GISHWHES Round Up

GISHWHES was last week and it was awesome. A few things made this year significantly better than last year:

1. Our team was made up of friends or friends of friends, the last of whom was part of the team a month before the big event. Last year, I wasn't even registered until a few days before registration closed and our team was mostly fragments of other teams with just a couple of individual players.

2. Group GISHing. It's hard to be the only one in your physical area who is also doing GISH or on your GISH team. A lot of the items are better if done by a group. Some are impossible to do solo. This year I was blessed to have a couple of ladies in my vicinity for the first half of GISH, which we knocked a lot of items out, giving me time to work out some other items and do some I had originally considered impossible. Most of these could not have been done by myself. None of them could have been more fun.

3. Because our group was all well informed before the event started, we had prepared for certain snafus, such as one girl being unable to send any of her completed items in due to lack of internet after mid-week. We divided up what was left of hers and did our best. Some amazing stuff happened.

4. I pushed myself and did everything I could figure out how to do, and some that I didn't know how to do before last week.


Things I learned to be better about next year:

1. Include Julia more. She wants to be included. Once I got her into costume, she had a blast. More of this needs to happen for her.

2. Ensured internet access options for our members. I think this will be better resolved though because everyone involved will likely have been in their home-state for more than two weeks before GISHWHES (which was not the case this round)


All in all, it was a wonderful time. Lots of crazy antics were had. I have no idea what anyone else thinks, but I am thrilled with our outcomes.

To Be (Friends) or Not To Be...

Is it bad that I still don't play well with others? 

The most negative thing on my all-A report cards in elementary school was that. Does not play well with others. And I blamed myself. I didn't fit in, and couldn't. When the other kids were playing, I was over-analyzing, thinking too hard about things later proved inconsequential. It later occurred to me that the other kids weren't trying to exclude me usually, and that my sad attempts to fake a normalcy I couldn't understand were off-putting to say the least. Sometime around puberty I gave up the charade and decided to just be me. That was the best possible answer and I try to stay true to it, but ...

Fast forward the better part of a couple of decades and I'm living in Japan, in a culture that I don't know how to get on in. Maybe missing out on those developmental years of friend-making popularity stuff took a toll.

But I do have friends. Not many that I keep up with constantly, but a bunch. I have some close friends in my town or in the vicinity (other foreigners, mostly), and a few I see weekly online to catch up. Others I hear from every few weeks or month or so. Some in Japan I only see once every few months, but when we hang out, we have a great time.

I am satisfied with my number of friends and generally with the amount of closeness to them.

But what of friendship with other moms, the way Japanese moms tend to do? Why not find some people with similarly aged kids and go have fun getting to know them? Great for my Japanese ability, great for my daughter, great for everyone!

Except I don't want to. I have no drive to do this, Is this horrible?

One of my best friends is also a mom, and her experience has helped me tremendously, so I am not knocking having mom friends, but I don't really care to make friends with people only because our kids are around the same age. That's not enough common ground and can breed scary levels of competition and gossip over meaningless crap.

Or maybe it's just the outsider in me refusing to attempt another team sport.

Recently, I made a new acquaintance, another foreign woman with a Japanese hubby living long term in the land of the rising sun. She introduced me to a facebook group for similar folks and that is so awesome that I invited all friends in similar situations to join it, just in case they need the help and friendship they may not have in their given area.

I realize the long-term Japan thing is a huge challenge, and without a network of friends and family, it is all the more difficult, so I implore any lonely foreigners out there to go out and make friends. Do what I can't. Don't let yourself down.

Meanwhile, I am going to try to raise my daughter and keep the friends I have, wherever they run off to.

That Whole Bakery Thing....

Recently, an Oregon couple running a bakery was ordered to pay $135,000 in damages to a homosexual couple they refused to bake a wedding cake for on the basis of their religious beliefs as Christians. The couple sites bible verses regarding participating in other people's sins and believe that homosexuality is a sin, therefor participating in a homosexual wedding by baking a cake is the same as being in a homosexual relationship and condoning all that goes with that.


Personal belief is all well and good, and in general I usually choose the path of putting my money where my mouth is, not giving commerce to people I feel treat me unfairly or make me uncomfortable. Maybe my stance as a liberal Texan has something to do with my lack of desire to legally challenge those who prefer not to serve me. But the laws in Texas are different from the laws in Oregon.


Oregon's non-discrimination law clarifies:

"Discrimination in Public Accommodation 
A place of public accommodation is defined in state law as any place that offers the public accommodations, advantages, facilities or privileges, whether in the nature of goods, services, lodging, amusements or otherwise. It is illegal to discriminate in places of public accommodation on the basis of race, sex (including pregnancy), sexual orientation, national origin, religion, marital status, physical or mental disability, or age (18 years of age and older). "

From Oregon's government website, available here.
The full legal definition of "Accomodation" is also available here and states very clearly (7E) that bakeries count.


Once again, personal beliefs are great, but should probably be kept personal, not in business. Anyone operating a business in any state should recognize the laws of that state and know what they can be held liable for. This includes business taxes, discrimination laws, and any other law with which they may conceivably find themselves conflicted.

In the baker's position, were I uncomfortable with making a "gay cake" I would gladly have lied, explaining a difficulty in scheduling or a problem with wedding cake making. I would have lied my butt off, stayed in business, and done my best not to give someone fodder for a discrimination lawsuit. But I am not a proud Christian.

I am also not someone who believes in the notion of a Christian Nation. The very idea negates one of the most beautiful things about the country. When the founding fathers elected to abandon the monarchy, the did not do so to set up a new system of religious rule. For this reason at least, the separation of church and state is sacred and beautiful. We should all be fair under the eyes of the law, so long as our actions do not infringe upon the rights of others.

According to the laws of the state of Oregon, a baker declining to bake a cake based on the sexual preference of the recipients of the cake is discrimination. That's the law. It would be the same if an innkeeper turned them out on the street upon learning of the couple's status. Or a lecture hall turning away someone of a different race, creed, or sexual orientation purely for that reason. This is discrimination as it is laid out in Oregon's legal code.

The homosexual couple went on to sue for emotional damages, as is their right and the reason for the financial aspect of this case. I can tell you first hand that not landing the cake-bakery of your dreams for your wedding can be disheartening. Being told by the bakers that the reason for this is the fact of your sexual preference is beyond disheartening, and definitely rage inducing to say the least. For people in a small town, this is a serious emotional pummeling. Knowing that the same bakery you've been going to for years, the same one that you just knew would be perfect, is run by people who believe in their heart of hearts that helping you on your special day in any way is a ticket to eternal damnation...yeah, that would hurt, especially in a place where bakeries are not a dime a dozen.

The town where this happened is a lot smaller than my hometown, so just finding another bakery wasn't as easy as it had been for me, when I planned my wedding from Japan. After our first bakery option fell through completely, I had only six weeks to find a new bakery and get a cake settled. Given a limited budget and specific desires, I could only find two bakeries servicing the area the wedding would be in that would also communicate with me via email. One of these listened to my desires, negotiated on the price and tasting times, and wound up being everything you could want from a bakery. The other ran me around, quoting prices and ideas for two weeks that were later revealed to be completely bogus. The only thing in my price range was a pre-made plastic cake with a small cut-able cake on top, which was the last thing I wanted.
Even in the seventeenth largest city in the US, getting a bakery for your wedding can be extremely challenging.

Now imagine if I had been marrying my Japanese fiance in the fifties. I would likely have received similar treatment to the gay couple. And if my spouse had been female instead of male? Who knows?

The bakers should have conducted their business in a place like Texas, where it is well known (though not well documented) that most businesses in general may reserve the right to deny service to anyone, depending on the ordinances in their city. Non-discrimination policies don't even exist in many urban areas. In fact, should word get around of their position as a Proud Homophobic Christian Bakery, in many circles, they would attract far more customers.

No, Postman: Adventure 2: Phone Tag With Well-Meaning Imbeciles

My husband came home last night and I told him of my adventures in hiding from the weird post office guy, at which point he immediately looked up the number for the Post Office Complaint line, which he called and was hung up on twice before looking instead for the English call-center line, which he got through on and handed his phone to me.

I explained the situation to a woman with a Japanese-Australian accent, who said she would call the post office and attempt to figure out why the guy had come to my house. She then called back twice for details. Then she called back to say that the post office would investigate and call her back the next day (today) at which point she would call me.

So today, I answered the phone when a strange Japanese number appeared on the screen and was greeted by a completely different woman at the Shiogama Post Office, not the help line. She gave me 7 digits of a phone number, saying it was the help line, before making some "biting the lip" sounds and asking to continue in Japanese, which I didn't understand most of anyway.

I tried to explain that I had already called the help line, yesterday, so I already had the number. I said this in both languages. She said another sentence of things I don't understand.

Because at this time I was balancing my toddler and feeling guilty for taking a call while video chatting with my grandmother, I cut it short at this point. I said, in Japanese. "I am sorry. I am busy. So very sorry." and hung up. I then was so frustrated that I turned off my phone for fear that she would then try to call back.

Is this some girlfriend to a sex offender, trying to make sure he doesn't get in trouble for following a foreigner home by making the process for inquiry so difficult so as to be unmanageable? More likely, this is a coworker of an incompetent jerk who didn't find it strange to follow a woman home, ring her bell incessantly, knock on her door, and not just leave a damned note in her post box.

Now, I am going to eat something. then I am going to call the English help line back and tell them what happened today as well as recount the events of July 1.

Then maybe they will call Shiogama's post office and get a more direct answer than this unending pile of BS.

Oh wait, there's someone at the door.

Update:  In the time it took me to get to the intercom, it stopped ringing.

Update 2:  I called the call center, explained my situation, and was promised a call back, which I got with the surprising news that Shiogama finally called them and let them know the source of all this craziness-- I had labelled one of the packages as containing a toy, and they needed to know if it contained a battery.

Seriously. All that stress for "batteries not included."

Definitely not using that post office again for a while.

Today's Adventure: No, Postman. I will not ring you up.

Sometimes I know what I'm doing here and I feel at peace. Sometimes I feel like I belong somewhere, usually in my home with a warm beverage on a drizzly, windy day like today.

Today was going to be a doozy anyway. A dear friend just finished up her brief visit with our family, heading out this morning. Also, tonight is one of the nights my husband is required to stay at work, which means I alone take care of the baby but I also only have to cook for myself and her.


In an attempt to feel useful, I dressed Julia up and we ran to the post office to send off a bunch of sock monkey hats. On the way, my toddler battled for control of the umbrella and stood in the largest puddle she could find before splashing all the mud on me. It's the first day we've had rain and the time to walk in it, so I couldn't be mad. Also, she got a chance to use the green wellies a student brought her from London over a year ago.

Not using air mail, the postage was reasonable, in fact a lot cheaper than I thought it would be. Then we put some money in the ATM, which I had to try twice in Japanese, challenging myself not to use the English instructions instead.

Then we came home, which was made harder by her decision on bolt out the door to our building as I was trying to shake the water off our collapsed umbrella. Luckily Hana, my best friend here, was walking down the street right at that moment and helped me wrangle Julia into the lobby.

Julia and I came upstairs, and all was well, until there was a ring at the buzzer. A young man from the post office asked if I was Tsuzuki by name, to which I agreed. Then he went into a rapid-fire native-level paragraph as to why he had come.

And I gave up. I seriously only understood my name and he appeared to have possibly been the guy who was at the counter that we went through, but somehow he didn't get my language level through our previous exchange.

I am overloaded. And I have no more to say. To him. To anyone. We're done with this.

However, the young man persisted. He buzzed up again five minutes later, then waited and buzzed up with one of my neighbors, an older lady who I like but can't understand more than one sentence out of five from. Then he came up and rang the doorbell twice.

I have yet to answer. I feel bad about wasting the man's time, but I also refuse to listen to more stuff I have no hope of understanding from someone who doesn't get that "intermediate ability" and "complete fluency" are not the same thing. It is shameful that fewer than three sentences can send me into this, and it isn't his fault that I am not better at this language. Nevertheless, I just can't open that door.

Hopefully, if something is wrong with a package, he'll leave it in my box downstairs and I'll try again later. If it's a refund or some other thing, he can also leave it there. I have no interest in continuing a conversation in which all I can recognize is my name and all I can say is "yes...."

Saying yes even when you don't understand is very normal in Japanese, but also very dangerous.

Now I am going to stay in here, absorbed by cowardice, and try to take care of my screaming toddler.

Perhaps with a hot beverage.

How Julia Met the Mayor and Other April Hijinks

April has been one amazing month, let me tell you.

First, there was a lot of rain, which I was none-too-thrilled about. The cherry blossoms were blooming and I made a point of going to see them with my toddler (who spent 5 minutes eating and 20 running around like crazy) at Shiogama Shrine on Monday, the 6th. After this, I kept on writing and preparing for the Steampunk Hanami event my friends and I had been planning for a bit. Finally, on the 19th, we got to go out, all in fancy dress, and fully enjoy ourselves. It was fantastic. The photos will be edited and put together in a story-book later.

The day previous had also been fantastic. After teaching and fixing rips in my couch with vinyl, glue, and suede, I received my daughter from my in-laws, brought her to another hanami with friends in Sendai, and hang out with them for Starbucks. At 7:15, we met one of our Shiogama friends at HonShiogama Station and went to a sweets-making event. It turned out to be an event aimed more at children than adults, but we still enjoyed making our tiny sweets and devouring them…and then the mayor of the city showed up. My friend greeted him well and told me who he was, as I of course don’t really know any Japanese politicians. Then my toddler ran around for a bit and the mayor caught her looking at some fairly expensive phone straps. I was warning her not to touch them when the man picked one up and said in Japanese that he would buy it for her.

I know in Japanese this is at least a 5 part conversation, as follows:

Mayor: “I will buy this for your daughter.”

Mother: “No, no. That’s not necessary. Please don’t.”

Mayor: “Nope. I’m going to do it.”

Mother: “Oh, okay. If you must. You’re too generous.”

Mayor: “Here you are.”

The only problem is I don’t know how to say almost any of this in keigo, the super-formal language form you should definitely use with the Mayor. So I sat there making sounds of protest with my mouth that were not words in any language. Then I attempted to stand and instead slammed into a supporting beam of the tea-house, shaking the room less than an earthquake but more than noticeably. All of this was ignored by all of the patrons as the Mayor returned with the $10 phone charm for the baby. I bowed and thanked him as profusely as I knew how.

And that’s how Julia not only met the mayor but also received a present from him.

March 2015! GISHWHES Announced! Awesome times begin!

March! Yay!

Soon-ish there will be cherry blossoms and temperatures that don't make me shudder! Woot woot!

In addition, the Hina Matsuri Doll collection my in-laws set up in my house (as is custom) is finally back in storage, meaning I can spend a little more of my time being a person and not a toddler chasing madwoman. Putting a very expensive set of dolls so close to tiny, prying, destructive hands is just such a bad idea.
But it's custom.
So it is.


In other awesome news, GISHWHES dates have been announced. This year, the registration is going to be open for 18 weeks instead of the measly 4 last year. This year is going to rock. Here's why:

1. I have been gathering teammates from the splendid people I already know, giving them the information they need to make an informed decision and know not only what they are getting into but what is expected from them.
2. My team is already starting to talk to each other. We have an actual team name! Last year, it was a last-ditch sort of affair and I named my tiny, 5 person team "42" because it was the shortest name I could think of and a good Douglas Adams reference. Partial teams gets joined together with "loves" between the team names. For instance, team "Pudding" and team "Wombats" would become Team PuddingLovesWombats. If you add more teams, you get longer things. Our team had four loves in it last year. I am aiming to not repeat this.
3. If everyone who I have in the facebook group joins, I will already have 2/3 of a team that I know and trust. That is just so cool.
4. Having all this time means tons of time to think, plot, save, and prepare. Many plans are already in place. Also, I've already made a Dinomite (the 2015 mascot-- half Dinosaur, half mite).

I also have a cunning plan. For each of these 18 weeks, I will do one GISH related activity in preparation. Last week, I created a replica of the mascot. This weekend, I have AMOK (Annual Melee of Kindness, a weekend long kind-a-thon from Random Acts) during which I will write postcards to anyone I can, shouting kindness across the seas, spreading it to the global community. 

Next week, I may film a series of weird stuffed-animal battles (including the Dinomite) as part of an English lesson with a very interesting 9 year old boy, soon-to-be 10.

And after that? Who knows!
Options I have come up with include:

• Making a Youtube video about GISHWHES
• Making more Dinomites for my teammates
• Making a new mascot costume for my daughter
• Finishing accessories to a steampunk ensemble for an upcoming Steampunk and Cherry Blossoms picnic (oh heck yeah!)

Any suggestions? Let me know!

For more information on GISHWHES, please visit this site or ask me.
For information on the Dinomite, watch this video: