So You're Coming to Japan...

I'm prefacing this by acknowledging the mucus content of my sinuses is screwing with my intellectual capabilities.

But my feelings keep getting hurt for no real reason and I'm going to put a stop to this.

So let's assume you're seeing the post as a response to the following situation:
"Oh  my god. I'm coming to Japan at some unknown point in the future and know nothing of where/when/how to go/do anything, HALP!"

This has come up too many times with friends and acquaintances and people I don't even know who somehow get referred to me for this solution. Being me, I then put hours into trying to help these people plan their adventure, providing lots of details and recommendations, offering frequently to personally guide people around Tohoku completely for free.

And then the same damn thing happens every time. They think about it and make the same damn decision that everyone else does. They see Tokyo, Kyoto, maybe Osaka, occassionally Nagoya. They will go and see the same things everyone else goes and sees and since no one goes to Tohoku, no one ever will.

Then I get to find out this information months later, if ever, and I always feel slightly trampled. I know they weren't solid plans, but I keep fucking offering my heart and soul to people who really just want to have the DisneyLand-Japan experience. Not Tokyo Disney, which is an actual theme park, but the theme-park style tourist experiences that EVERY TOURIST seems to have, because having your own authentic experience in this "exotic" country is verboten. Your experiences are only worthwhile if they are exactly the same as the ones everyone else has.

You went to Japan, huh? Did you see Sky Tree? Tokyo Tower? This one thing I saw in Tokyo? Did you go only to the places that I also went? Awesome.

And there are tons of people out there willing to provide their experiences that corroborate this trend. A friend (who did actually come up here for a couple of days in addition to seeing Tokyo and other places) posted on facebook that she was headed this way and several of her friends had places to recommend....all in Tokyo. "Oh, I've been there-- all the way from Akihabara to Asakusa..."

And I'm out here thinking, "Yeah, that's ALL JUST in Tokyo. Hmm. Kinda like there's not a country out here...Guess I don't live in Japan after all...Since I don't live in Tokyo..."

So, if you're asking me for advice, here's my advice. 

1.   Get a Japan Rail Pass (you have to arrange it and pay for it before you get here, but it's totally worth it for the days when you're travelling a lot)

2. Check Trip Advisor, Japan guide, or just freaking google whatever cities you are actually interested in. You could even check City-Cost, where I sometimes blog about Tohoku, for information from other foreign residence and reviews of places nearby.

3. If you actually really want to come to Tohoku and have worked that into your finalized plans, hit me up. I'm still happy to show people around and be a free guide, but only when that's not getting my hopes up before someone says, "Oh, well we decided we'd just go wherever everyone goes after all. Screw Sendai."


So good luck guys, and enjoy your vacation wherever it takes you, but leave me out of it unless you actually give a crap about seeing me or Tohoku.

Thanks.

Happy Hina Matsuri Day!

So it is girls' day here in Japan and we had lunch with my in-laws to celebrate. They wanted to set up the dolls at our house but we didn't ever have time (or space) so they set up the top tier (emperor and empress only, plus flowers and lanterns) at their home atop the piano.

What we didn't count on was Grandpa Nakamura, who we love very much, being there in the house as well. Of course no one minds spending time with Grandpa Nakamura-- my mother-in-law's father-- as he's always happy to greet everyone with a warm smile and even uses a few words of English now and again. This time, we found him sitting at the dining table, shying away from our glances and speaking so softly as to barely be heard. He tried to be polite, but was a little scared and a little shy.

I've always liked Grandpa Nakamura partially because he is where my husband gets the ability to smile with his whole face (an uncommon trait in this country) and because he tends to speak plainly, but with a warm tone, so I can usually get the gist of what he's saying.

Grandpa celebrated his 90th birthday a few weeks ago and we all went out and had a great dinner where Julia actually ate something and only spent half of the evening rolling on the floor. That's an improvement, sadly enough.

Well, today we found out that Grandpa has been having memory issues, and is now living with his daughter and her husband so they can help take care of him.

My mother-in-law whispered the new sad stories of his current progress to my husband while we waited to wash our hands at the sink by the shower room before eating. I caught 50%, I'd like to say, but not a useful 50. Tomo had to clarify.
Then he tried to walk away.

I know they're good  at the whole face-hiding thing and I am bad at that, even for an American. There are people I know from my home country (hell, from my hometown) who can lie to your face and make you believe it while they hold every emotion back, showing you only an almost Vulcan face of emotionlessness.

And I can't do that. At all. I started crying and made him come back and hold me. I thought I would get it together after that but couldn't make it work for a few minutes.

On the upside, I could let the tears roll silently, which I couldn't do 10 years ago. I couldn't stop, though. And Tomo and his mom were perfectly together, and I admire their strength so much. 5 years ago, I would have felt stupid and angry at myself for not being able to hold it together better while my mother-in-law is oscillating between happy and normal on the outside.

I guess I don't really have an outside. I have me. This molten core of burbling emotion, that's me.

On the upside, my husband and in-laws don't have to worry about who I am inside. They see me. They can't not. I'm right there, heart exposed, every second of every day.
Like an idiot.
An almost brave but also terrified idiot.

I did finally stop the tears from falling. It kind of helped that my father in law also had to wipe his face and blow his nose after I came out and couldn't stop wiping the tears from my face.

After a few minutes, Tomo and his parents began talking about silly things that were happening and Julia was wandering around talking to everyone. Grandpa Nakamura laughed, and for a few minutes he really was his old self again.

This is the beginning of a long and very depressing road.
But at least we're on it together.

For the Love of Engrish...

So I recently got into a debate on Facebook....I never really get into debates on facebook. Do you? It's mostly one side saying what they thing, another side not listening but disagreeing on principle, the first side following the same method and so on. Very little listening or learning, which is why I usually choose not to engage.

Then someone called me a bigot.

Well it didn't start that way, did it? Let me back up.

I run an account on Patreon (like kickstarter but ongoing for artist support) that is called Weird Box of Japan and specializes in Engrish goods as well as other weird semi-uniquely Japanese things. People give me money, I send them a monthly box of weirdness that usually makes people happy. One of my patrons posted on one of the Amanda Palmer facebook fan groups about the contents of her recent package, which met mostly with responses like "What is that?" and "Why haven't I heard of this?"
The one vocal Chinese member of the group (ethnically and globally. Like she really lives in China and is Chinese. She is the only one who meets that criteria and regularly posts anything.) even mentioned that she could read the label and knew what the mystery item was but wouldn't tell anyone.

But there was also a negative response that got a couple of likes, which was something along the lines of "I don't see how Engrish is anything but bigotry."
And I wasn't the only one to be taken aback by the offended tone, especially when we're having fun at our own expense.
There were a few comments present when I checked this out (at 5:30 AM after a road trip) which basically when along the lines of "What?" and "Let Jessica explain. She probably knows."

So I explained, via an essay written on my phone using my thumbs while I lay in bed next to my slumbering family. I mentioned that I thought I knew where the girl was coming from and if anyone were using the term against people I would agree that it is racist and awful, but we are only using it to describe commercially produced products coming out of companies that didn't bother to have their copy checked by a native speaker. We're laughing at companies that either believe that whatever they put on a shirt/cup/whatever will do since it has those western letters or that it will sell better for its flaws.
I went on to explain that my Japanese husband thinks Engrish is the appropriate term and is hysterical.

The girl responded in one sentence paragraphs racked with errant commas that the word Engrish is racist because it mocks phonemes present in several Asian languages and I should use "comical translation error" or something similar instead. She then compared me to a schoolyard bully and insisted that the companies producing these things are victims of my racist labeling practices.


Here's the thing. I have said many stupid things in my life, from when I once told the hispanic boy I had a crush on in 3rd grade to "speak American" (because I was embarrassed to not know Spanish) to when I kept insisted on calling America "my country" when having dinner with several international  folks in Minneapolis last December, despite the fact that one of them was born in the states. I didn't mean any harm and still think these were stupid things to say.

Calling these products Engrish is not racist, because people of any race could be making these mistakes and anyone can laugh at them. I am not condoning telling people they "speak engrish" because Engrish is not a spoken thing. Spoken language is different and more difficult. Even having someone read over everything you plan to say is not a full-proof way to avoid errors. Written things,  especially words and phrases that wind up on products, are different in that there is room for editing. Someone can check your work and make sure it goes out right most of the time.

That's why it's funny and not mean. That's why we can call it Engrish.

The fight with the girl went on a few more volleys, with me dissecting her one analogy and her confessing it wasn't even an analogy but a reflection of something she once saw in her job. She's calling me a bully because she has seen bullying once.

Then she called me a biggot, though "not in a character defining sort of way." which was really the icing on the cake.

I did respond by pointing out some errors and trying to add guidance and positive feedback to the mix. She acted like I farted in her face.

The saddest thing is that I have been there, trying to relate the vast realm of human experience to whatever I knew at 16 or 18 or 22 and being offended on behalf of races and cultures I don't belong to for imagined injustices as much as real ones.

But I've grown up since then.

I used to think no one should use the n word. Then we wouldn't have to keep reminding non-black people to avoid it. It took some time and growth for me to understand that a maligned group has the right to reclaim words used against them if they so choose, and that choice doesn't even go for every member of that group. Bottom line, white girl from suburbia doesn't get to be offended on behalf of anyone unless there's actually someone saying "I am offended by this."

This is also why it is good to have friends of many cultures and races. You can ask, "Is this offensive?" and they can tell you.

So that's what I did. In a comment anyone could see, I asked the only vocal Asian in the group, and she said that the way the term was being used was not offensive at all. If it were being used against the way an actual person was speaking, then it would be. I agreed.

I then wrote my last paragraph to the offended girl and hid the post. Then I laughed. And laughed. And had a beer. And told my friends. And told my grandmother.
And laughed.

And I am still laughing.


But there were some interesting thoughts in this whole affair for me. The first was the realization that the nut jobs are not all on the right wing. Sorry conservative friends, I've heard enough hollering for crazy crap from my youth in Texas, and I've seen scores of people who can only believe in a politicians the way they believe in Jesus which is so wrong on so many levels, but that is people. I never knew we had (just as many perhaps) people plugging their ears to discourse and screaming offense about things that the potentially maligned group has judged as OK.

The next interesting thought was the debate in communication between being concise and being politically correct. I could write out a longer, potentially less offensive phrase (that I don't have the brain power to come up with now) every time I want to say "engrish" but definitely won't since I don't know anyone who is both Asian and offended by this term. The real heart of the debate lies more with words like Korean to describe the language of Korea. Koreans call the writing system hangul and take offense at calling it anything else, but if a friend of mine shows me a picture of some Asian writing they found and says, "Hey, what's this say?" the best answer is "I can;t read it. That's Korean."
Otherwise I have to have a whole conversation about hangul every single time I get asked about Asian writing, which isn't that often but still would be a waste of my time. We should all call it hangul and one day we will all know this, but for now, it saves me time and patience to use the less delicate term.

The last interesting thing...has been forgotten unfortunately. Such is life when this was what I did with the break I took when cleaning for several hours straight made me woozy.

Onward to other things!

Dr Seuss and Politics Part 1: Mayzie the Lazy Welfare Queen?

I've got this beautiful 3 year old daughter who is in love with Dr. Seuss. Her favorite character is Horton, which makes me very happy. Mind you, I had never read a Horton book before 2016 but now I can quote all of his who-hearing and egg-hatching adventures almost word-for-word.

And as we were reading through the aviary based tome, I came across an interesting thought.

And it is, weirdly, about my grandmother.

My paternal grandmother, like most of her 6 kids, is conservative. My dad alone seems to be the liberal mountain man of the group, which probably doesn't make sense to most people, but I'm not trying to tell our family history here. Suffice it to say I was raised by 2 liberals in conservative state (that used to be blue) only to be confronted with a family from up north living essentially the opposite existence.

When discussing the then-upcoming 2016 presidential election, my grandmother made use of terms more common among the right to far-right, like "welfare queen", which was something I'd only heard of briefly (probably because I avoid media from a perspective I can't fully understand) and had trouble wrapping my head around.

The fact is that the cost of living is higher today than it was twenty years ago in the US, and the pay at minimum wage jobs has not increased to match this. The assumption I am prone to make is that the same people who hired my Caucasian grandmother (about sixty years ago)when she was a teenager with several mouths to feed would be less likely to hire a woman of a different skin color to do the same job then or now, but even if they did, the money made wouldn't go nearly as far.
So this image of some destitute whore popping out babies so she can stay home living on barely-enough-to-eat is something I can't really imagine. Maybe that's me not being imaginative enough, but we lived in the ghetto (ghetto adjacent, really) and even if it was only for a few years, I don't remember anyone being excited to be on food stamps or anyone saying their parents refused to work so they could live off of the government instead.
Then again, I was 6. People don't tell 6-year-old children stories like that. Not when everyone's poor.

So I was reading my kid the story, and that lazy bird begs a passing elephant to sit on her egg so that she can take a break, only to have that break take most of the rest of the book because she would rather be relaxing in Palm Springs than doing her job as a mom. Instead, Horton (who is obviously a Hufflepuff) sits on the egg and keeps it safe and warm for 51 weeks through many hardships including treacherous weather, public mockery, hunters with guns, and becoming a side-show attraction.

And I think that lazy bird very much fits the idea of the "welfare queen" in that she does not take responsibility for her actions or job and wants only to relax at the expense of others.

I find that a more honest portrayal of the current head of the government than I do of an impoverished person. Poor people have problems, some self-made and many thrust upon them, but the vast majority, it seems to me at least, are more screwed over than lazy.

I know I'm lucky and privileged. Neither of my parents were ever in jail or deported. My dad's job paid for the necessities plus plenty of perks in addition to supplying us with medical insurance for our young lives. My mom is hard-working, still, trying to make things function when they otherwise would not. We didn't grow up in a mansion, but we always had food and water and electricity. There was no question of us going to school and getting jobs. We had examples of people who made stuff work. We were told that we were smart and capable and raised in a supportive household.

I've come to realize, the more people I meet in the world, that not everyone had that. There were difficulties for us, too, of course, but there's a lot worse off you can be (and survive better and more capable for it) than we ever were.

So, while I now can almost understand the idea behind the "welfare queen" characterization, I still believe it is unlikely to hold much truth. That said, I'm not a social worker nor a government employee in charge of investigating such things. Just a mom with a heart and a brain.
And just enough experience and empathy to deduce this.

But hey, it's just my two cents.

All the Ramblings in my Head...

I've been quiet for the past few weeks and for reasons anyone who knows me won't find terribly puzzling.

There's the harsh reality that is Japanese winter-- with humidity that guarantees any uncomfortable temperature sinks into your bones in addition to the perpetual feeling that your socks are soaking wet. At least that's what I get.

Then there's the reality of the American presidency, which better journalists have explained and re-explained the problems with. There are too many. Books will be written about this, but probably not by me.

Also, I'm lonely. I have friends who I see online and others who I see in person and my entire sense of worth is not derived from someone else making time for me, but a couple of individuals have moved from being central figures in my weekly schedule to occasional drop-ins if by some miracle the timing should suit them. This is not wrong-- everyone is doing what they should be doing-- but it hurts to feel cold and alone.

Except I never am alone. The three-year-old Julia is always with me, and I try my best to spend a few hours a day focusing on how great it is to have this time with her and getting her to maintain interest in subjects for us to study...and then I need alone time I don't get or an adult conversation I might get the chance to have in a couple of days if I'm lucky and it's just all a bit tricky.

But that's my normal mental state.

On the up side, we've made it past the halfway point of winter and I rejoice in every extra minute of daylight I can find. Sunset in my part of Japan in winter is around 4:30 PM at the worst part of winter. It sucks.

Friday we leave for the snow festival in Yamagata, after much debate and scheduling and re-planning and frustration. Yay! Except we've barely got money to cover what needs to be covered. I think we'll be alright, but it makes me nervous.

In addition, I've been needing to clean and organize the house in preparation for The Dolls, Julia's Hinamatsuri collection, which we should be setting up around the 8th. Having spent the last week oscillating between stressed and depressed, I have yet to find the time to make the cleaning happen. We'll see. After that trip. I did organize 1 thing today, and that was better than last week. 

If all else fails, my mother-in-law will set them up at her place, where there is more room and less likelihood of Julia smashing them to bits.

On the upside, I have made progress in a video game. Finding the reality (esp of the states) terrifying/horrifying, I have made it a point to spend a little more time in the world of fiction when I can. I don't really have the time to engross myself in a novel when Julia is around-- my attention must be divided and that does not make for fun reading-- but video games tend to be interactive enough. Pity I tend to play somewhat violent ones, but I'm trying to only play the less violent parts around my little sponge.
She started counting the dog-snake hybrids in Fallout: New Vegas. They are vicious and should be scary, but what does Julia say?
"One, two. Two bad doggies." To which I agree.

Yes, my child. Two bad doggies. But mommy has a plasma rifle, so don't worry. They'll be one big mass of green goo soon enough.

Also, I'm no longer afraid of those creatures in this game. Leveling up has advantages.

If I could just find a way to do that outside of virtual space....

Happy Super-Late New Year!

Hola!

Or not.

Happy New Year, people. 2017 is going to be...different.

So I am trying to stay positive. Do something. Save something. I won't be able to save the world. My vote didn't stop the rise of the pervert-elect. But I am going to try.
Because the alternative is death.
The only way is forward.

As I just wrote in a blog post that may-or-may-not be published in the next few days at city-cost, this is the worst winter on record for my mental health.

My previous tactics to stave off the winter funk have been rendered null and void.
It's too cold and icy to Poke-walk.
I can't use my small free weights while watching TV because my 3 year-old likes to take them and swing them around, in the direction of the laptop and TV. I am not going to wait for her to destroy things we can't afford to replace. Better to just be flabby and sad until she gets into kindergarten.

But I feel like I have made it around the bend. I was in a downward spiral there for a bit. Not like a lot of people's I guess. It's not drugs and self-abuse for me. It's lingering sadness and an unwillingness to shower. It's knowing the the polar ice-caps are gone and we're all doomed and the upcoming inauguration doesn't spell anything better for us. It's only going to get worse.

But now I see that that is precisely why we need to be even better. We need to try harder, and it is going to be hard, but when did that ever stop me from doing anything?
Frequently, but the things I really want to do? I do them anyway. I do them to my heart's content.

So let's do that. Stay positive. Get stuff done.

Now back to listening to the President's farewell speech.
I agreed with him sometimes, and disagreed as well, but he was a fine president, and this next sack of crap in a suit...well, it's not going to be nice.

I'm not going to ask my pervert-supporting family members about their thought until the pervert-elect screws some big stuff up. Let's talk next year, after some shit collapses.

Because it is going to. That's all I see.

But that is no reason not to stay as positive as we can. Do what we can for who we can.

Did you see the Penguins of Madagascar Movie? The one with Benedict Cumberbatch? You know the scene where North Wind is completely captured by Dave's army of octopi? Yeah. I am the seal, in the cage, screaming all the positive things he can think of because the alternative of accepting capture is too much for him.
That's me right now.
That's me since November 8th.


PS Who wants to Art-In for the inauguration? Like protest the upcoming insanity by staying home, buying nothing, and making art. I'll be working, then arting. That's my plan.

Mental Cleanse Rant; Car Wash Story

This post is really about getting things out of my head. Feel free to avoid it.


So, back around a month ago I posted about training my brain to say some basic phrases of explanation in Japanese so my in-laws can understand how I feel about the US election. My in-laws are so tactful that they never asked, but the confirmation that we have slightly different views may have created a little rift between my father-in-law and myself, but again, it's nothing anyone is bringing up with me.
This is not what is stuck in my brain, making me fight invisible forces with words I'll never say.

A well meaning acquaintance and Facebook friend, who admittedly knows little of my abilities either in Japanese or as a writer, suggested I used the basic comparative phrases to indicate that I preferred Clinton.
I could be bothered by someone trying to teach me phrasing I've been using for more than a decade, but what bugs me is that she really thinks it is that simple.

Even if no one gets this, just so it is out of my head, my problems with our rapist orange commander in chief-to-be are not as simple as "I prefer bitches in pantsuits."
It's just not.

We can dissect his track record with companies he's started and failed at, his expert-level cronyism, the corruption and scandals and abuses of power already exemplified in his business practices, but all of this has already been done by proper journalists.
Our orange Hitler (and I do not use the term lightly) who clamored to the top by spouting a logic of hate is not cool with me, not just because he speaks for almost nothing I believe in, but also because he just told the bigots of America that they are justified in wanting to be treated special for being white and wanting anyone unlike them in creed, color, etc to be treated like human garbage.

My hatred of trump is not based on a love of Clinton, who I don't have the most respect for after her treatment of Bernie Sanders. My hatred of trump is based on trump. What he says, what he does, what he represents....I want nothing to do with it.

So if you really think all Clinton supporters merely "prefer" their candidate, please read some of the legit publications explaining either the allegations against your orange superhero re: child rape, or accounts of all the businesses he's destroyed.
He may be rich, but not by his own doing. He's rich because he was born into it and unless you too were born a multi-millionaire, he's not going to represent you. He doesn't care about you.

But yeah, let's just wait 40 years for all the shit to hit the fan. The ice caps are just about gone. Pollution worse than ever, and trump will strive to push that beyond where it is now. If it gets to the point where there is a Flint, Michigan situation in every state, he will not be affected, because he only cares about his interests, which are making money for his buddies, not helping you.

The weird thing is when this comes from people in interracial marriages. I just wonder if they've considered the fact that their spouses and children would be the objects of increasingly awful treatment under this regime.

But I guess if you're a Caucasian American who never went to a school in the inner cities or had to be in a place in your own country where your skin color was rare and considered a threat, you don't have to think of these things. You don't have to consider them, but you should.
Racism in Japan is different. It's usually a little side-eye occasionally, small children staring sometimes. Every once in a while, an old man might say "humph" in your direction.
The US is different. Very different. We get violent, especially when we think we have the power to do whatever we want.

And he did denounce the acts of violence, which is something I said might gain some respect, but I don't know that it has. Each of his cabinet appointments is worse than the last.

I am glad I don't live there anymore.

Here's the thing I find a lot of people on the other side of this seem to be lacking: tolerance isn't about me being better treated than you are. Feminism, by the way, is also a course for equal treatment, not special privilege when applied correctly. Tolerance means if your kid is going to school with a mostly Jewish population, they don't have to participate in the Hanukkah play.  The same thing goes with any non-Christian kids at a mostly-Christian public school.
But if you watch the videos of white people melting down and screaming their candidate's name at people of other colors as if that were invoking the name of God against a demon, you should notice something important. These are not people who want to be treated equal to those around them. These are people asking for special treatment (i.e. cutting to the front of the Starbucks line) over all others. Why? Are they royalty? Nope. Special dignitaries? Nope. Olympic medalists? Nada.
Their major complaint seems to be rooted in the logic indicated by the statement, "...but I'm white."


Anyone who knew me well as a teen knows this story. There once was a car wash to raise money for a friend's sister's dance group or some such crap, and I went. most of the other car wash participants were tween-ish girls who stood around in bikinis mostly and boys with some Hispanic heritage and therefor an ability to tan. When one of the girls, the sister of my friend who happened to be half-Hispanic and tan-able, mentioned that she too was working hard, my brain constructed a great explanation of the fact that she would have a nice tan tomorrow, no pain or problems, where I already looked like a lobster and would be suffering from the effects of my lack of pigmentation for the better part of a week at best. What came out of my mouth?
"But I'm white."
Which sounded a lot more like I was trying to indicate a need for privilege over a need for better sunscreen, but my friends knew me well enough to catch my actual meaning.

So I have also said stupid shit that sounded racist. I've also said things that sounded transphobic. I've said lots of stupid things over the years but I'm not a celebrity and no one recorded most of these things, luckily enough for me.

But that doesn't excuse the insanely inflammatory shit spouted by the orange one over the course of his campaign and even after. He's not of or for the people. He is for himself, and it's sad that that is not a problem in the eyes of most people.