tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-119850682011-07-29T10:58:32.343+09:00danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.comBlogger211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-64725572720534835582007-04-20T00:07:00.002+09:002009-09-25T11:17:19.996+09:00

Each year, us foreign English teachers have to write a short essay for the prefectural board of education (a prefecture is like a state). We are asked the same every time, write about "the Japanese experience." While no one is short of matieral, it is difficult to fit something worthwhile (and appropriate) in just a few paragraphs.None of us look forward to writing it, especially when we know

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-62101324018838467012007-03-31T15:59:00.000+09:002007-04-05T23:36:20.393+09:00

Last winter was freezing. The weather was windy, icy and it snowed every week. Without a car, a trip outside meant a long painful bike ride, or an even longer walk. And after being out in sub-zero conditions all day, I wanted to come home to a properly heated house.I didn't realize how difficult that would be in Japan. See, there's something not in the walls of apartments here: central

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1171352626803887312007-02-13T16:43:00.001+09:002007-02-13T21:48:09.678+09:00

Hi everyone. With Valentine's Day upon us, I wanted to host a small discussion on the subtle differences between the holiday in Japan and in the States. With me today I have:Jacey Rabeski, a self proclaimed "Japanese pop culture fiend"Mr. Takamiya, a local shopkeeperand Chris Wellings, who just recently arrived in Japan and is looking for work.Also with us are Yumi and Yuki, both currently in

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1163517506830198322006-11-15T00:01:00.000+09:002006-11-15T00:25:38.326+09:00

I remember as a kid, I swore I would never wear baggy jeans. Simply put; it looked stupid. Stupid that is, until I realized all my friends at school were wearing them. At a different stage in my life, I swore I would never listen to rap, because it “sucked.” Until one day I actually listened to it (country however, still sucks). I also swore I would never wear medium tee-shirts because,

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1146150572093959742006-04-28T00:00:00.000+09:002006-06-19T00:38:58.913+09:00

My town is fairly small, about three square miles in size. It’s also dismal, flat, and full run down homes and factories. And, unlike every other place in Japan, it’s not famous for anything. And ANYTHING can make a place famous. Like pickled fish, which my prefecture is famous for, or tanuki statues, which a nearby town is famous for.A tanuki has big balls, boobies, and brings good luck

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1138635137441170242006-02-04T00:18:00.000+09:002006-02-05T22:07:41.273+09:00

I think it’s high time I showed you my apartment. This is actually my attempt to get on MTV Cribs. After watching about two hundred or so episodes, I think I figured out how to get on the show! You either have be ridiculously rich, or a clueless bimbo! Let me tell you, I tried really hard. I hope this works.So, like, welcome to my house!

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1138634021366917462006-01-30T23:21:00.001+09:002009-09-25T09:12:42.239+09:00

It’s been about a month since, but the Christmas season in Japan is crazy. Well, a lot of things in Japan are crazy. Karaoke. Mini-skirts in winter. Engrish. Television. But none of these are Christmas.Christmas is plastered everywhere. In town, at the mall, by the station, in school, on TV, on the radio… it’s just like home. The colors are a little different; they favor white and blue

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1134922220524159682005-12-19T01:08:00.000+09:002005-12-19T01:11:50.590+09:00

I was teaching a class the other day when saw a second year kid running through the hallway. Close behind him was a teacher attempting to get back the classroom door sign he stole. The kid had enough time to open the window to the class I was in, put the sign inside the window, steal my classroom’s sign… and run off without being caught.As he ran off, I realized I haven’t given you an update on

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1131980685811930802005-11-14T23:28:00.000+09:002005-11-15T00:04:45.913+09:00

Four months ago, we arrived in Japan. We’ve settled in, made our friends, worked out our daily routines… things have begun to feel familiar. We’ve learned a lot about Japan by calling it "home." Visiting another country really is a great way to learn about your own...So off we were to Korea.A few of us made a four-day visit to Seoul, with zero expectations. We knew nothing about Korea, except

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1130972235114592912005-11-03T07:56:00.000+09:002005-11-03T08:05:28.000+09:00

October exists for one purpose only: Halloween. The Japanese haven’t figured this out yet. The Japanese October has a deceiving Halloween spirit in the air; stores sell stuff with jack-o-lanterns, witches, and ghosts on it, but come the day, they don’t actually DO anything.During the weeks leading up to Halloween, I had to fill in the gaps of their spotty knowledge:Kids get candy by going trick

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1130658784058010492005-10-30T16:48:00.000+09:002005-10-30T18:04:01.620+09:00

The love hotel sells a commodity we take for granted at home: privacy. It’s not the seedy no-tell motel near the shady part of town; the love hotel is a legitimate getaway for couples. It also makes a great place to crash late at night. That's what a bunch of us did a few weeks ago in Osaka.This kind of establishment caters to discretion; you never have to worry about seeing another person.

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1127820095636575132005-10-13T18:07:00.000+09:002005-10-14T16:18:09.633+09:00

There is something you have never seen before in America (or your respective countries, I’m sure), and that is Japanese variety TV. It’s pure lunacy. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, Exhibit A:"Oh my god, I just soiled my pants! No... wait... that was my dignity." Here we have two men screaming their brains out. Why? Because they are on a carnival ride hanging off the edge of a building.

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1128588174135411822005-10-06T17:32:00.000+09:002005-10-06T20:03:12.826+09:00

My elementary school lessons are the most normal. The kids sit relatively quietly and listen to me. They answer my questions. They carry my stuff from one classroom to the next. They’re great. They’re especially cute when they put their hand out for a shake during the introduction lessons, and subsequently less cute when I am reminded how dirty elementary school kids hands are.Whenever I go

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1127813597734822902005-09-27T18:10:00.000+09:002005-09-29T17:35:06.960+09:00

The last Saturday of summer vacation brought the school together for another shining example of bonding and community service. The mission: To clean the outside of the school. The recruits: teachers, students, and parents. Units were deployed to various areas around the school, thus beginning Operation: Ruin My Saturday Afternoon.The work at first wasn’t so toilsome. I was initially placed by

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1127809329530210972005-09-27T17:02:00.001+09:002009-09-25T09:28:20.823+09:00

Everyday at around three o’clock, the schools of Japan begin their self-cleaning routine. Homerooms divide themselves up and clean various aspects of the school- classrooms, hallways, stairs, etc. I’m somehow responsible for the second year English classroom. Each week, different students are assigned to the classroom in the hopes that they will sweep the floors, wipe the tables and erase the

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1127316267103719082005-09-22T00:20:00.000+09:002006-04-28T17:43:16.220+09:00

The junior high school I work at is ranked as one of the worst schools for student behavior in the prefecture. You know the Japanese model student? The one that sits quietly and listens? The one that studies into all hours of the night? The one with respect for their teachers? My school takes that model student and beats the crap out of it. Then spits on it, phones their mother to tell her

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1126710536579455542005-09-15T00:05:00.000+09:002005-09-15T17:24:32.306+09:00

Now that I have been teaching for a bit, I was thinking of giving the rundown on my school, the kids, and all that hoopla. However today’s lesson with the third years (9th graders) blew my mind. We read a short story in class narrated by a tree… a tree in Hiroshima. Please, take some time to read this:A Mother’s LullabyA big, old tree stands by a road near the city of Hiroshima. Though the

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1126184117571218952005-09-08T21:51:00.000+09:002005-09-15T17:27:28.546+09:00

I was standing there at the pastry shop buying lunch the other day. Looking at the dessert section I saw various appetizing things. I can read some Japanese, so I tried to read the names of the pastries I couldn’t figure out.Cho-ko… “Chocolate filled. Can’t go wrong with chocolate.”Ku-rii-mu… “Cream filled. Maybe.”An-something… “That's red bean. Mmm, not today.”Ka-re-Do-na-to “Karay Doughnut

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1125731725194476082005-09-03T16:14:00.000+09:002005-09-27T17:28:42.063+09:00

I was worried how my article in the town newsletter would look since the day I heard I would be featured. And here you can see why:I borrowed a dictionary from school and attempted to translate it:PLEASE WELCOME DANIEL!On July 25th, Hojitsu JHS met their new ALT from New York.Daniel-Sensei visited Japan for two weeks last summer. His impression of Toyosato, "The area is very beautiful and the

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1125576555536252762005-09-02T10:06:00.000+09:002005-09-15T17:29:12.930+09:00

Japanese schools do not have janitors. The job of cleaning is left up to the teachers and students… unless it's the summertime, then it's left up to the teachers. So, one day at 3 o’clock, one of my teachers told me to meet her on the third floor.The first thing we did was open all the windows on the floor. It's summer time, so naturally, the air is disgusting. With the windows open however,

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11985068.post-1125322416544070372005-08-30T11:11:00.000+09:002005-09-15T17:29:57.910+09:00

Anime is crap. You might disagree. You might have some anime series that you will defend to your grave. But whatever your thinking- it's crap. Accept this as fact and we can only go up from here.Not only is it crap, but the stuff they show us in America is the worst of the worst (or so I hope). Have you seen Sailor Moon? It’s about some schoolgirl and her friends, their talking cat mentor,

danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597013597859849101noreply@blogger.com5