Available at my local Sekichu.

Before I complain too much about school lunch in Japan, let me say that it is at least far more sophisticated and nutritious than school lunch in the USA. Of course, this isn’t really saying much. I’m pretty sure that school lunches are part of the child obesity problem in America. Canned peaches, canned green beans, and lumpy boiled hot dogs. It’s all sugar, salt, and grease.

But now that I’ve added that obligatory stipulation, let the whining begin. I’m a pescatarian. That means I’m vegetarian except that I eat fish. I used to be a strict vegetarian but I started eating fish so that I could attend the occasional social function where food was served in Japan. Even if I thought I weren’t eating chunks of fish, I would probably be eating something fish based.

A nice thing about being mostly vegetarian is that it gives me an excuse to pack my own lunches and pass up school lunch. Even so, my Japanese colleagues at my junior high school (especially that sweet, awkward school secretary) are always trying to be generous and feed me portions of the school lunch that they think don’t have meat in them. I don’t mind the droopy salads or the canned (or sometimes fresh!) fruit so much. But they’re also trying to feed me the soups and noodles with tiny bits of meat, and really horrible dried out fish. I thought I had seen and smelled it all until today when I encountered the vilest of the vile.

As I sat down where I usually sit, at the end of the table next to the sweet, awkward school secretary, I looked down into the bowl at the middle of the table. To my horror, it was filled with fish. Whole fish. Scales, tails, wide eyes, gaping mouths, everything. Fried until the bones get soft and the flesh gets fibrous. My colleagues tend to interpret eye contact or glances at what people are eating as a desire for more food, so I determinedly stared down at my own packed lunch of cold pasta. But the sweet, awkward lady urged me to get some fish anyway. I could just imagine my teeth pushing through the brains, bones, and guts and felt my throat spasm. Ok. I can probably get this over in two bites. Better start with the most repulsive part, the face. Bite. Chew, chew, swallow! No tongue contact!

I made the mistake of looking into my half fish. Apparently it was a female fish filled with tiny yellow eggs. Oh no. Bite, chew, chew… gu… gu… chewchewchewchew… gu.. gulp! The eggs were dry and gummy, sticking to all parts of my mouth including my poor defenseless tongue. The eggs wouldn’t go down without a fight. They had never made it to life, and dammit, they were going to take me down with them.

The only good thing is that they give me a carton of milk, which I can use to flush whatever nauseating bit of flesh they try to make me eat.

My favorite Japanese TV show comes on channel 8 at 9pm on Tuesdays.

Hanazakari no Kimitachi e

There’s this chick who falls in love with a boy dresses up like a boy to go to his school. Recently a really bitchy girl just found her passport and is determined to ruin her life. And I thought this sort of plot only happened in anime.
The best thing about it, is it’s filled with beautiful, beautiful men.

And Ai does the ending theme song!

Uh oh. Maybe that was the last episode.

I only had to teach three classes at my Thursday elementary school so I had a lot of free time. I spent one period amusing second graders by speaking very basic phrases in Japanese (Whoa! She’s mastered the simplicity of “I am.” and “You are.” LOLZ!) and eating gerbil food*. I’m a sucker for cheap thrills.

After school, I found a group of kids talking around the bathrooms. “Why are you all hanging out around the toilet?” The most outgoing of the boys came over to me. I don’t think he understood most of what I said, but he certainly understood “toilet.” He squatted down like he was laying an egg (or hunching over a squat toilet) and made grunting noises. Then he made a motion under himself to mime something being expelled from his bottom.

I followed that group around for a while. A few of the boys made a girl cry and she ran off. They peer pressured each other into apologizing to her and making her laugh. Wow. One day these kids will be unhappy, overworked, suppressed adults, but right now, they’ve got a lot of class.

Thursday night was the typhoon. It was a lot of hysteria in a landlocked area over some rain and wind. Minor train lines were stopped. Private schools canceled class the following day. Classes in Maebashi were delayed three hours on Friday morning, but I still had to go in on time.

The typhoon was bad enough that I wouldn’t have wanted to out walking in it. And I probably would have fallen over on a bike from the wind. But one of the biggest news stories of destruction and injury was that some old person had slipped and broken his/her hip.

My friend is a badass. He donned a swimsuit, put his cell phone and wallet in a ziplock bag and went out drinking until 2am.

*ok So the gerbil food was only raw sunflower seeds, but when I popped one of those into my mouth all the kids were totally freaked out. One of the boys eagerly handed me a second bag of gerbil food and helpfully held out a few green and brown pellets in his hand.

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Right now I’m obsessed with “Hybrid Rainbow” by The Pillows.

The music video isn’t anything special, but check out that gorgeous song.

This girl is actually terrified and everyone is just laughing.

I came back from my third period class with the sanensei and found myself seated next to fish.

Did I take a wrong turn past the window, somehow go down the stairs and walk a few miles to the nearest supermarket? No, rather, the market had made its way to the teachers’ room. On the floor to the right of my desk were rows of fish shrink-wrapped in plastic and lying in gray plastic boxes. And in true Japanese fashion, the fish were complete with eyes and tails. It wasn’t just fish. There was some squid, and some nori, and some pinkish-yellowish stuff that might be kimchi. Some rounder stuff that might have been mushrooms in a sauce. There was a man standing next to the groceries, he had a table upon which he offered samples of squid and green gummy-looking seaweed on toothpicks.

According to the English teacher to my left, this man comes in a few times a year to sell fish to the teachers. It is not uncommon for businesses to solicit teachers while they are working. We often have men and women dressed in suits approach us at our desks and hand us promotional fliers and catalogs. The first time it happened, I wanted to jump up and shout, “What the fuck are you doing? This is a school! Do you have permission to be here? Get the fuck out of here! I’m working!” But all the other teachers accepted the handouts with a casual “Ah… domo.” So I settled down and tried not to glare at them when they came to my desk. Actually, most of them skip over my desk. I don’t know if it’s because they don’t want to bother with the gaijin or they can sense my anxious hostility.

The entire room has a bit of a fishy smell now.