John Stupart.com

An early post, but one in anticipation of a relatively sedate weekend ahead. My precious car is in the garage for it’s compulsory ‘Shakken’ inspection, and I may only get it back on Monday. Alas I yearn for the open road and the breakneck 60km/h speed limits Japanese highways afford!

One of the more interesting things I have noticed when sitting in the school’s staff room is just how downright focused the people around here are on food. Not necessarily the simple consumption thereof, but more on the planning, contemplation and borderline philosophical musings on the different qualities of the forthcoming meal. Organising lunch for the school’s festival, for example, sees the distribution of a brown envelope for each teacher’s money, together with a full A4 page listing the many things one can choose to eat. From scrambled egg and pork sandwiches (I’ll pass thanks), buttercream puffballs and the like to the more noramlised fare of bento lunch box sets, ice cream and various noodle dishes. Upon selection and insertion of payment, the envelopes are gathered by the school’s bureaucrat guy, who then proceeds to inspect said collection of lunch preferences and discuss just what each person is eating with the vice principal. I may not understand Japanese, but when my name crops up combined with ‘bento’, followed on by much emphatic nodding and murmurs of approval, I realize I have chosen correctly in my culinary destiny. I wonder what their reaction would have been if I’d chosen the sandwiches…

But it doesn’t end there. Where one must have the food delivered, and at what time are all valid and integral questions in the process. I would honest not be surprised if the most efficient route for the delivery of said food was a check mark on the list of things to do to ensure maximum mastacatory pleasure. Phone calls to the caterers, complete with minor addendums and additions to the menu are constantly checked off to boot. No wonder Japan has such wonderful food. There’s just so much effort invested into the experience. Somehow ordering the refried remains of some long-forgotten cage-bred chicken at KFC will just not really compare anymore…

I could be mistaken for thinking this was restricted to my little portion of Hokkaido, but a quick five minute channel surf will show that food, and the enjoyment thereof, is as much a part of Japanese society as nuclear bombs and anime.

Then, there are the school plays. The little drama skits each class prepares for the school festival. Perhaps a humourous ditty about their teachers, or a remake of Hamlet? Certainly not. I was greeted early on this week by a giant sack full of what appeared to be automatic assault rifles, complete with attached optics and extended magazines. Even a sawn-off shotgun is sitting in the corner as I write this…

They’re toys, of course, but the play the second graders have chosen is a remake of some part of WW2. I noticed a dvd of the battle for Iwo Jima, and I thank my stars I’m not American. Explaining all that would have been… interesting. The first graders have a sack full of toy Katanas, and the one student even brought his own dulled practice sword which he seems quite confident with. Bear in mind that this lad is twelve years old. For a country whose formal military exists only as a domestic ‘self-defence’ force, the world’s most passive nation has a truly interesting take on theatre.

In all it should make for a grand festival. Stay tuned for pictures.

In other news, no more snow has fallen, but the temperature still remained at a firm level of bloody cold, so I can hope that the countryside will soon be all fluffy white!

Also, there is now a brand new South African consulate in Sapporo. Should SA finally stop the act and announce their true aggression towards Japan, I should be able to be evacuated most quickly. Also, it’s great for lost passports and things to boot, but I think the former is far more likely!

The first graders just came into the office and requisitioned the armoury of Katanas, giant grins all around. Only in Japan methinks!

Another week gone by and the most remarkable thing to report is… SNOW!!!

It’s not much, but considering that it’s still Autumn, it’s a pretty good indication of things to come! At the moment I’m still in absolute delerium over seeing real snowfall for the first time. In Jo’burg the paltry once-a-year frostings is a pleasant sideshow, but this is fluffy white snow! Also, my gas heater in my apartment works like a charm, so I can limit my exposure to the elements to a purely leisure-oriented basis.

Needless to say, it’s pretty freakin’ cold now. Playing soccer with the kids after school was a bit of a shock, when my fingers started losing their feeling. Thankfully the team’s goalkeeper couldn’t keep HIS gloves on with his soccer ones equipped, which I swiftly offered to ‘hold’ his pair for him. I have since purchased said garment in Wakkanai.

Another great new sight for my little South African eyes is the stark colours of Autumn. In most of SA, Autumn is a mottled collection of dry bush veld, brush fires and utter lack of moisture. In Hokkaido, the forests virtually explode with browns, reds, yellows and shades in between. Winter in Johannesburg has a certain harsh feel to it, which is endearing in its part, and Japan compares in kind. It’s great to see the colours, and I’m sure they won’t last too long given the current weather, but it still makes for a picturesque drive through the hills.

And that pretty much is that! Aside from the sad sad news that Al Gore has won the Nobel Peace Prize (I guess he had to win something eventually!), little has rocked the Stupart boat this week. I did make it into the town newspaper again for the speech competition two of the school’s students entered in, but considering the rather ‘limited’ reader-base, I could emit a noticeably large fart in the middle of town and make the news!

That has been the dominant theme of the week for me. It seems as I ask more and more things in my halting and stunted pidgin Japanese strangers become more and more curious. Being this close to Wakkanai and all, they’re firstly amazed that I’m not Russian, and then even more surprised when they find out I’m not American either. Of course, being a functional illiterate in Japanmeans I can’t really say much more about my South African-ness in the language, but that doesn’t seem to really matter much. They’re generally just amazed that someone from so very far away is here in the middle of nowhere, eating their ramen and swigging their sake, as it were.

Saturday saw myself and Heather trolling the mean streets of little Russia again, with me looking for a haircut. She knew a barber in town who could speak a bit of Engrish, which meant I might not wind up with a Mohawk (I didn’t.) Turns out, after trading information on my nationality, that my new favourite barber (the Palestinian in Melville can’t touch this guy!) knows quite a few high-ranking officers in the Japanese Navy. Me being the military-phile that I am meant that I now have his phone number and his mine in anticipation of the next battleship or destroyer that might come into port. It’s all about the networking ek se!

We also visited a large park/playground, where I was graced with my first ever sighting of a chipmunk. A real, live chipmunk… I was suitably impressed at this momentous mammal-related memory, and I’m sure my readers are too! A chipmunk people! Screw the big five, it’s a chipmunk! The park afforded some beautiful views of the neighbouring lake, as well as the local fauna. In winter there are a few slides and slopes and whatnot, which would probably make for some good sledding I’d imagine. Needless to say a winter visit is required to get the full park-like experience. 

The Wakkanai Park – and what you cannot do in it…

The Chipmunk! Doing its thing…

Mr Chipmunk Posing

Awesome Spider. Heather wouldn’t let me feed the smaller spider we found as an offering to his awesomness.

Sunday saw me playing this bastardized elephant-man version of golf native to Hokkaido. Called ‘Park Golf’, it’s an odd mixture of ‘Mashie’ 3 par holes, putt-putt and croquet. If one could imagine putt-putt with everything twice as big, that would be park golf in a nutshell. I played with the Hama-Tonbetsu high school ALT Chris (a towering American guy who can reduce small Japanese kids to tears with just his ear piercings) and his vice-principal. He was also quite interested in me being South African and all, and was quite pleased that there were so many (clearly superior?) Toyota’s, Mazda’s and Nissan-built cars in SA. Needless to say, trying to explain that this is largely due to American sanctions against us during apartheid was both impossible with my language inability, nor conducive to good internationalization! Park golf is a lazy two or three hours in the sun and pine forests of the countryside, and is quite easy to get the hang of. Definitely something to try at least once in your life just so you can say you have!

Monday saw my return to Wakkanai on a rather blustery, rainy day. The was definitely NOT calm and the sea gulls were struggling to simply stay in the air, let alone catch anything to eat. We wound up in what is probably the town’s only Udon shop for lunch, and it’s fast becoming one of my favourite eateries in Japan! Udon is basically a thick white wheat-based noodle served in a hot soup of your choice. Sprinkle some spicy flakes of unknown origin and it’s a great meal. The stuff isn’t very popular outside of southern Japan for some reason, but I think I love it more than Sushi these days. Regardless, once I leave Japan, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at seafood the same way ever again, much less spaghetti or any other Mimmo’s pasta!

In all a rather sedentary weekend, but an enjoyable one nonetheless. My new quest for the week is to book a room/booth at a local restaurant so I can watch SA thrash the Argies in the World Cup semi-finals. Here’s to hoping!