What a great prank: Stopping Time

If you want to pull a cool prank, there's no better place than Grand Central Station. About 200 people were in on the prank that lasted exactly 5 minutes.

OK, maybe you could try London. . . where even more people took part. I suppose it will hit all the major cities of the world before long.

Wish I could have seen it in person!

In a rut and feeling bored

My life in Vegas is definitely in a rut. I go to work, come home and work on my lesson plans for several hours, read a few of my favorite blogs or latest news, fix dinner with J., watch a little TV, write some email, and go to bed. So, what's the big deal? What seems so different from my life in Tokyo where I did almost the same thing, with the exception of fixing dinner with J. and watching a little TV?

I've been mulling that over for quite a while now, and still don't know for sure what the difference is. All I seem to come up with are a couple of things. The first is that in Tokyo I taught many more lessons a day than I'm teaching now, and there was so much more interaction with students and other teachers. In our tiny teachers' room (about 4 feet by 12 feet and filled with lockers, bookcases, 2 miniature tables and stools, and 2 very small sofas) usually anywhere from 5 to 20 teachers were climbing over each other to get to their lockers, books, or fridge and catching up on the latest gossip or discussing politics, books, students, restaurants, travels, expiring visas, Japanese bureaucracy, and a million other subjects. It was amazing how much could be discussed during those meager 5-minute breaks. I miss all that chatter and laughter. 

No topic seemed taboo, which may or may not have been such a good thing. Nevertheless, with so many personalities, there was always something interesting going on and I usually went home chuckling to myself about something funny that had happened at work that day.

Not so much in Vegas. Even though we now have 5 teachers (all women), we have very little interaction. Usually the teachers just stay in their classrooms during their breaks or make a quick dash to another building to use the restroom (yeah, it's a bummer that we don't even have a restroom in our building) or have a smoke.

Another strange thing is that, while so many people come to Vegas because it's "such an exciting place," I find it all very boring. I mean, after you've hit the strip, done a little gambling, seen a few shows, the "real" life here is just about making it from one day to the next--putting up with the rude people, horrible traffic and even worse drivers.

Rant alert. This is just one of the many things I see almost every day: Picture 3 lanes of traffic in one direction, I'm driving in the far left lane, a school bus is in the right lane. The school bus puts on its flashing lights, extends its "stop" sign and stops. I stop in the far left lane (as is required by law) and suddenly this car in the middle lane blows past me--and the school bus--doing at least 50 mph! But wait, there's more! By the time I approach a very busy intersection up ahead, where the light has just changed to green, I see the same car that had just blown past me in the MIDDLE lane cut another car off at the intersection to pull a RIGHT TURN right in front of the car that was just starting to accelerate from the green light! Fortunately, the driver in the right lane hit his brakes in time to avoid hitting the car. This is the way people drive in Vegas! End of rant.

So, aside from trying to stay alive while driving, another realization about the rut of living here is that this city sucks. There are no interesting or quaint streets to meander through on foot. There are no tiny bakeries where you can catch a whiff of something wonderful baking, no chocolate shops, no corner flower vendors, no cute, hole-in-the-wall places to explore, no sidewalk cafes, no open-air markets filled with today's fresh produce, no independent bookstores to wander through, no cute park benches from which to people watch while eating a freshly-baked croissant and sipping coffee, no street vendors selling quick and inexpensive yet delicious and nutritious meals for office workers. Everything here requires a car (which my international students complain about) and miles of driving down seven-lane-wide boulevards to go to large chain-stores located in even larger strip malls that all look alike and include at least one fast-food franchise. This is the heartless, soulless look of modern America in a so-called modern city. What an empty, empty place. 

I think living in such a place is an assault on the senses and can easily make one jaded and bitter. I already see it happening to me and I don't like it. In just a few short months, work has become drudgery, and I think it's because there aren't the things here that can smooth the rough edges off life, like those things I mentioned above. It's those little, seemingly meaningless, things that soothe and enrich our lives.

Even though I have the wonderful and often hysterically funny companionship of J&T, two adorable cats to get my critter-fix, a lovely home in which to live, my own flat-screen TV (a very generous Christmas gift from J&T), I feel a longing for a city that offers much, much more to stimulate the mind and nourish the soul. 

Happy 2008!

My wish to all is that 2008 is the year that brings you joy, prosperity, good health, and peace.

Note: If the lights on the tree are not twinkling, click on the picture. The larger image will show twinkling lights.

It's Vegas, baby!

From the land of excess of every description, I wish you a Merry Christmas!

P.S. No, this is NOT my house.

Working at last!

Las Vegas Skyline

I haven't written about it yet, but six weeks ago I started working for a worldwide language school that just opened at one of the local colleges here in Las Vegas. We've been very busy getting the new school running smoothly and getting familiar with procedures, courses, and materials. I was so surprised to find out that this new company is affiliated with the one I worked for in Japan, as I had never heard of them before. So far, I'm the only full-time instructor but there are several part-timers. The director was, in his words, "extremely impressed" by my teaching credentials from Japan, so I'm happy that my adventure in Tokyo paid off.

It feels great to be back to teaching and earning an income again. I had been unemployed for several months and it was really starting to worry me that I wouldn't be able to find work here in the U.S. After all the resumes I sent out, including individualized cover letters, I hadn't gotten so much as a "thank you for your application."

Rant Alert: It's one of my pet peeves that businesses don't have enough consideration for the hard work people do to apply for a job to at least send an automated email reply:

Thank you for your application. If we feel your qualifications match our requirements, we will contact you for an interview. Please do not reply to this email.

It takes so little effort for a company to reply to applicants. They should be ashamed of themselves for such callous disregard. On the other hand, I suppose it's a good indication of how well those companies treat their own employees, so maybe I wouldn't want to work there anyway.

Since the school is so new, we only had a handful of students for the first 4-week session. We still have all of those same students plus a few more for our second session which just started this week. Most of the students are from Korea, Thailand, and Vietnam and as of right now I have only had Korean students. Since Las Vegas is known for its hospitality industry, many of these students come here hoping to enter UNLV and study hotel management. Before they can enroll in an American university, however, they must become more proficient in English. Our students range from the lowest levels of English to quite high, and currently I'm teaching the highest level—which requires a lot of extra preparation.

The commute is the worst part about being employed, but it's not as bad as when I lived in the Seattle area. I had just gotten so used to the convenience of Tokyo trains that I forgot about the reality for most Americans—having to commute to work by car in rush-hour traffic.

I seem to have adjusted well enough, and now my life is starting to feel more familiar. While it can be wonderful to have an extended "vacation," the reality is that it's not too enjoyable when you're wondering when your next paycheck will arrive.

Glad to be back to work!

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!

I know a lot of you who read this blog live in other countries, but here in the U.S. today is Thanksgiving. Mostly, it seems like this day of "remembering to be thankful for what we have" turns into the starting gate for shopping madness. Starting at 4a.m. Friday, dozens of stores start opening for their annual Black Friday sales, including Target, Circuit City, Best Buy, Wal-Mart, Toys-R-Us, etc. This year the sales are also online, starting today (maybe they were last year, too, but this is my first Thanksgiving back in the states).

For many of the hottest sale items, people will camp out overnight to be first in line when the doors open in the morning.

Giving all of this serious thought—say 3 seconds or less—there's nothing I can think of buying that I'd be willing to camp out overnight to get. And there's definitely nothing I want to buy so much that I'd be willing to shove my way through huge crowds of bargain hunters. After living in Tokyo and trying to make it through the Shibuya Crossing at least once a month, I never want to be out in big crowds again.

While I'm not saying I don't like a good sale now and then, I'd much rather order something online. Here's just one of many websites that are tracking the sales.

But today, I'm just going to relax and enjoy a simple life. T&J got a nice little Butterball turkey to roast and we'll begin our Thanksgiving when J gets home from work (in Las Vegas, where so many people work in the hospitality industry, there are no holidays). After dinner, we'll probably just kick back and watch a movie. Boring? Maybe, but it sounds good to me.

Hope you're having (or had) a great Thanksgiving!

Now that I'm back. . .

Oh yes, the vacation! Sorry to be away so long from my blog but after my recent trip to Arizona and Mexico, I felt the need to focus on my job search and put Gambatte! on the back burner for a while.

The trip was beyond wonderful! While it felt strange to be back in the driver's seat after more than 3 years of not driving at all in Japan, it felt completely natural to be driving again. For my first time behind the wheel of a car, I drove nearly 300 miles to Sedona, Arizona, and then another 250 to Tucson. The pictures of Sedona posted in September were exactly what I saw, and it was absolutely gorgeous! What an incredible place! I'll definitely go back for a longer stay and do some hiking next time.

During the retreat in Tucson I got to spend a lot of time walking around the beautiful monastery grounds covering 132 acres. Mostly I just hung out in the Japanese garden with its beautiful bridge over a koi pond. Call me a nerd, but I could spend hours watching fish, and especially these elegant koi.



After 6 blissful days at the retreat, I flew to Mexico to begin the first leg of my visit to Copper Canyon aboard the privately owned El CHEPE, a modern, clean and comfortable train. The view was breathtaking, especially as the train crossed from canyon to canyon over high bridges. I was a little surprised, however, at the presence of several uzi-carrying, black-uniformed federales who regularly passed through the train cars. We found out later that they are there to protect the passengers from local gangs or banditos who have, on occasion, attacked the trains to rob tourists. They became a real concern back in 2002, I was told, when they shot and killed an American doctor who was filming their attack. Since that time, federales were hired to ride the trains. Believe me, these guys looked tough enough to handle any type of attack. I felt quite safe.

It took around 6 hours to reach the tiny town where our guide awaited us. Six of us piled into his 9-passenger SUV and began our ride to the lodge perched on the edge of an 8,000 foot canyon. We were told it was an "unpaved" road and would take a little more than an hour to go the next 4 miles as it was a "little rough." That was an understatement!

Unpaved turned out to be a boulder-ridden, back-breaking, death-defying, breath-holding adventure into total madness! Well, maybe that's a little dramatic, but it was downright scary. All I kept thinking about was that we'd have to do this again to return to the train station! The so-called "road" was one-car wide (barely) and had rocks the size of bowling balls littered everywhere. Most of the time, one side of the ride was a sheer drop off with no guard rails and full of hairpin switch backs. Our guide, admittedly an excellent driver, talked cheerfully to us the entire time and assured us that he was an expert at driving this trail, even in the winter with snow, or during the summer rainy season. He said, as the car lurched side to side, the road was much better now because it had recently been smoothed out a little. I wanted to take pictures along the way, but my camera was in my backpack and I was too paralyzed with fear to attempt to move to reach for it.

We finally made it to the lodge and it turned out to be more than worth the frightening ride. The rooms were clean and comfortable, the view was spectacular, and the food was delicious. Our two guides were friendly, funny, and very polite and helpful. They both spoke English quite well and filled us in on the history of the lodge and Tarahumara Indians who owned the land and the lodge. We watched the men carry huge loads of large, heavy bricks on their shoulders as they walked up and down the steep steps to build an addition to the lodge. I could barely manage one trip up and down the steps in the thin air of these mountains, and they did this for hours at a time.

(Double-click on any picture to enlarge it.)


A young Tarahumara girl, in brightly-colored traditional clothing and carrying her 3-month-old baby, displayed her small hand-woven baskets the next morning before breakfast. She was 15 years old. Adriano, one of our guides, told me the girls are usually married by the age of 12. The head guide, Julio, told me that he and his wife had delivered this young girl's baby because the doctor was at a festival and could not reach the hospital in time. The baby was named after him and he became the godfather.

I teased him about what his resume would look like because he seemed to be capable of doing anything and everything! He was a guide, driver, host, bartender, brick mason, painter, plasterer, plumber, and midwife, and I'm sure he had even more skills!

Here's a picture of Julio (l) and Adriano (r), our two guides, inside the main lodge.



This is a picture of the young mother's sister, and her 10-year-old brother holding his niece.


The brother was quite a sweet boy and seemed to like following me around. I had, out of habit and surely not out of necessity, locked my room when I left it to go to the main lodge for breakfast my first morning there. When I came back to my room, I couldn't get the key to work, no matter how many times I tried. The girl with the baby saw me struggling and shyly approached to help me with the key. She couldn't get it to work either. I saw her say something to her little brother and he quickly disappeared. I thought he had gone to get one of our guides to try to fix the lock but soon realized he had scampered behind the lodge (reminder: it sits on the EDGE of a very high and steep mountain!) to climb up through my room's bathroom window. In a flash he was opening the door for me, grinning ear to ear. I laughed at the sight of him and gladly handed him some money for his effort. He looked very surprised and grinned even more. Here's a picture of him but, sadly, I can't remember his name, although I think it might have been Eduardo.

The Tarahumara are quite shy around strangers, but this little guy and I had a good time together. One day Adriano took three of us on a short hike over to the chief's little hut, and there was this same boy sitting on a rock with a big grin and holding a long stick. We laughed when we saw each other and I quickly picked up another stick to play sword fight with him. He thought that was so funny as we each got in a few blows.

The kids there had such a sweet innocence about them. Their lives, while harsh and simple, are spent outdoors most of the time. They fearlessly scamper barefoot all over the mountains and treat everyone and everything respectfully. I never heard any crying nor angry voices among any of the Tarahumara.

Their homes are very tiny—about 60 square feet or so—and made of concrete blocks with no electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, furniture, or any of the other conveniences we take for granted (except in the lodge). I didn't even see any doors or windows—just small openings. I can't imagine what it must be like for them in the winter when it gets quite cold. Some of the people still live in caves, just like their ancestors did thousands of years ago. I wanted to take pictures of the chief's home, but felt it would be disrespectful, so just try to imagine something impossibly small and bleak, that sleeps maybe 9 people squished together. I know—it's hard to imagine.

The lodge, on the other hand, was spacious and comfortable. Here's a picture of the dining room with its magnificent view of the surrounding canyons.


It ran on solar power, but in the evenings there was no power at all in the lodge so everything was lit by candles. It created such a beautiful dining experience. I think the kitchen ran on kerosene. On our first night we lingered over fresh margaritas and stimulating conversations among the 6 of us and our 2 guides while a spectacular lightning storm flashed across the dark skies. With each crack of thunder, we laughed in awe at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to sit "on top of the world," completely away from civilization as we knew it, and marvel over the celestial dinner show.

A few days later, it was time to leave this fantastic place and return to our former lives. It made my heart sad to leave this beautiful, tranquil place. Knowing it is there and filled with the kindness of the wonderful people who live and work at this lodge, however, makes me very, very happy. I'll miss the Uno Lodge and the gentle Tarahumara, but hope to return there some day.

Maybe by that time the road will be paved!

Sedona Sunrise and more

Can't wait to see this incredibly beautiful landscape! It's located in the state of Arizona in the U.S., about 110 miles north of Phoenix, and has become a Mecca for Hollywood glitterati and spiritual seekers. I'll be leaving Thursday with my friend who's visiting from Tokyo.



We're on our way to a retreat center outside of Tucson in St. David, Arizona and will drive from Las Vegas through Sedona where we'll stay overnight, and then drive on down to Tucson.

I'm staying an extra 3 days at the retreat, but my friend will fly to Mexico to do a little exploring. We'll meet up again on the 13th in Los Mochis (state of Sinaloa) Mexico, located near the Sea of Cortez. And of course, wouldn't you just know it, they had a 6.3 earthquake yesterday, so I'm sure we'll be feeling some of the aftershocks!



Upon arriving in Los Mochis, we'll take a 90-minute shuttle to El Fuerte where we'll board the famous Chihuahua al Pacifico train early the next morning for a 405-mile-long journey to an eco-lodge perched on the rim of the Copper Canyon in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico.





The train ride rises to more than 8,000 feet (12,900 km) as it cuts through the Sierre Madre Mountains. We'll cross 39 bridges and go through 86 tunnels along its route. It passes through—and sometimes over—farms, hills, towering cliffs, rust-colored canyon walls, river beds, pine forests and Indian villages and takes about 14 hours. It's four times larger than the Grand Canyon and almost 300 feet deeper!





And, it's also the home of the legendary long-distance runners and cave or cliff dwelling Tarahumara Indians, with roots stretching back to the Anasazi.



The eco-lodge where we'll stay has only solar energy—no electricity—but has its own chef who prepares delicious meals from fresh ingredients. It has been featured in Frommer's Mexico, and National Geographic Adventure says the partnership with the lodge and the (Tarahumara) "has resulted in the preservation of 65,000 acres of nearby habitat."



This is a view looking down at the lodge. Nice, eh?

So I leave September 6th and will be away from any computer access for 13 days. It will be hard to be away from my umbilical to the world, but I'm looking forward to this adventure of a lifetime! Will post more pictures when I return.

Thanks, but no thanks!

This video came from Trends in Japan aka CScout Japan. It shows a place called Tokyo Summerland with its "wave" pool where apparently thousands can jump in to cool off. I can't imagine trying this with so many people, but it's the Obon holiday and people will do anything to escape the sweltering heat.

Sugarcoating the future

I'm finally convinced the U.S. really is the land of milk and honey—or rather, milk and sugar. Is there anything that doesn't include massive quantities of sugar?

We had pizza from Pizza Hut and I thought there was something wrong with my tastebuds because the first flavor came up sweet! Wait, wasn't this a pepperoni pizza? The two flavors didn't compute and with each bite it reconfirmed there was definitely sugar in this pizza! Sugar in pizza? At first I thought it was the sauce but it was actually the dough! T said their new dough recipe now contains sugar. As if anyone in the U.S. needs more sugar in their diet.

After living in Tokyo where people say they don't eat sweets (even though there are at least two bakery shops on each block), I got used to less sweetened sweets. They just don't use as much sugar in their pastries and I learned to like the "less is better" approach. But now that I'm in the U.S. everything tastes so sweet!

Maybe people should be investing in sugar futures which were up 60% from last year. Of course, the future isn't just about eating more sugar, even though that's actually what the entire world is doing now. It's about using it as an alternative energy source. If it's used for alternative energy, will sugar gradually be cut back in Coca-Cola, Twinkies, or Pizza Hut pizza? Will restaurants and coffeshops start charging for sugar packets? Will people start losing weight? Will children suddenly turn calm and focus on their school work?

I'm appalled at such blasphemous thoughts!

Can't break the habit

It's quite surprising how a habit can become so comfortable so quickly. I mean, I only lived in Japan for three years, but I can't stop bowing.

So far, I've bowed to drivers who allow me to cross in front of them to get into the supermarket. I've bowed to the bank teller. I've bowed to the clerk who rings up my items at Costco and at the post office. So far, I haven't bowed on the phone yet, but I still don't trust myself.

Bowing seems so natural and it's hard to stop.

Maybe I should check myself into some kind of rehab.

Got drugs?

What in the world is happening to America? Is everyone really on drugs? And I'm not even referring to the illegal type. I'm talking about the kind you get with a prescription from your doctor.

If you've watched American TV lately, you can't go five minutes (I swear!) without seeing an ad for some kind of drug that's going to make you sleep soundly, lower your cholesterol, get rid of your allergies, improve your sex life, control your high blood pressure or diabetes, ease your arthritis pain, take away your depression or anxiety and give you a reason to live.

Apparently, since 1997 when the Food & Drug Administration relaxed its rules about advertising, the pharmaceutical companies rejoiced, and in 2006 spent $5.29 billion on consumer advertising. This of course makes me wonder who's in bed with the FDA.

Worse yet, the pharms are so wily as to present much of their advertising as Public Service Announcements (PSAs) to advocate for disease awareness. Not so surprisingly, health care costs in America have skyrocketed because 1 out of 3 people who see those ads asks his or her doctor about prescribing the medication.

I'm not saying there aren't ample and valid reasons for taking prescribed medications, but I am wondering why we've become such a drugged-out nation. There seems to be an obvious correlation between the amount of money spent on advertising and the number of people asking their doctors for prescriptions.

With the push to bring each new drug to market faster and faster—thereby making pharms richer and richer—and the increasingly familiar headlines about potentially lethal side effects of some of those drugs, why are so many people still inclined to chase that magic pill for a perceived instantaneous fix?

In Japan, drug advertising is still prohibited, but like so many other things, Japan will probably eventually relax its restrictions due to the aging population and pressure from the pharms.

Here are some numbers that indicate the power of advertising:

$4.65 billion—Amount of consumer advertising spent by the pharmaceutical industry in 2005
$5.29 billion—Amount of consumer advertising spent by the pharmaceutical industry in 2006
$4.20—Amount of additional sales each $1 in advertising generates
16—Average number of hours of prescription drug advertising Americans see each year

Sources: TNS Media Intelligence, Kaiser Family Foundation, Journal of Health Communication

Hopefully, people will start waking up to the fact that they're being manipulated for the sake of greed.

For anyone who's interested in a more serious take on what's happening with drug advertising, here's another video (which makes a first for me to include 2 videos in one post.)

Lightning, thunder and other things that make noise

Monsoon season is definitely here. We've had our share of lightning and thunder storms over the past couple of weeks, but not that much rain. Here's a very cool photo of the Luxor Hotel Casino and the Mandalay Bay that I borrowed from the All Hat No Cattle blog taken last year, but I'm sure it must have looked close to the same this year.

Speaking of rain...J&T decided to call a roofing company to take care of a leak they had in the roof last spring that left a stain on the living room ceiling. Early yesterday morning I was awakened by the footsteps and pounding of the roofer who came to fix the leak. Wouldn't you know that in the middle of his repairs it started lightning and thundering, and I was a little worried about his safety. Then it started raining, but by that time he had finished the job. So now we can all relax and not worry about any more leaks. . .we hope!

There's been quite a bit of activity around the ol' homestead these past few weeks. J&T have decided to do some remodeling and have spent tons of time looking at kitchen appliances, lighting, flooring, furniture, paint chips, patio furniture, and plants. Well, you get the idea. It's been fun for me because I haven't had anything to do with house stuff since 2002 when I sold my Oregon house. Watching them do all the planning, coordinating and arranging actually makes me miss owning a home. Those are the things that really make a house your own, but can increase the stress level--not mine--theirs!

Jonesing for soba

Today was a perfect day for cold soba noodles for dinner. It was hot. Nothing else sounded good, and I wanted something quick and easy to make for dinner. The only ingredient I was missing was nori, but I thinly sliced a green onion and scattered that over my noodles instead.

Strange as it might sound, I've only made soba noodles one other time, and that was before I moved to Tokyo. They turned out awful because I didn't know I was supposed to pour a little cold water into the boiling pot to cool down the outside of the noodles, allowing the inside to cook better. I also didn't know I was supposed to rinse them like crazy after cooking to get rid of the starchiness and smell. The first time they turned out doughy and overcooked, and I wondered what all the hoopla was about soba. But once I got to Tokyo and ate them (or udon) fairly often, I became quite addicted. In the summer there are all sorts of cold noodle dishes you can buy already made at the grocery stores or convenience stores, so I never had to heat up my kitchen to boil water.

So, tonight I found myself alone for dinner and decided to give it a try. I had already bought nice soba noodles at Trader Joe's a couple of weeks ago in anticipation of my craving. I also had some hontsuyu soup base that I needed for the dipping sauce and some powdered wasabi that I mixed up and added to the sauce. It turned out quite tasty, if I do say so myself! Along with the soba, I made a cucumber salad with mirin vinegar. Everything was very simple and tasted cool and refreshing.

However, I really do miss the convenience of buying prepared meals. I rarely cooked while living in Tokyo--because I didn't need to! Prepared meals were delicious and inexpensive, and usually ended up costing me less in the long run because I didn't need to buy larger quantities that got jammed into my tiny fridge and forgotten as they got shoved to the back.

I still haven't tried sushi or sashimi since leaving Japan. Somehow, I think whatever I try here will be a big disappointment. We keep getting menus in the mail and one of them was for a new sushi restaurant. When I looked at the pictures and descriptions, they sounded too much like California-style sushi. Too exotic or manipulated. Japanese sushi is very simple--fish caught the same day draped over perfectly cooked and seasoned rice. There's very little else done to sushi. Wish I had some right now.

Triple digits and holding

I promise not to make this a weather channel blog, but couldn't help myself this morning. Here are some screenshots I took of the forecast this morning, posted in both Fahrenheit and Celsius for your viewing pleasure.




Even though we all say, "well, it's the desert you know, and it's a dry heat," this is definitely hot!

On July 3rd we went to a community fireworks show, even though we didn't find out about it until almost starting time. There were thousands of people at the park, but we managed to find a nice, grassy area to pitch our blanket just in time to catch a little of the live bands playing. The fireworks were great and it wasn't too hot to enjoy the evening, only around 98F or so, I think. But last night was a different story as we sat on the patio. It was still blazing hot at around 107F. As the night wore on, and more and more neighborhood fireworks took to the skies, we decided to walk around to view the fireworks madness that is Las Vegas. (Note: We don't actually live that close to the more familiar Las Vegas Strip. We're at least 15 miles away in the suburbs.)

Even though aerial fireworks are banned, you wouldn't have known it from our viewpoint. Too bad I don't have photos, but it's really hard to take good nighttime photos of fireworks. After about an hour of walking around, we decided to go back to the house and watch more pyrotechnics from the patio. We were all a little worried about the extreme danger of fires, considering the intense heat and dryness in this desert valley. Those bans are in effect for a reason, but as I said, everyone pretty much ignores them. Haven't watched any news yet today, but wouldn't be surprised if it included footage of burning homes or buildings!

So, this morning I broke out the iced coffee for breakfast. Couldn't bear the thought of drinking hot coffee. We're keeping the house thermostat set on 87F now to try to keep our bodies more acclimated to the intense outside heat, and to keep the electricitiy bills down a little. Even so, the A/C keeps kicking on as the house heats up quickly. I have a window A/C unit in my bedroom (or as T calls it, the meat locker), which I only run at night, but if I keep my door closed, the room stays pretty comfortable until evening.

Hope you're all managing to stay cool!

So, where was I?

Right. I've left Tokyo. That was exactly one month ago, although it feels like it was just last week.

It's been a bit of a rough transition for me because I got so used to an active life with friends, colleagues, and students. Now I'm back to my former reclusive lifestyle where I rarely leave the house, for which there are two reasons: 1) I don't have a car, and 2) it's hot, damn hot! Today was 110F (43.3C) with 3% humidity. That's so dry your skin feels like it's going to crawl off your bones. Dry. My throat has felt parched for two days although I've been drinking gallons of water.

The heat isn't anything like the heat of Tokyo, though, and for that I'm very thankful. Tokyo's heat is like a steaming pool of wetness that you carry around on your head and watch it drip down your body until it reaches your toes. It's incessant and oppressive.

I haven't found work yet, but that's not too big a worry right now. I figured I'd give myself a month off before actively seeking something. J thinks I should become a nanny for a well-off Summerlin family. Considering I have no desire or skill for that type of job, it's probably safe to say it won't be happening any time soon. I'm looking into some ESL teaching jobs at a university but the pay seems to be really low. I mean really, really low. So, there's always writing or editing work, and some of those jobs can be done from home. I could become a telecommuter, which would take me full circle back to 1998 when I wrote an article for American Demographics magazine about telecommuting. "It's like deja vu all over again."

So, other than the heat, the transportation dilemma, no job, and the loneliness, I'm doing fine.

It's not that I'm not enjoying J&T. When we're together, it's great and we have a good time--even if it's just running errands, watching TV or relaxing in the spa. I'm happy to be here and it makes me feel good to be with my family, but I guess it's just that I'm missing the work and social life I had in Tokyo. Maybe this feeling will diminish once I'm employed and meeting people. I don't have any friends here in Las Vegas, so it feels a little weird.

The other thing I'm missing is the food. I really fell in love with Japanese food--well, most of it. Never grew fond of the slippery raw whole baby squid thingy--sometimes eaten as a snack with sake--or natto. But for the most part, everything else I ate was delicious and beautifully presented. Mostly I miss the sushi and sashimi and I'm pretty sure I'll never find anything to match that kind of freshness here in Vegas. It's hot now so it reminds me of the delicious cold soba or udon noodles I subsisted on each summer, and the fact that I rarely needed to cook anything as it was readily available as takeout from supermarkets or convenience stores.

But the good news is that I can now go back to experimenting with my Thai and Vietnamese cooking. In Tokyo my kitchen was the size of a broom closet and I only had one skillet, one pot and almost no counter space. Billions of people around Asia turn out exquisite meals with far less, but I need room to cook! As Eddy said in the TV series Absolutely Fabulous, "I need surfaces, darling!"

Another major hurdle that I'm proud to say I survived was getting my household goods shipped from Japan. The paperwork was atrocious, but I endured, thinking that it would all be over once I got to the U.S. Hah! Silly girl! The container in which my goods were shipped was pulled at the port for x-raying, which was fine even though it delayed the shipping to L.V. by another week. I received numerous emails from the L.A. warehouse with updates about my shipment which included several downloadable PDF files.

I spent a seemingly inordinate amount of time making phone calls to the L.A. /L.V warehouses to try to coordinate what they were doing and get cashier's checks mailed off for additional shipping costs at this end. I was supposed to bring all these documents with me to the warehouse in L.V., but my printers were in the boxes being shipped and J&T don't have a printer. Thank goodness for Kinko's which now has an amazing service that will print out documents from a memory stick plugged directly into their counter desktop monitor. It took about 15 seconds and cost me 26 cents! Unbelieveable! However, we did have to drive about 10 miles to find a Kinko's because the new one just minutes away hasn't opened yet.

Then there was the confrontation with airport customs. I had to take all my shipping documents to customs for a clearance on my goods. The agent who "helped" me was anything but helpful. In fact, he was more like an evil control freak who was determined to express his manliness through intimidation. "Do you have anything less than a year old in your shipment", he asked with attitude, never looking up from his computer monitor from several feet away. I said, "I don't know. I might have some things less than a year old, but I'm not sure." He cocked his head to look up at me and repeated (as though I were an idiot who didn't understand him the first time), "do. . .you. . .have. . .anything. . .that's. . .less. . .than. . . one. . .year. . .old?" At the risk of irritating him more, I said, "I'm sorry, but I didn't keep track of when and what things I bought, so I really don't know. All I know is that I lived there for three years." The air was thick with unbridled irritation at my reply. I thought it was at that moment that he was going to 'cuff me, take me into a back room and waterboard me until I answered his question. A few anxious moments passed and then he picked up my papers and went into a back room that was closed off by a doorway. Gulp. When he returned about 10 minutes later, he walked slowly to his desk carrying one of my documents, stooped over to stamp something in red, and then--just as slowly--walked over and handed it to me like it was a revoltingly soiled diaper. Not knowing what I was supposed to do at that point, I asked, "Is that all?" to which he snarled, "You're free to go now." One of his colleagues, sitting at a nearby desk, said, "Thank you and have a nice day," as he continued looking at his computer monitor.

What a strange and unsettling encounter with this unfamiliar and somewhat frightening process!Anyway, I was glad it was over and couldn't wait to leave that frozen and heartless blackhole called customs. Going through customs as an airline passenger has always been a breeze with courteous, yet reserved, agents. This experience with my shipment was the total opposite.

So, that's what's been going through my mind and my life the past few weeks. I've decided, for now anyway, to keep blogging under the same blog name but if that changes I'll post an update on this blog. Gambatte!, after all, means to keep doing your best, and that's what I'll continue trying to do here in L.V.

Goodbye Tokyo, I'll miss you!

Sorry I've been away from my blog for a little while. Life has been a little crazy the last few weeks and I'm finally able to sit down and think about this blog.

Leaving Tokyo last week was bittersweet. There are so many people and things I'll miss:

Friends/Students: Including Judy, Courtney, Colleen, Jonathan, Jeremy, Eric, Satoko, Steve, Val, Amanda, Michael, Devon, David, Hiroko, Jean, Rieko, Hisae, Rumiko, Michiko, Emi, Chikako, Mayuko, Ryosuke, Tadashi, Chieko, Sachiko, Yohei, Rika, Yumi, Sho, Kosaku, Mayumi, Hiroko, Fumiko, Aki, Naombu, and friends who have already left--Michelle, Wendy, Emma, Elisa.

Food/Beverages: Impeccably fresh sushi and sashimi such as ebi, ikura, uni, maguro, and hamachi; bento; tofu (the REAL kind) and yuba; burdock root salads, mountain potatoes and all the other beautiful fruit and vegetables; Japanese tsukemono (pickles); sake (the huge variety), chu-hi (my beverage of choice); and especially the beauty and artistry of every food presentation which never failed to thrill me.

Trains: Really! Most of the time I was lucky enough to ride on less crowded trains. As long as you don't have to ride trains during rush hour, there's no better transportation service in the world than the reliable and convenient train system in Japan. While expensive, it nevertheless meant I never needed a car and could go anywhere I wanted quickly and safely.

Karaoke: Lots of fun with friends!

Konbinis: Convenience stores that really are convenient! There's almost always at least one near every train station or within two or three blocks from where anyone lives. Most of them sell bentos that are much healthier than the traditional hotdogs or fake cheese-laden nachos and other crap that's available in American convenience stores.

Vending Machines: You name it, you can find it in a vending machine!

Places: Shibuya--especially the Food Show, Hachiko (for meeting people), the BIG crossing, Bic Camera, the Apple Store, 0101, Blister, Loft, and millions more! Omotesando, Tameike-sanno, Ginza, Hiro, Ebisu, Roppongi, Shinjuku, Yoyogi park, Harajuku, Jiyugaoka, and on and on and on.

Izakaya: All those great, inexpensive places to go to eat and/or drink with friends after work.

Kimono: The gorgeous patterns and colors!

Temples and Shrines: Such beautiful places.

Festivals and Fireworks: Seems like there's always something happening.

There are just so many more things, but for now that's the highlight of my memories of Japan.

It's been quite an amazing journey these past three years and I hope I never forget it (hopefully, this blog will be my biggest reminder).

My next post will be about some of my feelings since arriving back in the U.S. Still haven't figured out what to do with this blog--change its name or what exactly? Anyway, I'll continue blogging under "Gambatte!" until I do decide. I hope you'll stay tuned.

How many people does it take to. . .?

OK, here's a perfect example of a very typical situation in Tokyo. Something's malfunctioning with the automatic gates in the train station. What to do? Send in eight guys--seven to watch and one to do the work. You can't see the eighth guy in the picture, but he's hunkered down on the floor in front of the four guys on the left. I see this sort of thing all the time and it really explains why everything costs so much in Japan!

Another thing you can't see in this picture is, I assume, the uniformed station master standing just out of range of my viewfinder. He saw me aiming my camera and stepped back.

Only one week left in Japan

Here's the guy I had a date with yesterday. OK, so maybe it wasn't really t-h-a-t kind of date, but he was all smiley and cute and I just had to take a picture of him. (Too bad it looks like he's got a laundry pole going through his head or that he's wearing some kind of strange laundry hat, but hey, it's a small patio!) He was from the shipping company and came to get my boxes. That's an apron he's wearing over his jeans, but I don't know what it says--probably the name of the shipping company.

I was surprised to see only one guy! Isn't this Japan, the country where it takes at least two people to do any one task? He was supposed to show up between 5:30 and 6:00 but called me at 4:00 to say he would be there early, at 4:30. Of course, all this was in Japanese. I've learned to use very basic English in these situations where neither of us can understand each other, so I said, "five-three-zero?" And he laughed and said, "four-three-zero." I said, "OK, see you then." "Hai," he said.

Anyway, when he got to my apartment there was the language barrier again as I attempted to ask him if he had any stickers for marking certain boxes "FRAGILE" to which he just smiled in that nervous "what the hell is she saying?" kind of way. This time I had to call the shipping company which is run by a bi-cultural couple, and explain what I wanted. She then asked to speak to Mr. Cute Shipper Guy and explained what I wanted. He did a lot of "Hai, hai, hai, hai!" and hung up. In a minute or two my phone rang and it was the shipping company apologizing for the guy having hung up before she could tell me that he said he didn't have any labels with him but would put them on the boxes I had marked "Fragile" later.

We'll see.

So, now I must focus on getting rid of the stuff that didn't go at the sayonara sale, cleaning my frig, and packing everything that's left into my suitcases. I also have to handle my cell phone cancellation (see Rants & Raves below) go to the bank to exchange money, and buy a few small gifts for my managers and staff. Oh, and work. Saturday is my last day at work and I'll leave Japan on May 29th.

Things are moving too fast!

Sayonara sale

Today I hauled a bunch of stuff out on a little patio adjacent to my apartment and had a Sayonara Sale. While I don't know any of my neighbors, except to bow slightly and say a quick hello, they seemed most eager to see what I had on offer.


One neighbor has a cute little 3-year-old grandchild who came to see what was going on. I had anticipated her interest and had saved a pink pig bathroom set for her (no, I didn't buy it, it was given to me by one of my zany friends) and she was thrilled. She, her grandparents, and her mom and dad took the bulk of my things. Almost everything was free but they insisted on giving me a little money nevertheless.

Then I was totally surprised when one of their other grandchildren handed me a bag with two cans of chilled beer inside! I didn't realize until much later that the grandfather had dropped a 500 yen coin inside the bag. I do remember that he beamed as he watched his grandson hand it to me. Nobody spoke much English, and of course I don't speak Japanese, but it will be one of my fondest memories of Japan.

While I've heard--and seen firsthand--that most Japanese just toss their unwanted items in the trash, it made me feel good knowing that I wasn't adding too much to the massive landfills that must exist around Japan. Everyone who walked down my street stopped to dig through items and usually found a few things to take home. One lady came back about five times, as did the grandparents and their grandchild.

All in all, I think everyone felt a little happier with the "treasures" they took home, and I know I felt a little bit of an ache in my heart as I realized that in about a week I will be leaving Japan. Today erased some of the memories of the irritating things about Tokyo, and reminded me that no matter what country or city, people can interract with kindness and friendship. And best of all, today showed me once again that language is no barrier to what the heart can feel.

Segoi! (セゴイ！)

Why am I even surprised?

There's a good reason why so many people are employed in Japan. Many of them have been given jobs that do nothing more than make it extremely difficult for anyone to do things in a timely way. It goes beyond bureaucracy. How anyone could use the Japanese business model as a model of efficiency is truly beyond my grasp.

Yesterday my landlady and I were on the phone for half an hour trying to cancel my cell phone account. First they asked her a million questions, then they asked me to repeat everything in English (although the woman taking the information spoke no English). Then, after I thought everything was completed, my landlady handed me the phone and said they had a bi-lingual person who could talk to me in English. Why didn't they do that in the first place? So, I went through the whole thing again, explaining that I was leaving Japan and needed to cancel my cell phone. Our conversation went on and on, just like the previous two conversations, and then she cheerfully thanked me for using SoftBank--and finished by saying, "Now you must go to the SoftBank shop and complete your cancelation. Please plan on one hour at the shop to do this."

"WHAT?" I asked incredulously. "Are you telling me that after talking to you and your colleagues for the past 30 minutes I STILL have to go, in person, to a SoftBank shop and that it will take me one hour to complete the cancellation?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but you must go to the shop," she said cheerfully.

"But I need my phone until the morning of my departure. I won't have time to go to the SoftBank shop as I'm going to be, well, just a little freaking busy!"

"Oh," she said with that perky, smiley voice, "you can do it at the airport! We have two shops there!"

Right. Like I want to go to the airport an extra hour earlier just so I can have the privilege of cancelling my phone.

Some of my friends at work told me that SoftBank tries to talk people out of cancelling their phone service or to make it nearly impossible for them to do so. Reminds me of AOL.

Ask me if I'd ever use a SoftBank phone again.

For Jenn on Mother's Day

There's nothing more wonderful than being a mother, and I try to remember that every day and give thanks. There's also no job more difficult than being a mother, and I don't think enough women are appreciated for everything they do for their children.

When my daughter was finally handed to me in the hospital after a very long and difficult labor, I remember the look on her face as we eyed each other. It was like, "So, this is you!" we said to each other. I studied her face, especially her eyes, and thought, "What a wise old soul you are!"

Over the years, with each passing stage of her childhood, I marveled at the growing individual who had once stared into my eyes as that unblinking newborn, and I tried to imagine what she would be like as a grown woman. The years went by much too quickly! People always tell you, "Enjoy your child now because the years will fly by and before you know it, she will be an adult," but you never believe it.

Those childhood years are long gone now, and my beautiful daughter, my best friend, is 35 years old.

Our years together have not been without the ups and downs that any relationship goes through, especially those teenage years, but now we've found our rhythm and know how to share our thoughts and dreams. We've grown comfortable with each other.

Unfortunately, I never felt that way about my own mother. She was always, as I remember, someone who pushed people away with her strange and unloving behavior. I vowed it would never be like that if I were lucky enough to have a daughter. I wanted desperately to be a mother and to show my child how much she was loved. I never wanted her to doubt her place in my heart.

As if by some miracle, that wish came true. Thank you, Jenn, for making me a mom, and thank you Mom, wherever you are, for inspiring me to be a better mother.

In a mad rush

Sorry I haven't had time to post much lately. I'm busy sorting, pitching, and packing to leave Tokyo on May 29th. It's all happening so fast that my head is spinning.

On top of all that, I decided to work Golden Week, the week of four holidays and Children's Day. It's a nice way to make a little extra money, and I didn't have plans to go anywhere anyway. Still, I sort of regret not taking the time to go see more of Japan. I have to admit I'm not good at going places by myself (although I came all the way to Japan by myself!), especially when I don't speak the language. The hoped-for visits by family and friends never materialized, unfortunately, so I ended up working most holidays and only taking vacations home to the U.S.

Anyway, I'm feeling very excited about returning home. It will be great to be able to read signs and find familiar things in grocery stores and restaurants. I'm really looking forward to eating Mexican food again!

Ironically, the entire time I've lived in Japan I've wanted a cat, which was a definite no-no with my landladies. After moving to my new apartment last October, I thought long and hard about getting a cat but decided not to because I didn't know what my plans were, and didn't want to have to consider shipping a cat by air. In the last 10 days or so, a 3-legged cat has decided to take up residence on my patio, next to my washing machine. "She's" very skinny, in poor health, and very shy. I've put out food for her and she has rewarded me with her loyal presence each morning and evening. I wonder about what might have happened to her poor leg, and today as she was cleaning herself in the sunshine, I got a better look through my sliding door. I thought maybe it was a birth defect, but it looks like it was cut off. Poor baby! I wonder what her story is and wish I could ask her, but she apparently doesn't speak English and I don't speak Japanese!

Cat's have a very difficult life in Tokyo. Most of them have some kind of eye and nose congestion. Many of them have feline AIDS, I'm told. People don't seem to consider spaying or neutering their cats, so the population grows because they're outdoor cats. So, life as a street cat is just plain tough.

Fortunately, I have a close friend who is very active in cat welfare in Tokyo and has offered to come trap the little gal, take her to a vet for neutering, get her on antibiotics, and find a good home for her. I sure hope she's successful! This little kitty has had more trauma than any cat deserves, and I hope she can spend the rest of her days being loved and cared for properly.

DaVinci and more codes!

Here's a fascinating video about the latest in code decryption at Rosslyn Chapel, which was featured in the movie, The DaVinci Code.

Apparently, there were codes embedded onto some of the carvings inside the chapel. A father and son, who became intrigued by the carvings have deciphered a musical score based on these geometric figures. You can listen to a sampling of this score here.

What interests me so much about this discovery is that I've taught classes about the meaning of such symbols and images. Nothing, absolutely nothing in Renaissance history, was put into a painting, sculpture or other piece of art that didn't have meaning on many levels. While we might look at things from a purely esthetic point of view, artists from those midieval times embedded "secrets" into their art. Leonardo DaVinci was a master of this technique.

The other thing I loved about this discovery is the evidence of how sound waves create patterns. I've studied this phenomenon for a while and have found it to be mesmerizing to watch! You can achieve the same results by using large speakers and setting a flat tray filled with sand on top of the speaker. If you play one musical note at a time through that speaker, the sand will rearrange itself into a geometric pattern. Maybe crop circles are formed from some kind of similar phenomenon.

So, watch the video and see for yourself!

A birthday announcement

Today is my birthday and it will be the last one spent in Japan. After 3 years, I'm ready to go back home to America. Being an expat has been a wonderful and exciting adventure, but it's time to leave.

Last night I told my boss I was leaving the end of May. Just saying those words gave a new reality to this plan, and frightens me a little. I don't have another job yet, but will stay with my daughter and her husband while I work something out.

Six weeks will go very quickly. Wow! Can't believe I'm leaving! There's so much to do before then that my head is starting to spin.

I might have to rethink my blog name, although it seems to fit no matter where I'm living. Gambatte is Japanese for something like "keep trying to do your best" or "don't give up." So, even though I will be leaving Japan, I'll definitely keep trying to do my best.

More about this later.

State of the art in Japan

Here's an advertisement for a new phone one of my students just bought. You can actually watch TV on the screen that flips into a horizontal position. It can also be used for web browsing, spreadsheets, Word documents, etc.

The phones in Japan are quite advanced and have all kinds of special features. There's even a phone that you can use to buy things from vending machines, convenience stores, and other places. Just wave a specially equipped cell phone in front of a sensor and the payment goes on your phone bill.



Some of the latest technology includes a bar code feature where you can use the camera to take a picture of a URL, which will then be automatically added to your address book, thus avoiding the need to type it yourself.

There are quite a few advertisements popping up around Tokyo that include a bar code type of "mosaic" pattern that can talk to your cell phone. For a picture of one of these mosaics and a more indepth explanation of this technology, take a look at the following article in the New York Times.

"In Japan, McDonald's customers can already point their cellphones at the wrapping on their hamburgers and get nutrition information on their screens. Users there can also point their phones at magazine ads to receive insurance quotes, and board airplanes using their phones rather than paper tickets. And film promoters can send their movie trailers from billboards."

There are many more articles about this Radio Frequency ID (RFID) technolody and its applications here and here.

Whether or not this cell phone feature is anything I want to use, I can't say. Maybe it's just one more way for advertisers to snag consumers, and believe me when I say, "Nobody likes shopping more than the Japanese."

Can this be true?

Yesterday I was teaching a lesson to a Japanese business man, probably in his late 20s or early 30s. The lesson was about ordering something over the phone and we were doing a roleplay where he was buying a sweater from Land's End.

When we got to the part about giving his credit card information, he appeared to be baffled. I asked him to just make up a credit card number and he said, "1234." Then I said, "Well, credit cards usually have a lot more numbers," and wrote on the whiteboard to show him a long row of numbers resembling most credit cards. He looked surprised to see so many numbers.

Then I asked him for the expiration date and again, the same look of total confusion. It took what seemed like an unbelievable amount of effort and simplification to explain to him the concept of "expiration date." Finally, I said, "Let's look at one of your credit cards as an example."

"I don't have any credit cards," he said.

Curious and wondering if it was just him or if it ran in the family, I asked incredulously, "Really? What about your parents? Do they have any credit cards?"

"No," he said, "cash only."

Even though it might sound a little strange, I had to step back for a moment to take it all in. Is it really possible to live in the 21st century without a credit card?

It's actually not such a bad idea, when you stop to think about it. In America, where banks send a slew of zero-interest credit cards out in the mail to recent high school graduates, and where so many people find themselves in mountains of credit card debt, a "cash-only" society might be a wonderful thing!

Update: From my experience so far, most Japanese I've met have at least one credit card. This student was probably in the minority.

Gratitude: Is it on your to-do list today?

I must constantly remind myself to be grateful for everything in my life--the joys and the sorrows.

Visual DNA

Read my VisualDNA™     Get your own VisualDNA™

Want to know more about yourself? Take a stroll through Imagini and find your own visual DNA.

I used to teach workshops in self-discovery, and images were the basic communication tools we used to explore our life paths. Everyone holds their own unique symbols and images deep inside their consciousness, and the Imagini Web site taps into some of those images.

While it's fun and interesting to play around with those images, I don't necessarily agree with the interpretations because we each interpret life through our own life filters. By that I mean that while a rose, for example, could represent the exquisiteness of nature, it could also be someone else's symbol for a broken heart.

Anyway, enjoy Imagini !

Easter humor

OK, OK, I know I've posted this picture before, but it still makes me laugh.

And just for good measure, here's another one.

Hanami 花見 in Tokyo

Once again, it's cherry-blossom time in Japan. Today I strolled through the campus near me and took pictures of thousands of people flower viewing (called Hanami 花見) and having their picnics under the outstretched arms of 100-year-old cherry trees. It was so beautiful! Unfortunately, I don't have a fancy camera that takes gorgeous shots, but these will still give you an idea of the beauty of this time of year. (If you click on the pictures, you can see a larger image. )

The weather was perfect—although unseasonably warm—at almost 70 degrees.





It was wonderful to see so many families out enjoying the day. Children were everywhere!



Petals swirled with each gust of light wind, and the ground started turning pink.





Here are a few pictures of the cherry trees right around the corner from where I work in Jiyugaoka. These were taken early in the morning, so not many people were around. Last year the city cleared out all the bicycle parking around the cherry trees and added lots of park benches. For Hanami, they hung pink lanterns so people could gather under the trees at night to view the flowers and have their parties.






It's such a shame that this highly anticipated event lasts only one week. Nevertheless, it's quite a sight to see!