I Came Here To Gloat, But Then I Forgot

So I started having another go at a book of cryptic crosswords today.

In the history of this medium I've managed in the order of five solutions.  Five solutions over hundreds of questions and dozens of years.  Not exactly making myself seem intelligent here.

But today I nailed one.  I intuited a question without any adjoining letters helping me.  I was on top of the world (yes, I really am that sad) and then I forgot my briefcase.

Now, before you say anything, it's not really a briefcase.  It's just an A4 wallet that happens to have a lid and a carrying handle.  It's not posh and definitely not leather bound.

What it is, however, is a recepticle for every vital piece of paper and or information that I own.  It used to hold (after today, I will ensure it no longer holds this information.  Not because having your stuff in one place is inherently bad, but this folder is now tainted with bad juju and must be replaced.) postcards for those back home, letters for the same, bank books and myriad other things that identify me.

I was uncontrollably angry with myself when I arrived home without my case.  I don't think I've ever felt the same sense of self-loathing at any other point in my life.  It doesn't help that the case also holds other personal items, stuff that represents a ton of work and other items that represent the irreplaceable personal items we all hold.  What an absolute idiot.

So today I'll go back to that place and try not to forget my own goddamned feet or something.  There will, even in safe old Japan, be some loss.  If it were England it would have disappeared never to be seen again, so at least it turned up at all.  But I'd be foolish to think there won't be any repercussions for my negligence.



Acquires vases, it's said:

Urns

In case you were wondering what the cryptic was.

These Are a Few of my Angriest Things

Yes, I know the title doesn't make any sense but:

These are the things that make me angry.

So yesterday was Sunday.  Sunday in Japan means nothing being open for more than a couple of hours - kind of like the west back in 1800; when everyone had dysentery.

This wouldn't be a problem, except I wanted to buy some food.  I am a hungry fellow, that's for sure.

Anyway, I was late to the post office (it closed at 4) which meant I couldn't buy food.

Why do I need to go to the post office to buy food?  Well, simply put, everything is cash here.  I'm sure I've written about it before, but a country that relies on cash is a country begging to fall into obscurity.  It appears to me, that a cash carrying society is ridiculous in every sense in this era.  When we devolve into the spineless soup coloured blob monsters from that cartoon where everyone whistles, and they live on the moon (I can hear my dads impression of it now, but I don't know the name); we will all use cash.  It's such a backwards form of bartering - paper assuming value; that's like using spaghetti to build bridges!  (Or something)

We must start using the digital - credit cards for everything.

Of course there is a problem with that.  The Japanese really enjoy being gouged at every opportunity.  They love a good, solid, cactus based rectal examination - that's the only reason they put up with it costing them more than one pound fifty (current exchange rates may vary; bank of Sam) to withdraw money from an ATM that isn't affiliated with their bank.  In fact, I think they pay that much if they have any bank account other than the post office (I make that assumption because everyone I know complains about the price of accessing their own money, so they're either stupid or compliant).  It boggles my mind.  It really does.  You can feasibly take cash out once every two weeks (taking too much risks robbery, too little risks bankruptcy; this being a situation begging for satire)  which means paying three quid a month.  That's thirty odd quid a year, without factoring a trip to a shopping centre (luckily large purchases can be made on a card) or unexpected expenses.  I get bills through my door every other day, so he-who-shall-not-be-named only knows how many unexpected bills a family must get.

That's a chunk of change given to a company, for the pleasure of them having all your goddamn money anyway.

Anyway.

The other thing that's annoying me right now, in this specific sliver of time, is that one of the kids in my school speaks English.  He speaks English well, having grown up in the Philippines.  He is taking daily Japanese lessons (he's only been here a while, and it turns out his Japanese isn't so hot) during what would otherwise be English lessons.  This is a great idea - he gets nothing out of English lessons (he does an amazing job of looking attentive, even when we're basically teaching the class the equivalent of I like burgers (of course it's american, so it has to be burgers) for the fiftieth time) and he needs to practice Japanese.  Now the problem is that he only gets to speak to his mum in English.  Without actually knowing the facts, I'm going to assume he speaks mainly Japanese at home (his dad is Japanese, dads are always the household leaders, and he needs to practice) which means his exposure to English is going to be, at the very best, limited.

He has another four years of this limited exposure.  While English may be one of his native languages, he will lose it.

I understand that should he stop now, he will maintain a base level that far exceeds anything I might hope to achieve with any other language, regardless of how long I study.  He will be able to speak better English in fifty years with no further practice, than I will be able to speak Japanese in fifty years if I practiced every day.

But it won't be great.

It won't be the kind of English that will land him a job.  It won't be good enough for his doors to remain open - he will have to adopt a recruitment procurement technique (shifting paradigms, business rhetoric like) akin to mugging.  Recruitment by slightly-crooked window entry.  He will have to sneak in the back door, as it were.  This, frankly, isn't good enough.

He doesn't know it now, but he will never be accepted in Japan.  He may well try his damndest to get a 'respectable,' (insofar as that means anything anymore) job in Japan, and he may well get his foot into the door.  He may rise a few ranks, get a few promotions, but his job will stagnate and he will be cast aside - regardless of how well he speaks Japanese.

But if the Japanese education system has its way, he won't have enough English to go elsewhere.  He will be, quite literally, stuck.

I find it morally ambiguous (at best) to take a bi-lingual kid and force him to become mono-lingual.  Regardless of whether there are any specific aims for 'homogenisation,' (a term they love to use in the literature here) regarding this specific child, it's cruel to take an option away from someone.  It seems almost worse than not offering that option in the first place.

The Japanese kids I teach will never be able to speak English.  The education system is laughable, the attitude here is one of indifference (again, at best) which leads to English being a comedy subject (much like R.E in England) which means that no one thinks of the significance of language.  They teach their kids to be wary of going outside of Japan, so it's a self-fulfilling circle that they are happy with.

Bringing a kid who has the potential to 'see the world,' (for whatever that means to you) into such an environment; not cool man.

Then again maybe I'm reading too much into this.  Maybe he'll get to university after four years of no English language study, join a programme that allows him to learn and spread his proverbial wings.

Maybe he won't give a crap about English (an entirely valid point of view taken by the vast majority of people, don't forget) and settle into a life of being a person sized, society based skeleton in the closet.

Who knows?

Rawr Rawr Rawr Angry and Angriness! Goddamnit Chenzi!

So I really wanted to see Chen again and spend some time with her so we planned on me dropping by New York on the way back home, it would add a few weeks to my trip, I would get to see a big American city, I'd probably have been mugged, but mugged in a big American city nonetheless, and all would be good.

But now she's decided she never wants to see me again, so I'm all kinds of angry and confused!  Goddamn women!  Such a pain in the ass!

Anyway the upshot is I didn't sleep last night, and am fricking tired right now.  I joked with one of the girls in the bar that I'd beat her to breakfast (she's the one who makes the breakfast) and it's looking awfully like I will at the moment.

Maybe I should buy the arm/pillow contraption from the department store and sleep in random places.  Then again, maybe I shouldn't...

(P.S. Women are a pain in the ass... Saying this once is not enough)