Things that New Mac Owners Should Have and or Know

Ryan and Erin just got a MacBook, so I've decided to give them a little guide on things I recommend.

There is a really handy search bar in the top-right corner of the screen. Just click on the magnifying glass and a little text box will open up and wait for your input. From this search bar, you can launch programs, search e-mails that you've downloaded in the Mail application, look up words in the dictionary

For example, if you want to launch Skype, just type "Skype" (or even just "Sk") into the box and hit enter.

If you want to look up a word, like "ridiculous", just type it in the box. You'll see a Definition option, which you can choose by hitting enter or selecting with your mouse.

Once that dictionary's up, you'll see a definition of the word, along with derivatives and the etymology of the word, if available. If you look at the top of the window, you'll see other options, including Thesaurus, Apple, and Wikipedia. The Wikipedia option allows you to load that word's Wikipedia page right in the same window, provided you're connected to the internet.

The Apple option is helpful if you need to look up Apple computer terms and features that you might be unfamiliar with, like "alias":

alias
On Macintosh computers, a small file with no content of its own that points to a document, folder, application, or device, usually in a different location. When you double-click the alias, the source item opens or starts up.

Yeah, so "shortcuts" are called "aliases" on Macs. So if you're wondering how to create a shortcut for something, look for the Make alias option when you right-click.

Your computer might have only one mouse button. How can you right-click? There are two ways with the new Macbooks. One is to hold the control key and click, and the other is to place two fingers on the trackpad and click the button. There are all sorts of cool tricks that you can do with the trackpad.

There are tons of cool free Podcasts that you can watch via iTunes. This link is to a bunch of cool video tips about all the features of your Mac. I recommend watching them all sometime.

Never pay a cent for Microsoft Word, especially since Neo Office (or any other OpenOffice-type program) does the same thing for free. One thing you might want to do after you install NeoOffice is change the saving preferences. From the NeoOffice menu (shortcut: command+comma) choose Preferences, and then click on the arrow next to Load/Save. Click on General and look at the bottom of the window, where it says Default file format. The first drop-down menu contains the different type of files, with Text document being the equivalent of a Microsoft Word file, Spreadsheet an Excel file, and so on. If you want to save in Microsoft Word format (for better compatibility with computers that aren't using NeoOffice), choose Microsoft Word 97/2000/XP from the Always save as menu. You can do the same for the other document types if you want to save in the standard Microsoft Office formats.

iPhoto interfaces with Facebook, so you can tag and upload pictures directly from the iPhoto application.

VLC is the best media player you'll ever find, and it's totally free. You can use it to play DVDs, as well as just about any kind of video file you could find online.

On Macs, when you install a program, you run a "Disk Image", which is kind of like a virtual CD. The easiest way to install most programs is to just drag the program icon from the Disk Image window to your Applications folder. Once the program's installed, you can eject the Disk Image by single clicking on it and then pressing command+E, or alternately clicking on the eject button in the finder window (the window you use to browse files on the desktop).

If you ever want to take snapshots with your built-in webcam, just load PhotoBooth.

Other cool programs and features that come with it that you should learn how to use: Spaces, the Dashboard (hit F12), iCal.

Grandpa Seegmiller

When I was a young teen, I went "hunting" with Grandpa Seegmiller, my mom's father, up at Big Rock Candy Mountain in Utah. I didn't have a hunting license, so I stayed back while he actually went out to hunt. We camped by a stream, shooting handguns and .22 caliber rifles at targets on trees. We built a fire inside a washing machine basin, which was great for keeping the fire contained but still putting out a ton of heat. It was an idea that he or one of his friends had, and he talked about mass-producing them. Grandpa sang about the Lemonade Springs and Big Rock Candy Mountain. I'll never forget Grandpa's rendition of Burl Ives' song, and I'll never forget that trip.

Monday was my monthly office day, meaning that I went in to the city office building and only had to stay for three hours. Usually, all the ALTs employed by the Imabari City Board of Education sit together in a closet small room, studying or chatting from 9 AM until noon. Sometimes the BOE guys need to use the room for a meeting, and so we have to go to the top floor (13th) of the main city office building. I generally prefer going there, since it's a lot less claustrophobic. This Monday was one of those days.

I occasionally bring my laptop with me to work to study, which is usually effective, since there is no internet connection at either of the two work spots. This week, Paul informed me that if you sit in a certain area of the 13th floor, there's an unsecured wireless network. I gave it a shot, and he was right. The connection wasn't strong enough to watch the World Series, but it was just fine for normal browsing.

Right before it was time to go home, I decided to check out Emily's blog, since I hadn't really read it for quite some time. When it loaded, I was shocked to see a post about how my Grandpa was in the hospital and might not make it through the day. I frantically checked the timestamp to see when she had posted. It was from earlier that day. The clock struck twelve and it was time to go home.

I didn't even know that my grandpa was sick. I was a bit upset that nobody had called to tell me. I pedaled my bicycle home and went to call Mom, only to find that the power source to our Vonage phone had somehow been unplugged. They couldn't have called me if they wanted to. I plugged the phone in, only to realize that the battery on the cordless receiver had died due to being unplugged. Luckily, we had an old corded phone lying around that I plugged in and used to call Mom.

Our conversation was brief. She said she had flown to see Grandpa at the hospital in Las Vegas, and that he was pretty lucid, and would like to hear from me. She mentioned that his aneurysms (which I didn't even know about) were bleeding and that he didn't have much longer, but that he was singing songs and telling stories to help ease the minds of all the visitors.

I got the number and called Grandpa. His step-son Jonathan answered the phone, telling me that the nurses had just given him some medication and that he would be asleep for another hour or so. I tried to distract myself by paying bills and doing the grocery shopping with Stef, but I was too anxious about getting to talk to Grandpa that I couldn't put it out of my mind.

When we got back home, I called Grandpa, and Jonathan again answered. He said that Grandpa was there and wanted to talk to me. Grandpa picked up the phone, and I asked him how he was feeling. He said, "I feel like I'm about to check out of this world," and the line went dead. I frantically redialed, hoping that those weren't his last words. After getting his voice mail a few times, I finally got back in touch with him. He told me that the Vonage line had acted up and started screaming like an alien at him, so he hung up the phone.

He asked me how my family was doing, and after giving him a quick summary of our happenings, I asked him a question that I knew would get him to talk. "I know you've been to Hong Kong and China, but did you say that you also came to Japan?"

He told me all about the time that he came to Japan, and how wonderful the experience was. He said that the bigwig CEO of the company he was doing business with, who drove a big American Cadillac--can you imagine that in the narrow streets out here?--took him out to dinner at a hibachi-style grill with another colleague. He ordered steak for everyone, and the cook came out with a huge slab of meat.

Unsure how he was going to eat so much meat, he breathed a sigh of relief when the cook cut the slab into three pieces. After a delicious and entertaining--"You know how those places are, throwing the knives around and everything," said Grandpa--meal, he glanced down at the bill, which was being picked up by the CEO. $100 a steak.

The CEO then asked if it was all right if they stayed in a Japanese-style inn instead of a typical "Americanized" hotel. Always seeking adventure, Grandpa gave the thumbs-up. When he got to the hotel, the hotel attendant showed him his bed--how it was "all rolled up in the closet", and how it just went straight on the floor.

His business partner later invited him to take a bath. It was a big communal hot tub with showers surrounding it. You had to sit on a little stool and wash off really well before dipping into the water that was so hot, you weren't sure if your skin would melt off or not.

After the bath, the CEO suggested he get a massage. Grandpa had traveled around Asia before, and knew that "massage basically meant a trip to the nearest whorehouse." He politely declined the offer, prompting his associate to explain that massages in Japan weren't like Hong Kong massages. They were real massages. "A 55 or 60 year-old woman then came out and proceeded to beat the crap out of me," explained Grandpa. "But, I'll tell you what. My back didn't hurt at all afterward."

The next morning, when the CEO asked what he wanted for breakfast, he requested "whatever people normally eat in Japan." He was treated to a "feast" of rice and these super-salty little fish that looked like bullheads that he used to catch as a kid.

It didn't matter to me that many of the things he told me were normal parts of Japanese life that I've experienced countless times--it was just great to hear Grandpa talk so fondly of his experiences. He was always a master storyteller. At one point during the story, he asked if he'd already told me this before. He hadn't, but even if he had, I would've wanted to listen anyway.

The talk got a bit more serious as he mentioned that he felt so fortunate to know how and when he was going to die. It gave him the opportunity to say goodbye to all the people he loved. He gushed about how much everybody meant to him, and how blessed he felt to talk to all his kids, including everyone from my family. He got a kick out of talking to Matt, who he said he didn't often get a chance to talk to.

He told me that he loved me and was proud of me for the choices I've made--for going on a mission, marrying a great woman, and learning all the languages. He said he'd always remember me saying that it was a family tradition for him to cook bacon and pancakes when he stayed at our house.

He was proud of my family and the adventures I've had, and again encouraged me to write a book. He himself was writing a book about all his different careers and experiences. For those who don't know, he was heavily involved in the invention and production of compact discs, and was involved in many different cutting edge business ventures.

He didn't think he'd last more than a day. If he did hang on, he said, he'd get a computer in the hospital room and type as much as he could, since he had only written up to 1960 or so, and that's when things started to get good.

He again said that he loved me and that it was great to get to talk to me again. When we said goodbye, we both knew that it would be the last time.

Monday night, after I had fallen asleep, I awoke to the sound of our phone ringing. Stef was more alert than I was and went and answered. When she came back, she said that Grandpa had passed away and that Mom wanted to talk. When uncle West went to visit him, he perked up a bit, after which he went into a violent sounding sleep from which he never woke. Mom and I talked for a few minutes, laughing about some of the stories that Grandpa told me.

I could tell that getting to talk to Grandpa before he left was helping my mom and her siblings cope. I know it did for me. When my dad's parents died, it all came so suddenly, and I never had a chance to say goodbye. I felt extremely blessed that the day he went happened to be my half day. I'm grateful that I stumbled upon Emily's blog post which clued me in to his condition. I feel so blessed to have gotten the chance to say goodbye to Grandpa Seegmiller.

He got to go out mostly on his own terms. Apparently he had known about his aneurysms for a while. He was on his way back from a hunting trip in Idaho with Clark when things started to get bad. His wife didn't want him to go on the trip at all because she was afraid that it would kill him. He responded that he didn't want to die at home. He got to go horseback riding one last time and watch Clark bring back a buck. It was the perfect way to go.

Grandpa was a trailblazing cowboy in a time of mechanized industry. His body is set to be buried at the same cemetery where my father's parents are enterred. His body may soon lie there, but his spirit is now blazing trails in that Big Rock Candy Mountain in the sky. I love you and miss you, Grandpa.

Things People Have Actually Said Recently

These are things that people I know have said recently:

Kelsey (having heard this in one of her movies):I have my own life now, Dad!

If she's already saying this stuff when she's 2, I don't even want to know what the teens have in store.

Kelsey: Look! I have a spider on my hand!

She did.

One of the English teachers, explaining to students why candy corn (corn is pronounced ko-n, like the word "cone", in Japanese) is called what it is: See, it's shaped just like a cone, so that's why it's called "candy cone".

I tried to explain that it's actually "corn", but she couldn't perceive the difference between what I said ("corn"), and what she thinks it's called ("cone").

Another teacher, while walking with me to class: This lesson isn't the best lesson ever, but it's good because it allows the retarded people in class to participate.

There aren't any disabled people in the class. Perhaps she meant "underachievers".

Ryan and Erin Come to Japan

Ryan and Erin recently came to Japan for a week and a half. It's time for me to give an update on how all that went.

We all went to pick them up at Kansai International Airport in Osaka on September 29th. While we were waiting for them to come out with their luggage, a lady that looked Mediterranean walked by. I commented that I thought she might be from Italy. She walked by us and said something in English, and I asked her where she was from. From Lebanon, she married a man from Japan and came to live here. They communicate in English. We had a rather long conversation about how Christian values are eroding around the world, and she urged me to teach them in my lessons (that'd result in an instant firing, according to my contract).

Ryan had had knee surgery a few weeks before coming, and so we waited for him to crutch out with Erin, or possibly come out in a wheelchair. When they finally came out the doors, it was Erin that was riding in a wheelchair. She had a really rough flight, being motion sick for a good part of the trip. Ryan, who had been dreading the flight since he got sick on the flight back from Hawaii a few years ago, didn't get sick at all.

We took the luggage over to the delivery counter and shipped a couple bags so that we only had to carry one around with us. Then we got on a train bound for the part of town where our hotel was located, and went back there to rest for the night. Ryan and Erin had been awake for quite some time, so Stef suggested they go back and go to bed.

We were all hungry, so we first went to get some food at a little restaurant in Osaka. It wasn't the best food I've ever had, and it truthfully wasn't that much different from what we could have gotten at a convenience store. But it didn't matter, since it was so cool to be hanging out with Ryan and Erin again. Ryan and I wanted time to talk, so we went back to the hotel and soaked in the communal bath.

I knew that no matter what time they went to bed, they'd be waking up early in the morning. So I was fine with them going to sleep a bit early. I think they woke up at around 2AM and couldn't go back to sleep after that. At around 6:30 in the morning, we all went to a nearby convenience store to get some food for breakfast. We came back to the hotel and ate it in the hall. We were so excited to talk and hang out that we forgot that it was 7AM and that we might wake people up. A lady from Eastern Europe with pink hair and nothing but a long shirt to cover her unsightly body came out and gave us the death stare. When we realized that we had woken her up, we apologized for being loud, to which she replied, "Yeah, you were like, 'Blah, blah blah,'" in a thick, Russian-sounding accent. Yeah, it was pretty much awesome. We realized that we were loud and obnoxious, but getting to hear her comment was worth waking her up.

We had wanted to go to the Osaka castle that morning, but with so much traveling planned for the next few days, we decided to forgo the castle altogether and hop on a train to Hiroshima while it was still early. When we got to the Hiroshima train station, we bought some yummy little bean-filled hot griddle cakes and hopped on a tram to the A-bomb dome.

The dome consists of the skeletal remnants of the city office building that stood after the atomic bomb decimated the city. It was very sobering to think of the death and destruction that was caused by blast. They've kept the structure standing as a testament to the destruction, in hopes that it will deter any future use of such weapons elsewhere in the world.

After that, we walked to an okonomiyaki shop to eat lunch. They liked it, but I sensed that Ryan liked it more than Erin did. He washed his food down with an alcohol free beer, which was absolutely disgusting.

We then walked over to the Peace Memorial Park, an exhibit with all sorts of photographs, from bomb victims to the aftermath at ground zero. I was worried about things that Kelsey might see that could upset her, so I kept her close as we walked through the museum. I didn't want her to see graphic images of melted flesh, so I picked her up and whisked her past the disturbing sections. Young minds are so tender, and I would hate to see her react to that stuff.

One time, while at an electronics store, we let her watch the huge TVs while I helped another ALT get set up for internet service. Stef looked over and saw Kelsey sobbing, having just watched a grotesque cartoon preview where they showed a vampire devouring another person. Kelsey was inconsolable for a while. She wouldn't let Stef calm her down. I know you can't protect your children from everything forever, but I still think it's important as a parent to help kids retain their innocence.

After seeing the bomb exhibits in Hiroshima, we went back to the station and boarded a train bound for Mihara, where we planned to get on a boat en route to our next destination. We had to hurry, because we weren't sure if we'd make it in time to Ikina, where we planned to stay the night. In Mihara, we walked up to a taxi and asked the driver to take us to the harbor. He told us that it wasn't too far away, and that we should walk, not paying attention to the fact that we had two children, luggage, and a cripple on crutches. He shrugged his shoulders and drove us a whole three blocks to the harbor. We had just enough time to purchase tickets and make it onto the boat headed for Habu.

Ryan and I hung out in the very back of the boat with Kelsey while Erin and Stef chatted during the half-hour boat ride. We got to Habu with enough time to run to the ramen shop where we had hoped to eat. It was closed. We walked around the corner to a Chinese restaurant, where we had just enough time to shovel down some food before making a run for our next boat. I asked the lady at the Habu port if there was still a boat that headed to the south-most port on Ikina, and she said no, and that we'd have to go to the other port if we wanted to get to Ikina at all. She seemed very put off that I was even bothering to ask her a question. We hopped on the Ikina ferry and went across the straight--a two minute ride. When we got there, I saw the boat that we had wanted to take pull up to the port that we had just left. I was livid. The lady who had rudely disregarded me as a customer had given me bad information. That boat sped off to the port in front of Laura's house.

Ryan was on crutches, so there was no way we could make the walk to Laura's house. Without kids, it would take an adult walking at a brisk pace about 20 minutes to get there. With the kids and the crutches, it was just not doable. We called Laura and informed her of our misfortune, and she made a few phone calls. Her flower arranging teacher came to pick us up. While waiting for them to come, Kelsey, Stef, and Erin walked over to the source of some loud banging. Some kids were practicing with taiko drums for their Fall Festival. They let Kelsey play around with the drums.

We went back to Laura's house and hung out with her for a while, chatting in her living room. I set up her wireless internet for her so that Ryan and Erin could Skype with their daughter, Sadie. We all took turns bathing and then went to bed.

Laura made some corn bread for us the next morning, and we ate it with huckleberry jam. We got up in the morning and took a boat to Yuge to wait for the boat headed to Uoshima. We had some time to kill, so we grabbed some snacks at the convenience store on Yuge and sat around talking. It was raining, so we couldn't do much but wait for our boat. We tried to play a word game, but Ryan and Erin had differing opinions on how we should play, so Erin went inside the waiting room at the port and played with Stef. Ryan and I played our own version of the game until Kelsey decided that she'd had enough sitting. She got angry and started saying "No!" to everything we said to her, so we turned it into our own little word game.

Us: Place like home?
Kelsey: NO place like home!
Us: Bell prize?
Kelsey: NO bell prize!
Us: Where man?
Kelsey: NO where man!
Us: Torious?
Kelsey: NO torius!
...

This went on for a while, until she was saying things that sounded suspiciously similar to things she probably shouldn't say.

So much for helping my children retain their innocence.

The Uoshima boat finally came, and we got on and headed out to Fish Island. Ryan and I went up top and enjoyed the air, positioning ourselves by an overhang so that the rain didn't hit us. When we got to the island, the Azumas were waiting for us with a sign that read, "Mr. Stout Family, Welcome to Uoshima!" The sign was intended for Ryan and Erin, but the Azumas didn't know that Ryan was Stef's brother, not my own.

We walked up to the Azumas' old Japanese home, on the side of a hill towards the top part of town. They had prepared a delicious feast for us made up of all sorts of wonderful sashimi and breaded fish. The italian-style octopus sashimi was surprisingly awesome.

That afternoon, we just hung out at the Azuma home while Mr. Azuma taught us how to play Hanafuda, a Japanese card game. He also showed us how to play Go, the game with white and black stones that's said to be a lot more complicated strategically than even Chess. That may have been the highlight of the whole trip. A former teacher, Mr. Azuma was very methodical in showing us how to play. He gave us opportunities to show our understanding. It was clear that he's a good teacher.

That night, we went up to the shrine for a karaoke festival, as well as the start of the Fall Festival in Uoshima. We watched my old band, Uoshima'X, as they played a couple new songs with their new singer, Amado. He's the new ALT on Uoshima. There were a few traditional Japanese dances, as well as the taiko drum-accompanied chants by the robed Shinto priests of Uoshima. I'm glad that Ryan and Erin got to see all that.

I was really tired that night, and a bit grumpy. People kept speaking to me in broken English, not knowing that I speak Japanese. I think they just assumed that I never learned, since I didn't really go out of my way to speak to them when I lived there. At one point, Amado, just trying to help (and likely unaware of my speaking abilities), acted as a translator, which really upset me. I didn't need a translator. They could've just spoken to me in Japanese, and I could've replied in perfectly natural Japanese. The fact that Amado has time to hang out with the band members and learn the Japanese songs made things worse. Having a family really changes everything. I just never had time for any of that stuff. I was a bit bitter that I didn't get to experience a lot of the things that I could have.

Of course, I wouldn't trade what I have for anything. I'm much happier than I would be if I were single. But I still wish I could somehow have some of the same opportunities without having to sacrifice time with the family. There's just not enough time in the day for everything, and I'm going to choose my family every time.

The next morning, Erin and Stef went up to watch the carrying of the portable mikoshi shrine, while Ryan and I chatted down by the docks. We walked up to our old house and waited for the portable shrine to come around. When they got there, we had some melon soda and some fried food on a stick. Someone randomly asked Erin to sing for everybody, and others started egging her on. Ryan and I suggested she sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider with hand motions, but she was too nervous. So we sang it together. When they asked for an encore, we sang Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree, complete with all the gestures. It was both surreal and awesome at the same time.

When we left the island later that day, the Azumas saw us off and stood at the dock waving until the boat was out of sight. I'm really glad that they got to see Uoshima. I really miss that place. Don't get me wrong--I love living in Imabari. I mean, there's a store in Imabari. But I still miss the people, the beauty, and the quiet of Uoshima.

For the rest of the trip, we relaxed. It was a bit difficult for Ryan to get around, since we couldn't use bikes. So we spent most of our time in the neighborhood near our home. And that was just fine by me. We went to a nearby park that has lots of koi and turtles, as well as some awesome roller-slides. They got to try tonkotsu ramen, a really tasty pig-based soup that's really popular, and also go to a kaiten-zushi, the conveyor belt-style sushi restaurant. We also dropped in to Hard Off, a recycle shop that sells all sorts off cool second-hand gadgets and gizmos. Ryan and Erin bought about 20 thingamabobs to take back to the 'States. I'm going to really miss Hard Off when we're back in America.

Hanging out with Ryan and Erin, eating noodles, riding trains, playing Peggle, gettin' nude with a dude--their visit is, so far, the highlight of our Japan experience (when it comes to things that are fun and not, say, terrifying). Finally, here are some pictures for all to enjoy.

Why the JLPT is Hard

I know I've been lazy about updating this blog, but I have a good excuse. At the end of September, Stef's brother Ryan and his wife Erin came to Japan to visit us. Knowing that I'd never study while they were here, I pushed extra hard in my preparation for the Japanese Language Proficiency Test, which I am going to take in a little over a month. I wouldn't even have taken the time to blog, were it not for a recent revelation I had: I'm going to absolutely bomb the JLPT.

This isn't such a bad thing. While my grammar and listening abilities are pretty strong, my reading and writing are still coming along slowly.

In order to understand my struggles in learning how to read and write, I need to explain a few things first. Japanese is made up of three different types of writing systems: kanji, hiragana, and katakana. The three systems are used together, and it's extremely common to see sentences that use all three. Kanji is the group of characters originally borrowed from Chinese, which usually represent abstract ideas like "movement" and "feeling", or more concrete things like "tree" and "wheel". When you see a complex group of chicken scratch and squiggles, you're likely looking at Kanji. The following characters are kanji:



Hiragana is a syllabary, which is like an alphabet except that it represents sounds. In English, the letter g, for example, can be pronounced a few different ways, as evidence by these words:

• Dog


• Gerbil


• Tough


• Drought

In Japanese, like Spanish, the letters you write are always pronounced the same. The Hiragana syllabary is made up of vowel sounds and consonant-vowel combinations (with one exception, n, which is its own syllable). The vowel sounds, pronounced very similar to those in Spanish, are a, i, u, e, and o. The other "letters" in the hiragana alphabet are made up of a consonant with those same vowels, as in ka/ki/ku/ke/ko, ma/mi/mu/me/mo, na/ni/nu/ne/no, and so on. The symbols in hiragana are much more simple than most kanji, and they're typically very curvy and loopy:



Hiragana is used for grammatical function words like the Japanese equivalents of to, from, and, and is. Many normal words (like verbs) are written partly in kanji, with the last bit in hiragana. In English, a verb like shuffle can be turned into a past tense verb by adding the letter d to the end, making shuffled. Many other tenses are possible in English, like shuffling, shuffles, and shuffler. In Japanese, the functional pieces of words are written in hiragana. Sometimes kanji characters are uncommon or extremely difficult to write, in which case they can be written out in hiragana. Understanding hiragana is essential.

Katakana is the other syllabary in Japanese, used for words borrowed from other languages and foreign names. It's basically the same as hiragana, in that it is made up of consonant-vowel groupings (ma/mi/mu/me/mo) and the vowels. Katakana characters are typically more angular than their hiragana counterparts:



Like I said before, it's common for a sentence to use all three writing systems, as in this example:



The blue characters spell the name "Mark", so they're written in katakana. The pinkish words are hiragana, and mainly serve grammatical purposes. The black characters are kanji. The sentence reads: Mark is a naughty boy.

Now, on to what I really want to say. Hiragana and Katakana are pretty easy to remember once you've learned them. The main difficulty in learning how to read Japanese is the massive amount of readings that have to be learned. For example, the character "行" means both to go and to do, among other things. The Japanese romanization can either be i or okona (among many other readings, actually), depending on which of the meanings you're using.

For example, if it appears as "行く", it's iku. "行う" is pronounced okonau. The second characters in the two sets are hiragana characters, pronounced ku and u, respectively. However, when paired with another kanji character, "行" is pronounced kou. Kou is the reading originally associated with the Chinese character. There are often multiple ways to say the same thing, with differing levels of formal-ness. Erabu, which uses the Japanese reading, means to choose, and uses only one kanji. Sentaku suru, which is a compound of two kanji characters, also means to choose or make a choice, and even uses the same kanji as erabu for its first character. The second one, however, sounds a bit more stiff, and would be used in more formal settings. In order to pass JLPT, I'll need to study thousands of words that I already know how to say in a simpler way.

See, the JLPT has four levels, the easiest being level 4. Level 1 is nearly impossible to pass if you aren't Chinese or Korean, since it requires knowledge of multiple readings of at least 2000 kanji characters. I'd need a bit more time than what I have to pass level 1. Level 2 is a beast in its own right, but you only need to know the readings of around 1000 kanji. I've been studying like mad, to the point where I remember the meanings of about 900 kanji characters. Unfortunately, most of those characters have two or more different readings, and I've only studied one of them.

In preparation for the test, I've looked at some practice tests online, as well as example sentences. I can generally read the reading comprehension paragraphs just fine, and can even answer the questions with a passing score. The listening portion shouldn't be impossible, either, since I have a pretty good ear and a solid grasp of Japanese grammar. The portion of the test that will absolutely kill me is the part where I have to identify the hiragana spellings of kanji compound words. It's basically impossible for me at this point to keep all the sounds sorted in my mind. I just need more time to study and learn the readings.

Even though I'm positive that I'm going to be completely destroyed by this test (which I've already paid for), I'm not discouraged. I took the practice tests for the Level 3 test, which itself requires a pretty deep understanding of Japanese--and they were a piece of cake. I could've signed up for the level 3 test, but that ultimately would've been a waste of money, since my goal is to reach level 2 by the time I leave. Also, I wouldn't have needed to push myself so hard to study for the test. Instead, I'll continue to prepare myself for the level 2 test, knowing I'll be better off when I take it again next year, since I got off to a good head start.

I'll continue to study hard, but now that I know I'm going to fail, I can take a few moments here and there to keep everybody informed through this blog. Next time, I'll write a bit about Ryan and Erin's visit.

Health Checks in Japan

Each year in Japan, employees have a mandatory health check. Last week, I had mine for the first time. I'd heard horror stories about people having to do strange things like stand naked in line with coworkers of the same sex or drink barium sulfate before being spun around on a Gravitron-esque x-ray machine. Aside from some crazy procedures for waste samples, I'm relieved to say that I didn't experience too much weirdness.

When my supervisor walked all of us through the initial paperwork, I was surprised to hear some invasive medical health questions that seemed irrelevant. Why do they need to know if I've ever (like, ever, once in my life, even in years past) had a hemorrhoid? How could that possibly help them to understand anything about my current physical condition?

As uncomfortable as it was for me to hear these questions from my supervisor, it must've really sucked to be him and have to explain everything. And it must really suck to be anybody who reads the rest of this blog entry.

Along with the medical history paperwork, we each received our own do-it-yourself stool and urine sample kit, complete with instructions--one page of which doubles as a stool catcher. These instructions are very specific and provide clear directions on how and where to go. Here's a scan of the aforementioned stool catcher.



The writing in the box, "この面を上にしてお使いください" basically says, "Please go on top of this side of the page." The placement of the paper depends on whether you are using a western-style toilet or a Japanese-style squatter. That little guy--we'll call him Poo-san--is actually the bull's eye of a target.

I don't know what's worse: the fact that Poo-san is blissfully standing and waving at me, or the fact that he's green. This color is not only unnatural, but it was also confusing to me when it came time to sort everything out.

Once you have some data to work with (read: poop), you can consult the following guide, entitled The Correct Way to Collect a Stool, for proper technique on obtaining an effective sample.



I'll defer to the diagram if you need to know the next few steps. You'd think it's bad enough that they make you collect your own samples at home. But they make you do it twice, including once on the day before your health check. So you have to have a sample sitting around the house for at least 24 hours. Not that we don't already have plenty of "data" in the diaper bins already.

The "sample" in section 2 is yellow and orange, which is in stark contrast to the viridescence of Poo-san. Ms. Poo, our little "correct answer" sign-holding friend in the bottom-left corner, is pink. I've heard that people who have to drink the barium sulfate solution have stools as white as the driven snow for up to three days. In a land of blue hair (you gotta have blue hair), I shouldn't be surprised at such a wide spectrum of poo hues.

How'd you like to be the person whose job it is to prepare 'how to poo' diagrams? I like to imagine a chipper Japanese woman in her forties presenting the new poo sheet design in PowerPoint to a room full of hardened, middle-aged salarymen, all nodding seriously.

I have a pretty weak stomach, which can be difficult in a land of people seemingly immune to the poop-induced gag reflex. For some reason, they embrace poop out here (well, not literally--though you never, never know). When your kids have soiled diapers in Japan, you have to physically take the poop out and wash it down the toilet before throwing the diaper out with the burnable trash. Popular Japanese video games like Blue Dragon feature characters made of poo, like the Poo Snake.



Online stores in Japan sell a wide range of poo-themed products, like these fashionable hair pins at a Yahoo! shopping store.



You may not know it, but the children's book Everyone Poops is actually a translation of a Japanese book called Minna Unchi.

My supervisor explained that the stool samples, once collected from the green Poo-san paper and labeled, are placed in a green plastic bag and again labeled. That bag goes inside a green paper envelope with my name and info printed on the outside. Upon hearing our displeasure about having to collect our own samples, our supervisor inquired incredulously, "You mean you don't have to poo on a stick every year as part of your job in America?"

For the urine sample, there's a sheet of paper with instructions on how to fold it into a cup to be used for catching the sample.



Origami is fun! Hooray for health checks! The origami cup comes with a little squeeze bottle like the ones they use for soy sauce in bento lunches. I should start a lucrative urine sample/soy sauce bottle recycling business. Once you've got the sample, you label it and put in in a yellow envelope with your pre-printed info.

Yellow goes with yellow and green (or pink/brown/white/yellow/orange, if you want to get technical) goes with green. Sounds logical, right? Well, it's not. My supervisor was wrong about the colors. When I went to get my health check, the people at the reception desk took everything out and switched it around. The urine goes in the green paper envelope, and the stool samples go inside the yellow one. It makes perfect sense. They placed my samples in a huge plastic bag with hundreds of other envelopes. There's something about a whole bunch of people walking around with their own feces that makes my stomach churn.

The rest of the check-up was your standard, wait-in-line stuff. Being my first time, I didn't really know what each procedure entailed. There weren't any signs or arrows guiding us through the building; we were supposed to already know where to go next. If I had done this multiple times already, I'm sure it would've seemed less confusing.

We all went from station to station, shifting over one chair at a time while we waited for vacancies in each test booth. They tested my vision and hearing first. Everything was fine, except for when I stared into some weird eye machine, not knowing what to expect. I asked the doctor what I was supposed to be doing inside the hooded enclosure, and he just told me to be patient since it was all going to be over soon. Out of nowhere, a bright light flashed and my eyes went crazy. I think I may have killed a man in the ensuing daze. Or maybe I just couldn't see straight for a bit. It was one of those two things.

They measured my height and weight, and then calculated my BMI score. I got a chest x-ray, had some blood drawn, had my waist measured, got my heart and lungs checked out with a stethoscope, and even got some weird electrodes stuck to my chest for some sort of heart reading.

I heard a story of one foreign teacher who was so hairy that they couldn't get the electrodes to stick. They had no idea what to do with body hair and ended up forgoing the test altogether. Luckily, my chest is more badlands than jungle--so I had nothing to worry about.

All in all, the procedures weren't so bad. It's probably good for people to have regular health checks. But I definitely could've gone without the "data" extraction procedure.

JLPT Application

Today was not good for my confidence.

I'm studying for the Japanese Language Proficiency Test, which I'm hoping to take in December. In order to take the test, you have to purchase an application form that's only sold at specific bookstores, the closest of which is found in Matsuyama. After my language course, I tried to go to the book store to buy it, but they said that they didn't offer them there.

A couple days later, I called the store to confirm that they didn't offer them, and they said that they planned on getting their shipment during the first part of September. When I called back today, I couldn't even communicate with the employee on the phone.

First, I asked if they had received their shipment. The lady put me on hold, and when she came back to the line, asked me if I reserved one. I told her I hadn't done anything yet, since the store clerk I had asked in person said they weren't even offered there. I told her I wanted to apply, but I just wanted to know if they had received their shipment.

She put me on hold again. When she came back the second time, she asked for my name and phone number. When I gave them to her, she put me on hold again briefly, and then came back to tell me that she couldn't find my name. She asked if I had registered with them, to which I again replied that I had not yet done anything at all, and that I was calling right then to ask if they had the application forms so that I didn't make an expensive trip to Matsuyama for no reason. When she seemed confused at my request, I dejectedly hung up the phone.

Why I couldn't get a yes-or-no answer is beyond me. It's possible that I didn't say things as succinctly as I should have.

But, lest I let my frustration with Japanese communication consume me, I just now called another bookstore in Matsuyama that supposedly offers the applications, and found out that they expect them to arrive in two or three days. He took down my name and number and promised to call me when they came in. It was an effortless conversation, and everybody was happy.

With the second guy, I gave minimal information and let him fill in the blanks. Sometimes I forget that this is the preferred method of communication in Japan. When I give unnecessary information like "I came in the other day to ask about the applications, but they weren't in stock," people don't really know how to respond. While I think I'm showing off my ability to speak Japanese when I give wordy answers, it actually goes a lot farther to prove that I don't know how to communicate in a Japanese way.