Expatriate games.

Right... so I just attended my 20-year high school reunion.  It was a real gas to see a bunch of people I haven't seen in almost that long.  I was happy I could see some particular people I've only corresponded with on the Facebutts for the last decade.

But back to the reunion: I had such a grand time gabbing with old friends.  I'm finding more and more, however, that when I go back to the United States there is a growing disconnect.  For example, I was the only one at the reunion wearing a coat and tie.  I was the only one with 扇子 (a folding hand fan).  I was, perhaps, the only one not drinking any alcohol (which, whether they knew it or not, was for the good of all).  I'm pretty sure I was the only one who would have preferred chopsticks for his salad.  I was definitely the only one unintentionally using Japanese paralinguistic responses in conversation.  間違いない。

The school where I work has a large number of returnees: students who have lived abroad (particularly in Anglophone countries) for four years or more.  Some of them have a great deal of trouble adjusting (or readjusting) to their new (or old) environment.  They are fish who grew accustomed to being out of water only to be tossed back in it.  It seems to be quite traumatic emotionally.

I can empathize somewhat.  I was always an outsider in school for a variety of reasons.  But now, as a white foreigner living in Japan, I am the dictionary definition of an outsider.  What's more, every time I come back to  America, I find I am more of an outsider there.  Don't misunderstand me: I love where I live.  It is my home now.  But it is not my homeland.  And now my homeland is no longer my home.

I don't really belong anywhere anymore.

Summery executions.

The weather has been particularly toasty the last few days.  Or weeks.  Don't rightly recall.  June is always a blur.  It gets under my skin.  There are no public holidays in June, so it seems like it goes on forever.  I'm not even that busy compared to some of my colleagues.
Some folk in Japan have a habit of sending midsummer greeting cards (暑中お見舞い申し上げます).  The purpose is to inquire after the health of one's friends and family in the heat.  Or, as I might phrase it: "Christ on a bike, it's hot!! is your ass even still alive!?"  That doesn't look as nice on a card, though.  Nor does it translate well.

I generally don't allow myself to complain about the temperature.  It's not something I can control (except to a limited extent indoors).  Mind you, I complain about plenty of other things I can't control: hiccups, for example.  Hiccups drive me utterly mad.  Utterly.
So speaking of the weather and going mad, I think the heat really is doing my head in.  Despite the fact that I try not to complain about it, it still has an effect upon my state of mind.  Patience is a rarified commodity.  I find myself saying stupid, irritable shit to people whilst going about my business.  Spending time getting lost in regret and angst.  That's not something I expected to be feeling at 38.  Angst, that is.  Regret is an unavoidable by-product of continued existence.  I'm sure the regret will continue to accumulate.  It beats the alternative, I suppose.  But angst?  Absurd.  Don't I have everything I need?  What more do I want?

Bah.  In any event, looking forward to upcoming vacation.  I love where I live.  But I love where I'm from, too.  Don't get to see that nearly as often.  Plus the temperature is generally more... agreeable.
「熱核の…くそ奴…」("You thermonuclear... bastard...")

Do you play doctor?

So, for normal medical care, most folk here go to their friendly, neighborhood clinic.  I have a fairly good one just down the street.  I think the longest I've ever had to wait on a walk-in is thirty minutes. The clinics all offer general practitioner services.  But many of them also have particular specialties (depending upon the primary field of whomever the clinic was founded by).

So I chose the clinic I go to because of their proximity to my apartment.  As I said, I'm quite pleased with their services.  After I had been going there about a year, I happened to be reading their sign more closely while waiting for an appointment.  They have two specialties.  One is 皮膚科 (dermatology).  That much I had gleaned from reading the clinic website before my first visit.  However, their secondary specialties are 性病 (STDs) and 勃起障害 (erectile dysfunction).

I find I can no longer look at the other patients in the waiting room quite the same way.  Are they there for a rash?  Or a rash?  Do they need some Preparation H, or some Preparation エッチ?  I also feel compelled to announce my mundane medical problem a little more loudly than is strictly necessary.

「インフルの注射だよ。」("It's a flu shot!")

These are radish people.

I've always been a doodler.  I can't say I'm a particularly gifted artist in the grand scheme of things.  I can't sketch things in photographic detail.  I can't really move paint or pixels around in a manner that elicits a great emotional reaction.  However, what I can do is get a point across with simple pictures.  And I can do it fairly quickly.

Teaching English as a second language for the last half-decade has brought this skill back to the forefront of my life.  I use it constantly in classes to, as I mentioned, get the point across.  Sometimes I feel like my job is like a giant game of Pictionary.  I certainly enjoy it.  I've become notorious for my illustrations among my friends, colleagues, and students.

For many years, I mostly accomplished these tasks through "stick-figure theatre".  However, after working in Japanese elementary schools, I became enamored with the rather endearing style of comic figures that many of the children liked to draw.  This style of cute, pudgy "stick figure" is referred to in Japanese as 大根人間: literally "radish people".  They do look like daikon radishes come to life.  I began to emulate their drawing, and now I can't really draw anything else.  I just love the little things.

In any event, this blog will serve as an outlet for various silly illustrations that are, perhaps, not suitable for my students.  So if you like profanity and cute doodles, have I got a blog for you!