Go, go Lucky! Go!

(large img)I wasn't a fan of American baseball after the first big strike but when I first arrived in Japan I was in awe of the sacred aspect of Japanese baseball. Supporting a ball team here is literally like invoking the gods to bring good harvests and keeping bad weather away. Baseball is not the capitalist industry it is in the US though you can't deny it is a huge money generating engine here in Japan.

However, baseball is a fan driven sport and there is no fan in Japan like the Hanshin Tigers fan. All of Japan makes fun of the Tigers fans. This is a country that will observe a moment of silence when a legendary ball player plays his last at bat. In Koshien Stadium, the riot police were overwelmed when a foreigner ran his last around the bases. It was not so long ago that the district required the stadium ticket offices hold stands at opposite sides of the general ticket sales. There were always riots. There used to be game delays because of fights in the bleachers during the fifteen year period when the Tigers were the last rated team in the Central League. Oh, and for those who don't know, Tigers Stadium is the only stadium to have the highest occupancy of any stadium in any league. Ever. Since 1935.

So I was invited to a monumental occaison, a Tigers match against the top ranking Giants. The Giants have been the most popular team in the Japan for, like, forever. And here I was with the lowest ranking team in the league with the highest ranking team in terns of popularity. To make a long story short, watching a Tigers game is like watching a car wreck. When the Tigers win, its always a physical feat; when the Giants make a play, its about organization and sportsmanship.

This year, the Tigers are ranked #1. They just are because they have won the most games. All of of them by accident, it appears. All of the wins are close calls or made on errors or lucky linedrives with a man on third.

Around the 7th inning at Koshien Stadium, an interesting event occurs. Everyone blows up a balloon that looks just like a condom. When it is fully expanded, it looks like a penis. I am not making this up. In fact, at an appointed time the balloons are released and look uncannily like sperm. You don't believe me. Exhibit A:

While the fans wear their funny (or sometimes sexy) costumes, get loud in a way that would make the Italians proud during a football match, and drink until dawn on a work day when the team loses, the Hanshin Tigers are a very atypical type of Japanese you don't see on TV. They show that there is a passion here in this country which breaks from the reserved and phoney exterior the mainstream demands. You get to see real people cheer real champions who make next to nothing compared to their Western counterparts. This is a sport when it was at its greatest and its fans at its most personal...in a land where the status quo, wa, is the ideal.

I sure hope the Tigers win this year because if they don't, the entire region is going to sink into depression until Spring next year.

Gackt

While every nation has its pop icons, Japan is no exception. Frequently bordering on the bizarre to the kitsch, Japan has produced individuals both real and 2D who represent the trends in pop culture. But there is one person who has successfully blurred the lines between what is real, what is illusion and what is style.

Camui Gackt claims to be a 400 year old Frenchman who makes his home in a castle in Kyoto. The truth is, no one really knows how old Gackt is but what they do know is he is an enigma which has generated a massive cult following, earning him practically an industry unto himself. Gackt is involved in music, movies, anime and even videogames and is personally vested in each of these media.

The facts as they are known: Gackt is an enormously popular J-rock musician who can play six musical instruments, mix his own albums and is responsible for the PR behind his work. He speaks four foreign languages including English. He says he is blue eyed but wears colored contact lenses with a special polarized tint because he is sensitive to light. He is emphatic he is not gay but his stage acts and his personal associations with the likes of Hide and Yuma bely a heavily homosexual inclination. This only fans the yaoi flames. I said flame. That was funny.

Anyway. On one level, Gackt is the master of self-promotion. He involves himself in a variety of projects, much like product placement when you think about it. But the man himself doesn't say much. And when he does talk, its often contradictory and colorful. Soft spoken, given to monosyllabic utterances in a bass monotone, he will grudgingly give up answers to interview questions, like "I like the taste of the sea." The question, dude, was "what was it like working with Yuma and can you elaborate on the rumors of a relationship?" In the middle of a quiz show, Gackt stepped off the podium and lay down on the center of the stage for no apparent reason. After a few moments, he quickly sat up and returned to his place. He refused to comment when pestered by the game show host. Regardless of his odd antics, he is a beautiful male specimen with gargantuan intelligence. I'm soft spoken and say odd shit sometimes but so far I got nothing on this guy.

Whoever Gackt is, he represents an ideal that many Japanese feel is impossible: independent, individualistic and capable of mastering his own destiny (even if it is a fake one created by his own rich imagination). He is also incredibly good at what he does, be it music or film. You have not truly experienced the weird side of Japanese innovation until you have seen this guy at work.

Frankie Goes To Hollywood

A new "relaxation" center has opened in Ikebukuro (Tokyo), the newest offering in an explosion of massage centers in shopping malls and shopping arcades all over Japan. I found this latest bit in the Daily Mainichi, Japan's version of People: New relaxation center opens in Ikebukuro.


In this article we learn that Riraku no Mori will offer several different relaxation treatments for a culture that promotes putting the group before yourself. I read a lot about Japanese sararimen working themselves into exhaustion. But I also read (and see) just as frequently, these same individuals partying it up late on a Monday night and frequently partaking of hair of the dog on the way to work. I see armies of teens and 20somethings lounging around parks and arcades, looking really bored, looking aimless, looking like they just can't wait to hit their thirties and real responsibility. I'm guessing here.


Don't get me wrong. I think having these Thai and Western massage booths is a great idea. Its very practical from a consumer perspective and its also exploiting another business opportunity. Any way to make a buck while also helping others gets a gold star in my book. But its also slightly redundant.

I follow the dictum: if it aint broke, don't fix it. See the picture at the start of this post? Lawnchairs, EZchairs, ComfyCouches, there is a reason they were developed and why people still use them. Aint broke. Moderate consumption of low grade alcoholic beverages for citizens of legal age. Beer. The nectar of The God Of Summer Days and BBQs. That also--aint broke. Now if you put the two together, hold on to your seats, put your ass in the LazyBoy and the beer in your hand and, wow, the magic just manifests itself. That feeling you get? In America, we call it "relaxed." Put aint broke together with aint broke and you get aint broke.

So for the Japanese, having the massage booths is a nifty idea to serve a very specific purpose: feel good during a shopping spree. But for most, the "riraku" (relax, if you didn't figure it out already) model is already there. Don't go out. Don't go shopping. Stay home, turn on the TV, sit in the recliner and open a cold one. I would do that, too, but I've got work to do. Can't waste time relaxing. I mean, what do you think this is? America?

(ED: I encourage anyone travelling in Japan, tired and achy from a day's sightseeing, to spend 15 minutes in one of these places. And when you get back to your inn, plop yourself down on the tatami and open a cold Kirin. This will go miles toward refreshing you for the next stage of your stay, whatever it may be.)

Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa

Most Westerners who come to Japan end up teaching English. As a result, there is an industry of English schools, called eikaiwas, which promote English instruction as a service to the public and hire native speakers. You don't need any training or experience as this is provided, usually.

I have a pretty good gig as a corporate trainer which is in the higher end of the industry, the requirements are rather strict but I am compensated well for it. But I also don't mind checking out the competition and possibly picking up extra work for fun money.

After looking through the want ads, I came across a school that seemed really small, just starting out and didn't teach children. That was key because I didn't want to come to a side gig teaching babies from my real job in a suit. So, I fire off an email with a resume to the school, hoping for an opportunity to at least check them out.

The first warning should have been the lengthy delay in response time. I had followed up my email nearly a week after my submission and when a month went by, I figured they passed on me. Which is fine. But two months after I submitted my resume, I get a request to come for an interview! I shrugged my shoulders and fired off a request for a meeting time. Another month goes by.

The school, let's call them Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa, emails me again but its a short note, a name and a phone number, nothing else. By now, I have written them off but I see the number so I just ring it up for amusement. I end up speaking with a guy named Charlie. He says he's from Australia. They have a small operation and would I like to meet with him to explore the possibilities. I mention it had been a while since he emailed me and figured they had moved on. Hint #3 or 4: he isn't even listening to me, he's going on about what I should bring and how to get there.

I go. Yep, I have to see this. I really do. So I go. Once there, it turns out to be an office separated by cubicle partitions. I think this is a good set up for a school if all you are going to do is conversation practice but not for a real class. That's okay because it turns out that is just what it is. Students walk in for private one on one lessons for about 45 minutes and then they leave. But there is no way of knowing what the student abilities are, there is no testing! There is no way of knowing what material was covered in previous lessons, there are no student records! There is no way of knowing what the student needs are, there is no interview or asssessment!

There are zero teaching materials. All you get is: a small table, two chairs, a whiteboard, a dictionary and partitions on either side of you barely wide enough for you to slide sideways to your chair. The whole thing is a nightmare. I have decided there is no way I would teach part time there unless they offered me something really juicy.

So I am about five minutes early to my "interview." I introduce myself to the front office staff, make them laugh, and then a guy appears and he starts talking to me. I notice first off that he is Asian and clearly not a native English speaker. He later tells me he is a New Zealander but I figure he is Vietnamese or Cambodian but possibly an emigre to New Zealand. His name is Duc ("Duck") and he informs me in broken English that Charlie can't meet with me but instead he will interview me. He is the assistant manager of...the English school. I sigh and we sit down.

Duc has never interviewed anyone before. I give him a hard copy of my resume and he doesn't even look at it. The first question he asks is, "where are you from?" I point to the top of my resume where the second word after my name is: American. "Take your time reading this," I tell him. He looks up and down at it and then takes a long time looking at the photo on my resume (standard Japanese CVs require a picture as well as your nationality and blood type and other details). Why he needs to look at my picture when I am sitting in front of him, I'll never know.

Remember, I have observed that he hasn't given interviews before. His second question is, "may I tell you how much we can pay you?" Fine, I smile at him. It had better be a whole lot of fucking money. He smiles broadly and says, "nine hundred yen per hour but we can only pay part time."

The minimum hourly wage for this industry, for someone without experience, ground floor, yada yada, is 2000 yen, a little more in Osaka. I am paid two and half times this, not including selling bonuses, with a hefty schedule. I make bank. I don't really need a side gig. But what the guy in front of me is telling me is I am worth less than half what a...year long tourist...is expected to be paid. Duc can see I am not amused. He explains, "after few months, if we like performance, we pay you 1000 yen."

That's it. I'm out the door. Before I go, I ask Duc about the other teachers. Surely, no one, NO ONE, is working for $8 an hour here. I walk around the office and see three teachers, Charlie is one of them (also Southeast Asian?), a young woman with a heavy Russian accent and a Japanese. Duc is also a teacher, I am told. I ask if they have any native English speakers and Duc tells me that they are all native speakers.

I've had my fun, I got to see the true underbelly of the industry, the lowest it can possibly go, at the Late Nite Diner Eikaiwa. Greasy food and tepid coffee, a bored waitress with cigarette forgotten on her lips, and an endless parade of customers who just want to get in, eat and get the hell out. And get the hell out, I do.