Earthquakes and an unexpected departure from the Land of the Rising Sun

It wasn’t until three days after the quake that there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere in Niseko.

Obviously everyone was concerned for the affected areas of Japan, and horrified at the destruction caused by the tsunami that hit the coast and devastated so many homes in Northern Honshu.  But even though we had all felt the quake, albeit very slightly by comparison, as we watched the news it was very much as if it were all happening in another country.   Hokkaido is quite a bit further north than Sendai, the city nearest the epicentre, well over five hundred kilometres, and we were also in an elevated position on the western side of the island, whereas the tsunami struck the eastern coast.  There was talk of there being another large quake quite soon, but Japan is a country generally prepared for seismic activity (8.0 quakes followed by tsunamis excepted) so the danger seemed remote.  In short, most of us were resigned to stay on in our little oasis of calm to enjoy the remainder of the ski season. It wasn’t until the news about the reactor trouble in Fukoshima came out that people started getting nervous.

Some of the season staff started booking flights earlier than others, deciding to get out of the country ASAP.  Then there were those that were sure that they had it all under control.  We’d heard that they’d flooded the reactor with seawater to cool it, a drastic measure which means that it can’t be used again, but we thought that that would be an end to it.  But as the days went on and they struggled to cool down the increasingly volatile situation it seemed that they weren’t getting anywhere fast.

More people started investigating means of leaving the country, some because of the threat of radiation, some because their original plans of travelling around Japan after the season didn’t sound like they’d be much fun; it’s hard to have fun with the locals when they are recovering from a national disaster.  After a long discussion in the house where we discussed the pros and cons of leaving, the cons for basically being: missing out on snow and my last week of work; the cost of booking new flights at short notice; missing out on visiting Okinawa, the sub tropical islands to the extreme south-west of the country where I was planning on spending the month of April.  Disruption to travel plans and slight monetary loss are trivial complaints when ten thousand people are missing or dead and thousands more are homeless though, so I decided to get out.  There was also the fact that I was getting a lot of emails from concerned friends and family, and I was afraid my mother would have a nervous breakdown if I stayed any longer than I had to.  So I booked flights direct from Sapporo to Hong Kong (which meant that I could skip a layover in Tokyo), along with three of my workmates who’d also decided to bail.

The threat of radiation where we were was remote, and even the “above normal” levels of radiation they were detecting in Tokyo were negligible.  We were eight hundred kilometres or so north of the stricken plant, and a reliable Siberian wind blows south over Hokkaido (bringing powder snow along with it), which should keep any airborne radioactive material away from us.  On the other hand, it also had to be taken into consideration that as consistent as the winds are, globally the weather has been doing some pretty crazy things, and what was once dependable might not remain so for long.  It also occurred to me that our location, within ten kilometres away from a huge sleeping volcano mightn’t necessarily be the best one, considering more seismic activity was predicted for the near future.   Even if Yotei or another volcano on Hokkaido just decided to throw a lot of ash around the place it would still be enough to ground flights and strand us for an indefinite amount of time - Eyjafjallajökull in Iceland (no, I didn't know how to spell that), which had delayed my flights into Tokyo by two days, having made me wary.

Some people scoffed at us for leaving, and they were probably right, there is nothing to worry about.   But why take the risk, particularly when no one seems entirely sure what’s going on.

Anyway, after saying goodbye to all the gang in Niseko, and then the ones in Sapporo I flew out on Sunday the 20^th of March.  It wasn’t the ending to my working holiday I’d pictured, but you’ve got to take what you get I suppose.

All I can say for now is good luck to the ones that have stayed put in Niseko, and to all of the other friends that I have made over the course of my ten and a half months in Japan.  

In particular, my thoughts are with the family from Sendai that picked me up while I was hitching to Matsushima, and invited me to join their family barbecue, took me fishing and then dropped me back off at the motorway after a terrific day.  The email address I have for them never worked and I couldn't get through to them on the phone number either.  I hope they made it out all right.  It's a long shot, but if anyone knows anything about them I'd be very grateful to hear from them.

Pain

Got my skis waxed the other day, something that I’d been meaning to do for the last ages, but had been putting it off a) because it costs anywhere between 10-20€ to get them done properly – which seeing it in writing doesn’t seem like that much, but that could equate to 2-3 days on the road once I get back to travelling – and b) because I wasn’t entirely sure how much difference it would make to the skis.  In the end I got a good deal on the whole thing through a friend of a friend who also sharpened the edges for me.

Did it make a difference?  Hell yes.  Didn’t get to go out on them until Monday morning before work at 12, and moving around was so much easier, especially on the flat where previously I struggled to move forward as I grated my dried out ski’s across the snow.  Generally speaking a skier should have a lot easier time on the flat than a snowboarder should as they have their poles to push themselves along with, as well as skating along, pushing forward on one ski then the other to pick up some speed.  So when I was struggling to keep up with all the boarders I should have been thinking that something was wrong.  Now I was burning ahead and loving it.

Monday morning wasn’t an especially fantastic morning snow-wise.  In fact it hadn’t really snowed for two days, and on top of that Sunday had been quite sunny, melting the surface layers of snow which then froze overnight.  The resulting iciness made it less fun to go between the trees, where you can usually find powder snow if there is any to be found, but which was now tracked out, bumpy and unforgiving.  So we hit the snow park.

Up to this time I had been cautiously(ish) introducing myself to the park, doing a few jumps.  Nothing fancy, just trying to go straight over them, land with my skis underneath me and hopefully not end up in a tangled mess.  I’d been doing alright, and although I had fallen a few times I had avoided injury.  So I thought nothing of giving it a go today.

What I hadn’t realised was quite how much the waxing would influence speed I could build up on the short run up to the jump.  It was only as I was going up the ramp, really, that I thought I might be in a bit of trouble.

Now, I haven’t seen many professional skiers up close, but from what I’ve gleaned from the videos they play on a loop in most of the bars around here is that your ass shouldn’t stick out and your skis shouldn’t be pointing towards the sky, but more in line with the down ramp at the other side of the jump.  Waving your arms in mad circles (“rolling down the windows” as it’s been dubbed) isn’t very slick either.  Also I’m pretty sure the pros don’t scream “shitshitshit” as they shoot through the air. 

My skis did land first, just at the end of the down-ramp which I had thought I was going to overshoot altogether, but as I was leaning too far back I ended up slapping myself off the ice in a rapid lower-back, upper-back, head, arms combo.  It was one of the times where I was really grateful that I’d listened to the advice I'd been given and invested in a helmet at the start of the year.  Didn’t feel fantastic after it, but I did walk away, after fetching my ski pole which had come off somewhere between my first and second bounce.

Stayed out a while longer, and tried to do a box (like a rail, but much wider) which I a few weeks before I'd worked at sliding along sideways, but once again I failed to realise how much faster I would be going into it and ended up with both skis flying out from underneath me and skidding on my side all the way to the end.  Not my smoothest day at the park ever it must be said.

Afterwards I was a bit stiff and sore, and a bit stiffer and sorer yesterday, with the most tender parts being my lower legs with significant bruising (not visibly but it’s there, believe me) on my shins from the boots.  Went to bed last night at about 1am (after our sad elimination from the darts tournament, but more on that later) and then woke at 3:30 to a dull but insistent aching in my lower back and legs which kept me awake for an hour before I decided bed wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I might as well come down and do something productive.  So here we are.  It seems to have subsided a bit now, but I’m going to pass on the morning’s skiing that I had planned, which is particularly gutting as it has been puking down with beautiful fresh pow all night.  I might try to get back to sleep before I have to work at three.

As for darts, The Soaring Arrows, our team which had made its way to the semi-finals played our last game of the league yesterday after battling it out for the last thirteen or so weeks.  We threw some pretty amazing darts over the last few weeks, guys, and pulled some wins out of nowhere, clawing our way back from seemingly impossible point differences, smashing bullseyes and our seemingly unstoppable run of paralysers was great while it lasted.  Cheers.  And best of luck to Patong Dart Show in their match against D.A.R.T. tonight.

That’s all from me for now, although here is a video of one of my first jumps which I was pretty proud of although it's nothing really spectacular, sadly I didn’t get to immortalise my last one, but what can you do.  Sorry for the long intro as well.

Also the lastest KMonster blog is up on youtube.  He’s doing backflips now.  Epic.

Making up for lost time - What you've been missing.

View of Mt Yotei from the slopes of Hirafu

After an extended period with no updates on my travels I thought it was high time I filled people in on the goings on, if they are interested, or indeed if they even remember who I am.

Anyway, for those who ARE curious to know my whereabouts, I am still on Hokkaido, the northernmost of the four main Japanese islands, working in Hirafu, a ski town in the Niseko area, famous for getting some of the best powder in the world.  I’ve been here since the end of November and have been working all the hours I can so that I’ll have a few yen to rub together so that the adventure can continue when I leave here on the 25 of March.  I won’t be riding first class, but I will be moving.

Now to try to bring you up to speed with some of the goings on between this and my last post in November.

Got from Sapporo, where I had been living, to Hirafu, by getting a lift from a friend from work who had very nicely offered to drive me, which was great as it meant that I didn’t have to be quite as painfully slow and careful in folding and rolling my gear so that every available crevice in the bag was filled (a process which usually requires several attempts and much repositioning of t-shirts and my other pair of shoes before achieving success).  It also meant that I could take much of my leftover herbs, spices and contents of my cupboards in the three small bins that I had bought to help separate my rubbish for collection and load them into the back of the car instead of leaving them behind.  I was not sorry to leave the house and my senile old landlady behind, particularly after her carry on during the few days leading up to my escape from the city.

For the two weeks prior to my departure, it had been no secret that I was planning to leave on the last Sunday of August, and my landlady had acknowledged “28^th, Sunday, Damien bye-bye”.  I knew that I’d originally paid for the apartment on the 26^th of August and that technically speaking the contract was up on the Friday, but I thought she was going to give me the two extra days until my accommodation in Niseko opened up.  I should have known better.  At 14:05 on Friday afternoon she started banging on the door, and I answered to find her pointing at the contract and basically telling me to beat it.  I hadn’t even begun packing yet, so I told her I wasn’t going, and then she told me to wait a minute while she went upstairs to get something.  I had to meet a guy who had agreed to teach me Japanese chess, so while she was up there I jumped on my bike and scarpered.

I came back later on to find a bill for the extra two days I’d be staying stuck in my letter box.  But I had absolutely no intention of paying it, even though it was under 15€ for the two nights.  I figured that I’d been done out of enough money in the bar already.

I thought that she’d probably try to get into the house while I was gone (I was going to a friend’s house for another going away dinner), so I took the door handle off the living room door, so that she’d only be able to get into the genkan (entrance area where you leave your shoes before entering the house) but no further.  I also booby trapped the front door so a few empty plastic fuel drums would tumble out when the door was opened.  Not so much to cause harm or injury, but rather so I’d know if she’d gone in.  I also left a note on the door saying “600yen per hour =” over a picture of a police car and the old woman in the back, followed by “2 days – 1500 SALE”.  A bit cheeky but I was high on rebellion at that stage.

After a lovely dinner at my friend's house I got back home before the old woman came back from the bar, forgetting about the door and so the drums tumbled out around my feet, scaring the absolute be-jojo’s out of me.  And there I waited.

My chess lessons had put me in a bit of a tactical frame of mind and so I was trying to play out all possible scenarios in my mind.  I reckoned that as she was paying me 600yen per month, which is below minimum wage, that I had her over a barrel in terms of bar work.  I also figured that she would be slow to call the guards anyway as she’d had a bit of trouble with them the week before for breaking into my neighbours place.  Her main argument in my view was the fact that the contract was very much in her favour, but I was hoping that my position was slightly stronger, especially as I could also blow the whistle on her illegally paying people to work on an incorrect visa.  Of course she also had the added advantage of being pretty proficient in Japanese, elderly and a native Sapporo-ite, but these things didn’t occur to me at the time.

When she knocked on my window at 2am she asked me about the note, saying that I was getting paid 680 yen per hour, and that the times I arrived in at 21:05 I was paid from 21:30.  No one had told me this, and I suspected it was lies, but it did undermine my main argument.  After a long debate (in which I impressed myself with my ability to make myself understood in Japanese) it was decided that I could stay in the apartment for nothing for the remaining few days, but she would be bringing a copy of my visa to immigration on Monday to see if I could really work in the bar legally (I think her ace in the hole was the threat of immigration as she thought my visa excluded me from bar work).  I was pretty confident my visa was sound, so we made peace and left it at that.

I was among the first four to arrive in the staff house, which made it easy to remember names and faces as the new staff members trickled in, as within two to three weeks nearly all of the twenty-three beds had been filled, which was, I imagine, a bit overwhelming for the last to come.

One thing I discovered on my arrival was that I would not be working in a bar as I had originally thought, but rather in the café/deli, just beside the bar.  I also would not be working nights as I thought, but in fact it would be more mornings.  These things didn’t really put me out at all; except for the fact that everyone from Sapporo keeps asking me how the bar work is going.  Actually I’m quite happy with the hours and the work, although I do need to get an early night before my 06:30 starts, but I more or less have a routine going now. 

I didn’t think that working in this area would be any good for my Japanese skills, as I’d heard most of the businesses are Aussie owned, and most of the tourists are also from down under, but, while this is almost certainly true, with the exception of Chinese New Year at the end of January when there was an invasion of punters from Hong Kong, Singapore and surrounds, I have made some good progress in my spoken ability.  At least, I think so.  What has helped most has been the fact that as well as my hours in the deli I also work a few shifts a week in another small shop owned by the same company, where I work alongside one of several Japanese girls, most of whom don’t speak all that much English, so we have to struggle through conversations with a bit of a mix of both languages.  Lately I’ve noticed that there has been a lot less English in the mix, though, which is surely a positive sign.

As for the snowboarding, well…

Before I left I had received not one but two snowboards for absolutely nothing from a neighbour and a friend of a friend (but now a friend of mine as well) who had no more use for them, as well as boots, snowboard pants, and jacket.  The gear was great, and even if it wasn’t I couldn’t say much as the guys hadn’t asked for anything in return for them (although I did drop them out a bottle of whiskey – Jameson, naturally – and wine as a thank you gift).  In the end though, the boots were a little bit too big for me, and while I was searching for new ones I came across a set of skis, boots and poles for about the same price as the boots alone.  So I made the switch, and so it is that I’ve been on the skis since.

I don’t get out as much as I’d originally thought I would, partially because I was working 50 hour weeks during the busy period, but mostly because generally I tend to go out for a few days, do something stupid, hurt myself and then spend a week or so recovering, and then go out and do it all again.  I am improving, but slowly.

This will have to do for now, as it’s already a bit of an epic tale that tells of nothing, but at least it will let people know I’m still alive and typing the same drivel.

There will hopefully be more exciting updates quite soon.

Oh, by the way, one of the guys I'm living with is rocking the video blogs on Youtube every week.  He has some great snowboarding footage, along with wicked music.  And now and again I pop up in the background, although there are no ski shots yet.  But one of these days I might make the cut.  Worth a look, so here's the link to his channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/kieranjamesharris

Excitement in the Work Place

Last night was one of those nights I was glad to turn up for work.  Of late the job has been a little bit hard to take, mostly due to management issues, which are a little bit complex, but I shall try to give a concise yet comprehensive rundown of what we’re dealing with.

As I’ve mentioned numerous times, the bar is owned by my landlady, an 81 year old woman, who has been running it for the past 53 years (which is impressive in itself).  She still comes to the bar almost every night, and sits, smiles and talks to the customers, showing them a photo copy of a newspaper article on the bar from a few years ago.

Effectively, the bar is now actually run by a 50 year old Chinese woman (although she looks a lot younger and first time customers are unlikely to escape the "guess how old I am" game - guesses are usually around the 30 mark, but I always hope someone will say 55), who has been there for the past 6 years.  She makes out the customers bills, tells the old woman how much to pay staff, and prepares the vast majority of the drinks.

The pair of them come together to make a team that is quite adept at ripping customers off, the Chinese one usually adding a few drinks on to the tab.  Unless of course the customers are Chinese, in which case they only pay for one drink, even though they’ve been at the bar all night.

Employment of staff is an interesting process to say the least.  I might have told you that I got the work when I went to look at the old woman’s apartments for rent, where she nabbed me and told me I had a job in the bar, starting that evening.  The old woman is always on the lookout for foreigners or attractive Japanese girls to work in the bar, as they go down well with customers (a hot favourite is Russian girls).  She very regularly grabs them off the street and tries to get them to come up to the bar to sign up part time, adding their names and numbers to a thick notebook that stays behind the bar.  The result, very often more staff than customers, as the bar can really only fit about twenty people on the customer’s side, and it’s rare to get that many.  It’s a farce.

When there are no customers in the bar we have to go out on the street and try to get customers to come in to the bar.   Targets are usually groups of businessmen, although I’m told my mission is to find cute girls and/or foreigners.  I don’t really have a high success rate, particularly now, as I don’t really try very hard any more, as I’m not prepared to lie to people to get them into the bar in order to get ripped off.  I do say that it is an interesting place, which it is, and that we have Karaoke – on Laserdisc; a technology that had completely passed me by.

When I started out I was told that I’d be earning about 600yen per hour (just under 6€ and quite a bit below minimum wage).  I wouldn’t have minded too much if they’d told me it was because I was new, or because I didn’t speak Japanese, but what annoyed me was the fact that they tried telling me it was because there was a problem with my visa.  In other words – codswallop.  There are other words, but we’ll leave them to your imagination.   I stuck with it, though, as the work wasn’t exactly taxing, I wasn’t looking to get rich and I saw it as a good way to pick up some Japanese.

The other staff that work there regularly earn perhaps twice my wages, and the girls that she drags in off the road are offered a much better starting rate of about 1000yen per hour.  That is also irritating. 

The Chinese woman, however, pockets 10,000 yen at the end of the night, for about 4-5 hours work.  If we don’t get many customers, our wages get postponed or withheld.  In a way I am lucky that I earn so little, as I usually get paid what I’m owed, whereas the others might never get it.

Right.  Not exactly concise, but a picture has been painted nonetheless.  In short, they rip off both staff and customers on a regular basis.

So, last night, I came in from my rounds on the street to find an Aussie guy in his forties sitting at the bar looking through the photos from years back.  He was looking to see if he was in any, as he’d worked there for a year and a half when he first came to Japan, 16 years ago (another one to have come on a Working Holiday and ended up staying, I’ve been meeting a few).  It was while he was reminiscing that my next-door neighbour stormed up the stairs and had a big barney with the old woman.  Apparently she had used her spare key to his apartment when he was out to go in and take one of his gallon drums of heating paraffin, which presumably at that moment was keeping us nice and toasty in the bar.  The police were called, by my neighbour, I think, and so they all went downstairs and spent well over an hour outside. 

I assumed that the matter had been sorted when the old woman came back up to the bar at about midnight, just as we prepared to leave, but I was surprised to find the guards were still sitting outside the front door in their car.  So I took the opportunity to take a few cheeky pics (with the camera that I finally got repaired after four practically pictureless months).  I’m not sure, but they may have been waiting for everyone to leave before they took her away, or maybe the Chinese manager was going to drive her to the station.  Either way, it was a long time before I heard her arrive at her apartment upstairs.

Overall it was immensely satisfying to see the events unfold first hand.

Approaching Winter.

As I mentioned in the last lengthy post, the first snow fell in Niseko last week.  On the evening of the same day, it also fell here in the city, and so I got a little taste of what the place will be like during the winter.  Bloody cold, that’s what.

I also got an idea of how the snow effects city life.

First of all, on the main streets the snow is cleared away from the footpaths, but in the smaller areas, like where I live, it builds up.  Added to this, the snow ploughs heap snow from the road up against the pavements. 

This all has the effect of making cycling pretty dicey, especially when one has no intention of investing in snow tyres.

Obviously, I no longer cycled on the road, as this would have invited quite serious injury or death, and, to tell the truth, I’m fairly certain that I can injure myself quite sufficiently on the footpaths that haven’t been cleared.  The two outings that I made when the snow was prevalent, were both undertaken with plenty of time to spare, and were more for research on the effect of the snow on one’s ability to stay upright on the bicycle than to get to work in a huge hurry.  The intelligence gathered from these expeditions will hopefully have given me enough knowledge of the white menace to avoid any mishaps in the event of another fall.

So far this is what I’ve learned:

• Do not try cycling through snow while negotiating a turn
• Dismount in areas where the pavement slopes from left to right, or visa versa, i.e. in any other direction than the direction you are cycling.
• High speeds should be avoided, as should sudden changes in direction.  Ramming snowdrifts is also ill-advised, though it may seem fun.
• Do not attempt to pedal from a standstill when the back tire is in snow – especially at pedestrian crossings and ESPECIALLY when there is a man in a suit standing behind you – to avoid wheel spin and resulting back spray.
• Brake in plenty of time.
• Cycling slowly is still faster than walking.

As for the apartment, it has, unsurprisingly, become increasingly cold along with the weather.  The stove still heats the living room nicely, although I’m running low on paraffin for it now, and I don’t know where to get more yet.  The bedroom, however, is generally freezing.  It had been the case that with several layers of blankets heaped up on top of me I was quite cosy, and changing at bedtime and getting into bed were the only issues.  However when the snow fell even the bed was no haven of warmth against the chill.  Last night I completed my migration into the living room, and from now on I only make brief polar forays into the other part of the house for clothes and such.

It’s not so bad though, as I have less than a month to go before I move to the ski resort, where I’ll be on proper wages (with a meal or two per shift), living in a warm house (albeit shared) with an internet connection, and snowboarding to my heart’s content (that is if I ever get around to buying a board).

Also, decided to try the internet in park outside my house again, and it's back working!  My luck is still in!

What a week!

Last week was, without doubt, a tremendous one.

Things started going well on Tuesday morning when I received a message saying that I had been one of three winners in an online competition to predict the date and time of the first snow in Niseko, the ski resort I’m heading to in December.  I now have a free meal for two in a fancy restaurant (well…I presume it’s fancy…although it IS called The Barn) when I arrive.  Boom.  Now all I have to do is find someone to go with me.  Although I have been considering the possibility of going alone and getting two meals, but there’s a limit to even my sadness.

So that put me in a good mood for most of the morning, or indeed, the entire day (although most will tell you that I’m a generally cheery sort anyway), and gave me something to talk about in the conversation café.

In my abundance of free time, I also set about completing my Halloween costume, which I had been doing on and off for the best part of two weeks.  I was planning on going as ‘Kaonashi’ or ‘No-Face’, a character from a popular Japanese animated film, Spirited Away, that I really like.  The idea was to do it on the cheap, which I managed, the most expensive thing being the material from which I was going to make the costume.  I started papier maché-ing the mask a few weeks earlier, so all I needed to do was paint that and boom.  All of the measurements were more or less done through guess work and by eye, and I spent more than 15 hours sitting or kneeling on the floor beside the low Japanese-style table in my living room sewing the thing together.  To be honest, I think the fact that the end result looked vaguely similar to what I’d set out to make was largely a happy coincidence.  While I worked I alternated between listening to my Learning Japanese programme on the computer and a variety of music.

Eventually on Friday I got it finished with less than 30cm left to sew before I had to go to work at the bar.   It was THEN that one of the girls I work with asked if I needed to use her sewing machine.  She was very lucky she wasn’t standing at the top of the stairs at the time.

Anyway, the conversation café Halloween party was on Saturday evening, and seeing as I had to cycle there, I brought the costume with me and changed in the bathroom.  Everyone seemed impressed with it, and I chose to believe that they were, and not just trying to spare my feelings.  The main flaw that was evident to me was the fact that at certain angles I looked like the silhouette of an enormous penis.  But nobody seemed to notice that until I mentioned it.

Another downside was the heat, as to give myself a bit of extra height I had a folded pillow sitting on top of my head (with a bowl on top of that, because otherwise the resemblance to a phallus was even more striking), which you can imagine made my head and ears quite toasty.

The work party finished up at around ten, not very long after the prizes for best male and female costume were announced.  I hadn’t even considered myself a competitor, as I thought that staff were exempt, added to the fact that there were other impressive costumes floating around, so I was shocked and stunned to hear my name called out, and to receive a bottle of wine.

I had had plans of heading to a bar in the centre where they were going to be giving a 10,000Yen (100€ give or take) bar tab for best costume, and chancing my arm there, but a crowd from the work party were heading for karaoke, so I thought I’d go with them for a bit, because everyone was having a good time, I’d already won something, and plus we figured the regulars would be the most likely to win anyway.  So off we went for perhaps two hours, where I chose my songs poorly, and afterwards I went to the club to see if I could find some of the gang from my other job.

Outside the club, I wavered, wondering if I could really be bothered putting the costume back on again to head inside.  But, just as I decided to go home, out came two of the girls from work, dressed as a dead maid and an equally dead nurse, who caught me and convinced me to go in.

After a quick change I went in and hit the dance floor.  Now, you may be surprised to hear this, but usually when I walk into a club, people don’t actually stop and stare, which is what happened this time.  People in close proximity (who I could make out through my peep-hole) stepped back to take the whole thing in (it could have been the pillow on the head which gave me and extra foot and a half in height which necessitated that extra distance) and it was invariably followed by compliments.  People made their way over to me to shake hands, and perhaps most strangely, girls were coming up to dance with me.

There is a raised platform (I suppose you’d almost call it a rather narrow stage, complete with a pole) which I was ushered onto by my friends, and we grooved around on that for a while.  And girls were still coming over and dancing in front of the stage, waving at me, etc.  I gave out some 'gold' (balls of tinfoil painted yellow), like the character does in the film, but I stopped that pretty sharpish after one girl tried eating it. 

After a while, the pillow was getting a little bit hot again, so I made for the door to get some air.  I was stopped on the way by one of the staff, who wanted to make sure I wasn’t leaving, because I was after winning the prize for best costume!!!  I didn’t even know they were holding a competition.  And the prize?  10,000Yen bar tab, baby!!!

As I’ve already indicated, chicks here seem to dig cartoon characters, and this became all the more evident when after a few hours I decided to leave the suit in the cloakroom.  I went back to the dance floor, and tried dancing with ladies I’d been doing pretty ok with less than fifteen minutes earlier and was met with a ‘who the hell are you?’ look.  The natural order of things, it would seem, had come back into effect.

The following day, Sunday, I met with a woman for a language exchange for the first time, as she’d responded to a notice I’d put on the board in the International Plaza in town.  She’d spent two months studying in Galway last summer.  I went to meet her for coffee in the station, and was told that she’d be outside Mr. Donut carrying a Penney’s bag.   Of course I was looking for a brown paper one, and not fabric with the floral pattern that she had, but she spotted me, so it was alright. 

After coffee (or juice in my case), and discussion about Fr. Ted, pubs, music etc, I asked her if she’d come with me while I wore my Halloween costume on the subway. 

This strange request deserves an explanation.  In the animation from whence the character I modelled my costume on originated, there is a scene in which both they and the main character take a train to visit a witch (you should really just watch the film), which I wanted to replicate, and seeing that it was Halloween, I thought it was my best opportunity.  I know many people who would have politely declined an offer to embark on such a venture, particularly on the first meeting, but this legend simply said, ‘OK’.

So off we went, and perhaps because it’s not the kind of thing I’d usually do, I really enjoyed it.  We bought a ticket for one stop, and then went all the way to the end of the line before taking the train back agan and getting off at the stop we’d paid for.  Along the way, we got a lot of laughs out of a lot of people, and many asked for photos with me.  In fact I thought we’d never get away from the last station when the beginning of a crowd started forming.  But it dissipated after a while and I removed the costume for the last time, its purpose now fulfilled.

Overall it was the close to a fairly amazing week, having gone from never winning anything (apart from that three-legged race with my cousin in the Banner Rose festival, Kildysart, when we were 11 or so – the trophy for which still holds pride of place on the windowsill in my bedroom), to three wins over the space of five days.  Let’s hope it lasts.

Interviews

Didn’t say much about it at the time, but about a month ago I went to Niseko, the best known ski resort in Japan, to suss out jobs for the ski season.  The majority of the hotels and businesses in the area are Australian owned, and the place gets a lot of foreign custom, mainly Australians, Chinese and Singaporean, so my beginner’s Japanese was not likely to be a problem.

The hitchhiking out took about two hours and I got dropped right in the middle of the main area.  The first guy that picked me up was one of the few travelling with children that has stopped for me.  Not only that, but, because the front seat was covered in various bits and bobs, he told me to get into the back beside his six year old son.  Not only THAT, but after about ten minutes he pulled into a convenience store parking area, turned to me, said “Wait a minute”, and disappeared into the shop, leaving the keys in the ignition, and me and the kid sitting there looking at each other.  He came back with drinks for all and we resumed the journey.  A really nice guy, but unlikely to win any parenting awards for that move.

Once in Niseko I began hitting the businesses, starting at the very top of the hill in the hotels etc. nearest the main ski lifts and working my way down.  The ones at the top didn’t need anyone, or if they did they were looking for someone who spoke Japanese.  This was true for most places until about halfway down when I got invited into an inn (Japanese owned) and offered a job on the spot, cleaning rooms etc.  I decided to keep asking around to keep my options open, as the pay wasn’t great in this particular place and free time to enjoy the snow would also be limited.  I would also have to buy a ski pass out of my own pocket which I really was hoping to avoid.

The employers I met during my job search were very helpful and even if they didn’t have any job openings for me they were more than willing to give me pointers on places that might be hiring.  The ones who were looking for people often invited me in for an interview, as most of the applicants they get apply online from abroad and so they don’t get to meet them in the flesh until after they’ve been hired and show up for work.

I couldn’t afford to print out a rake of CVs so I had one original that I’d printed at a friend’s house, and of which I’d made one photocopy.  It was only as I was handing this copy out that I realised that I had my Irish number on it instead of my Japanese one so I had to correct it.  Eek.  I told the rest that I had handed all my CVs out (which was true) and they all said it would be fine for me to email it to them. I’d also decided that I wasn’t going to tell any porkies during the interviews; I’d just tell it how it is and see how it went.  An example from one particular interview went as follows:

Employer:        So, do you have any bar experience?

Damien:           Well, I did a bar and restaurant course about three or four years ago, but I’m not going to pretend that I remember any of it now.

Employer:        I see…

Damien:           I also work part time in my landlady’s bar at the moment, but my job is more focused on talking with customers than serving drinks, so I don’t know if I’d even class that as experience either.

Employer:        Well, some experience is still better than nothing, you know.

Damien:           Hmm…I suppose so.

Perhaps not what one might call “selling yourself”.   You can imagine my surprise when I got an email from that employer last week offering me a position running the bar in his hotel.  I’d hate to see what the online applications were like. 

I had to decline this offer, though, as I’d already accepted a position in another company with three outlets – a bar, restaurant and café.   They have a few ski passes which are shared among staff, a reasonable salary and plenty of hours if I want them, which I will.  They also arrange shared accommodation, which is a little bit expensive – twice what I’m paying at the moment – but then again it’s a pricey area.

All in all, a day well spent, although I did think I was going to get stranded out there as the shadows were growing longer while I stood at the side of the road trying to thumb my way back home.  Thankfully, just as I was about to give up and try the train (oh the horror), two girls on their way home via Sapporo picked me up and dropped me off in town.

Quick update

Back again, just in case people were interested in how things went yesterday evening.

At first I thought I was going to be stood up, as she was late arriving at the bar, but eventually she showed up and we went in and took a seat by the window.  We ordered drinks and got talking…

…And she was entirely normal, granted a bit of a flirt, but not the dangerous, evil degenerate that you might expect if you were to believe what people say.  Overall we had a good laugh, and I stayed for three drinks instead of only having the one as I’d originally planned.  And best of all she wouldn’t let me pay for anything!

In short, another stereotype exposed, and we’ll more than likely head out again.

In other news, got a knock on the door the other day.  The water people.  Wondering how long I’d been living here for.   Genuinely got my dates mixed up and said I arrived at the end of September instead of August, so I might have got a free month, but it looks like I’ll be getting a bill of some sort soon enough.  If only I can hold out with the ‘lectric for another month and a bit, we’ll be alright.

Started working on my Halloween costume properly today as well.  The Conversation Café I work in is throwing a party on the 30^th and I’m trying to piece an outfit together now.  Can’t tell you what I’m going as yet, but I will say that I was papier maché-ing today for the first time in at least ten years.  I’ll also say that potato flour is no substitute for the wheaty variety for this purpose.  Doesn’t stick together at all!

That’s all for now, only a quick one today.