A student of mine told me that you can hypnotize dragonflies. That is a succinct summary of a much longer conversation.
Join me on a wild trip down Tangent Lane, where I'll distract us from the main topic for a few minutes to --hopefully-- entertain both of us. If not, at least I'll be amused.
Living in a foreign country can be very fun. Conversations are like a wild mix of Taboo, charades, and blank staring. Speaking with Japanese people usually involves partial sentences and gesturing. For some reason I never have my dictionary on me, so life is much more complicated. There is a complex ratio that describes whether a conversation is fun or hair-pulling stressful.
[time available + (difficulty of concepts - vocabulary)] X immediacy ^ importance = amusement level
And that equation is scientifically tested. I pulled it out of a research paper titled "Living in a Foreign Country: Sanity's Breaking Point." It has many other fine equations such as the function to calculate the rate at which patience is exhausted based on the number, volume, and proximity of advertising kiosks in a department store. One thrift store has so many loud kiosks all near each other playing different music so loud it obliterates the minds ability to focus. Only theoretical physics has numbers small enough to describe how fast patience was exhausted.
Anyway, back to my original tangent.
Conversations such as "You can hypnotize dragonflies," over the course of fifteen minutes are quite fun. On the other side of things, you have the "You've been pulled over for a reason you can't understand and the policeman wants information from you that you can't provide and it is 10:30 at night and you still have a commute to deal with," conversation which is not fun at all.
So, to summarize fifteen minutes of partial sentences, gestures, laughs, and astonishment, you can hypnotize dragonflies. You wave your finger in a circle in front of their face. We're not sure exactly why it works, but the theory is that because they have so many eyes, trying to follow your finger makes them dizzy. Once they are good and dizzy, they will step onto your finger (or land on it if you are such a skilled dragonfly charmer that you can bamboozle them in mid-flight). They will sit there quite contentedly for several seconds before they fly away. Oh yeah, and it only works with the brown ones.
I can't wait to try it. I found out about this right before the weather got too hot. All the brown dragonflies disappeared and only the black and yellow striped ones were still around. Now the brown ones are everywhere. If I get a chance to catch a dragonfly I'll definitely let you know.
I know all of you will try too. I'm picturing all of you crouched down wiggling your fingers at something and the image has me laughing out loud.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Religion
One major difference living here is the number of churches. They're almost as rare as Shinto shrines in southern Louisiana. Whenever you see one it is surprising enough to point out.
Religion doesn't come up often in conversation or in the news. Today I was pretty surprised to see a story about Christianity on the main page of Japan today. It's a pretty cool story.
Religion doesn't come up often in conversation or in the news. Today I was pretty surprised to see a story about Christianity on the main page of Japan today. It's a pretty cool story.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Mood Swings
The weather here is definitely having mood swings. This summer was the hottest summer in 100 years.
In a conversation with a student I found out that the nightly low temperature during the first week of September was the same as the daytime high last week. I went from sweating like crazy from the effort of sitting upright to shivering because I wore short sleeves. We went from using the AC to using the heater in two weeks.
The past two weeks have been extremely rainy too. I thought the rainy season was in June and July, but I guess it got lonely so it came back for a visit. I'm wondering how all this rain will effect the harvested rice that is supposed to be drying...
In a conversation with a student I found out that the nightly low temperature during the first week of September was the same as the daytime high last week. I went from sweating like crazy from the effort of sitting upright to shivering because I wore short sleeves. We went from using the AC to using the heater in two weeks.
The past two weeks have been extremely rainy too. I thought the rainy season was in June and July, but I guess it got lonely so it came back for a visit. I'm wondering how all this rain will effect the harvested rice that is supposed to be drying...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
New Camera
You may have noticed that there are a lot more pictures on the blog lately. My old Canon camera from 2001 was starting to poop out and it didn't have drivers for Vista/Windows7. Until I got the new camera I had to take pictures with Kelli's camera, download them to her computer, copy them to a USB and then put them on my computer. That was a little too much work.
I'm not the sort of guy who walks into the store, looks at the cameras, and then picks one. I have to shop, look at reviews, consider, read some more reviews, ponder, then look for the best price. Once I had narrowed my choices down to two Panasonic cameras, I went to K's Denki to look at actual cameras.
Sometimes, I feel a little bit like Eeyore. To be more accurate I feel like Eeyore if his last name were Murphy and he wrote a law describing why a flipped coin has a 50% chance of landing heads up and dropped buttered toasts has a 100% chance of landing buttered side down. Sometimes "anything that can go wrong will", and "of course it happens to me."
Panasonic used to release all their cameras in Japan with Japanese and English menus. The key phrase in that last sentence is "used to." Until this year in fact. Yes, the first camera model year not to include bilingual menus was 2010. I felt like Eeyore Murphy Simpson. D'oh!
Panasonic decided to sell the same camera with 4 languages for a slightly higher price and call it an international model, which made me mad. Not to mention no one even keeps it in stock in our town. I bit the bullet and bought a camera with Japanese menus.
How's that working out for me? Let's just say, thank goodness all the menu options have little icons.
I'm not the sort of guy who walks into the store, looks at the cameras, and then picks one. I have to shop, look at reviews, consider, read some more reviews, ponder, then look for the best price. Once I had narrowed my choices down to two Panasonic cameras, I went to K's Denki to look at actual cameras.
Sometimes, I feel a little bit like Eeyore. To be more accurate I feel like Eeyore if his last name were Murphy and he wrote a law describing why a flipped coin has a 50% chance of landing heads up and dropped buttered toasts has a 100% chance of landing buttered side down. Sometimes "anything that can go wrong will", and "of course it happens to me."
Panasonic used to release all their cameras in Japan with Japanese and English menus. The key phrase in that last sentence is "used to." Until this year in fact. Yes, the first camera model year not to include bilingual menus was 2010. I felt like Eeyore Murphy Simpson. D'oh!
Panasonic decided to sell the same camera with 4 languages for a slightly higher price and call it an international model, which made me mad. Not to mention no one even keeps it in stock in our town. I bit the bullet and bought a camera with Japanese menus.
How's that working out for me? Let's just say, thank goodness all the menu options have little icons.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Rice Harvest
When we arrived in April, it was planting season for rice. The tiny little bundles of seedlings have now grown thirty inches tall and drooped over under the weight of the rice.
We were very surprised to see how rice is harvested.
Bundles of rice are tied together with straw, then tied to posts. I'm not sure, but I think it is to let the rice dry.
In most fields the posts are then covered with netting. Again, I'm not completely sure why, but I think it is to keep the birds away. The farmers of the field above have had the field covered for several weeks. Most fields are not covered before harvest, so I'm not sure why the did it.
This field makes it seem like so little rice for such a big field. I wonder how long that much rice would feed a family of four.
All of these pictures were taken between my house and the grocery store which is about a half mile away. Part of a block might be residential, and the other part a large garden or small field. I'll try to get a picture of a rice harvester. They're pretty cool...
We were very surprised to see how rice is harvested.
Bundles of rice are tied together with straw, then tied to posts. I'm not sure, but I think it is to let the rice dry.
In most fields the posts are then covered with netting. Again, I'm not completely sure why, but I think it is to keep the birds away. The farmers of the field above have had the field covered for several weeks. Most fields are not covered before harvest, so I'm not sure why the did it.
This field makes it seem like so little rice for such a big field. I wonder how long that much rice would feed a family of four.
All of these pictures were taken between my house and the grocery store which is about a half mile away. Part of a block might be residential, and the other part a large garden or small field. I'll try to get a picture of a rice harvester. They're pretty cool...
Thursday, September 16, 2010
How Cute! Part 1
Through my travels I've come to realize something about the US. We like things big. We like big hamburgers. We like big cars. Because our cars huge, our roads are wide. When we want to build something, we get in there with the biggest heavy equipment that'll fit, and we get 'er done. Look out trees and power lines; the excavator has come.
When I think of track-hoes and bulldozers, I picture big yellow behemoths, carving up the earth with ease. In my mind, there is something inherently manly about construction equipment and that should be reflected both in its size and in its color. The same machismo doesn't apply in Japan. For example:
Is that a construction site or playground equipment? I feel like that thing might get bogged down trying to bulldoze a sandcastle. And if you think the turquoise is bad, you should see all of the pastel purple equipment. It must be more like working in an Easter egg, than working in a tank. I can guarantee no one is going to weld armor on this bad boy and go on a rampage through downtown Granby.
But at least cranes have to be large right? I mean, they have to lift huge loads high up into the sky.
Doesn't the little guy look kind of sad? Maybe he is like Thomas the train. He wants to grow up to be a big crane. Maybe some day he can lift heavy things like trusses or shipping containers. For now he has to be content with lifting two-by-fours and giving atomic wedgies.
Sure, I know I shouldn't make fun. And to be fair, I can think of one practical application for this mini-crane. Mom could keep it in her kitchen to reach things on the top shelf. It would be perfect. She could park it under the microwave when she wasn't using it.
When I think of track-hoes and bulldozers, I picture big yellow behemoths, carving up the earth with ease. In my mind, there is something inherently manly about construction equipment and that should be reflected both in its size and in its color. The same machismo doesn't apply in Japan. For example:
Is that a construction site or playground equipment? I feel like that thing might get bogged down trying to bulldoze a sandcastle. And if you think the turquoise is bad, you should see all of the pastel purple equipment. It must be more like working in an Easter egg, than working in a tank. I can guarantee no one is going to weld armor on this bad boy and go on a rampage through downtown Granby.
But at least cranes have to be large right? I mean, they have to lift huge loads high up into the sky.
Sure, I know I shouldn't make fun. And to be fair, I can think of one practical application for this mini-crane. Mom could keep it in her kitchen to reach things on the top shelf. It would be perfect. She could park it under the microwave when she wasn't using it.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Perspective
As I was studying Japanese, I saw that the word for last year, zennen, is made up of two kanji: front and year. The word means last year, or the year before.
It reminded me of my Roman History class in college. I remember the professor telling us that the Romans viewed history as if they were standing in a river facing downstream. The future is behind them, flowing round them and into the past. Their paradigm was the opposite of ours. Where we see history as fading behind us as we face the oncoming future, ancient Romans learned from the past, because the future couldn't be seen.
The difference in perspective stuck with me. There is a lot of wisdom in setting your eyes on the lessons of the past, and of your ancestors, and letting the future come as it may. All to often we get wrapped up in worries about the future. Sometimes the future looms so large we lose track of the present. On the other hand, sometimes the present seems so overwhelming, we can't see hope for the future.
Somehow, looking at the past--world history, and the span of my puny life--helps put the present and future into perspective. No matter where we stand now, nor where what we hope or fear tomorrow will bring, history teaches us this: This too shall pass.
It reminded me of my Roman History class in college. I remember the professor telling us that the Romans viewed history as if they were standing in a river facing downstream. The future is behind them, flowing round them and into the past. Their paradigm was the opposite of ours. Where we see history as fading behind us as we face the oncoming future, ancient Romans learned from the past, because the future couldn't be seen.
The difference in perspective stuck with me. There is a lot of wisdom in setting your eyes on the lessons of the past, and of your ancestors, and letting the future come as it may. All to often we get wrapped up in worries about the future. Sometimes the future looms so large we lose track of the present. On the other hand, sometimes the present seems so overwhelming, we can't see hope for the future.
Somehow, looking at the past--world history, and the span of my puny life--helps put the present and future into perspective. No matter where we stand now, nor where what we hope or fear tomorrow will bring, history teaches us this: This too shall pass.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
The Golden Temple
As I mentioned in my post about Christopher Columbus, there is a golden temple not far from here, in Hiraizumi town. Hiraizumi was once a cultural center to rival Kyoto. Unfortunately it was conquered and burned to the ground. Most of the buildings were lost. The temple area had hundreds of temples. Only a few survived the fire and a few have been reconstructed. Luckily, the Golden Temple and the Noh theater survived.
My favorite thing about seeing temples and shrines is the woodwork.
The inside of that temple looked like this. Having seen other temples, I can tell you that this is what the often look like inside. They are crowded with statues and incense holders. The box in the lower left corner is the donation box.
The two pictures above are separate buildings. The thatched roofs are still around. Only in the past twenty or thirty years have they been largely replaced by metal and tile, or so I was told. I'm pretty sure the chicken wire is a more modern innovation though.
This is a string of a thousand paper cranes. Tradition holds that if you fold a thousand paper cranes, the crane will grant you one wish. They are popular wedding gifts.
Here is the largest temple. Many people were doing the ritual dancing, clapping their hands and making a donation.
Isn't it fun just to look at? Temples as ornate as this might be 800 years old. Imagine building this without power tools.
This is the stage of an old Noh theater. Plays are still held here on special occasions.
Now, you might be wondering where the Golden Temple is. "Where are the pictures of that, Nate?" you might be asking. I have a confession to make. I don't have any pictures of it. Cameras weren't allowed inside. I took a picture of the building that houses the golden temple though. Will that do?
Yeah, it's kind of a letdown. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, when we visited it was later in the afternoon. You had to buy a ticket to see the museum and the temple. I asked how much it was. About ten dollars. I paid for Kelli and I and as the lady handed the tickets to me she said everything closed at 5:00. It was 4:46. It would've been nice to know before we paid. So if you feel bamboozled because there aren't any pictures of the Golden Temple, at least you didn't pay twenty bucks for a 15 minute look at this blog post.
My favorite thing about seeing temples and shrines is the woodwork.
The inside of that temple looked like this. Having seen other temples, I can tell you that this is what the often look like inside. They are crowded with statues and incense holders. The box in the lower left corner is the donation box.
The two pictures above are separate buildings. The thatched roofs are still around. Only in the past twenty or thirty years have they been largely replaced by metal and tile, or so I was told. I'm pretty sure the chicken wire is a more modern innovation though.
This is a string of a thousand paper cranes. Tradition holds that if you fold a thousand paper cranes, the crane will grant you one wish. They are popular wedding gifts.
Here is the largest temple. Many people were doing the ritual dancing, clapping their hands and making a donation.
Isn't it fun just to look at? Temples as ornate as this might be 800 years old. Imagine building this without power tools.
This is the stage of an old Noh theater. Plays are still held here on special occasions.
Now, you might be wondering where the Golden Temple is. "Where are the pictures of that, Nate?" you might be asking. I have a confession to make. I don't have any pictures of it. Cameras weren't allowed inside. I took a picture of the building that houses the golden temple though. Will that do?
Yeah, it's kind of a letdown. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, when we visited it was later in the afternoon. You had to buy a ticket to see the museum and the temple. I asked how much it was. About ten dollars. I paid for Kelli and I and as the lady handed the tickets to me she said everything closed at 5:00. It was 4:46. It would've been nice to know before we paid. So if you feel bamboozled because there aren't any pictures of the Golden Temple, at least you didn't pay twenty bucks for a 15 minute look at this blog post.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Shaking Things Up
No matter how big of a transition you go through in life, at some point things begin to seem normal. After packing up and moving to Japan, it only took four months for things to begin to feel settled. I thought I was finding a nice routine. I felt confident I could handle daily situations.
Then I got pulled over by the police. It was after ten o'clock at night. I was driving home from a nearby town. I saw police lights on the bridge and figured there must be an accident. Nope. It was a random checkpoint. The police minivan was parked in the middle lane of the bridge and six police with glow in the dark wands waved me down.
I pulled into the center lane. A policeman came to my window and started asking me questions. In Japanese. In very, very fast Japanese. I gave him my Foreigner Registration Card and American driver's license. Then I remembered my International Drivers Permit and gave that to him as well.
There is a very interesting, and very silly flaw in International Driver's Permits. On the front, in minuscule letters, it says "This International Driver's Permit is valid from:" Underneath that line, the date that you paid for the permit is hand written in. You might be wondering how this is a flaw. Let's role play.
You are an English speaking policeman and you pull over a Chinese person. You don't speak a word of Chinese. The Chinese man doesn't speak much English. He hands you his permit, written all in Chinese. You can make out the numbers in a familiar format 2/10/2010. That looks like February tenth, 2010. It is now August. That International Driver's Permit looks expired.
Yeah, that's what happened. Thankfully, I remembered how to say "From such-and-such date to such-and-such date" and tried to explain. It at least prompted the second policeman (who came up because things were taking too long with me) to go get a dictionary.
After an agonizing 15 minutes of trying to understand Japanese for me, and an agonizing 15 minutes of trying to communicate with a foreigner for the policeman, he decided to let me go.
If you ever travel abroad it is absolutely worth driving legally. I don't suggest trying to get by without a license or permit. If I had done anything wrong, I can't imagine how things would've turned out.
Sometimes things begin to seem familiar. Life has a way of shaking things up.
Then I got pulled over by the police. It was after ten o'clock at night. I was driving home from a nearby town. I saw police lights on the bridge and figured there must be an accident. Nope. It was a random checkpoint. The police minivan was parked in the middle lane of the bridge and six police with glow in the dark wands waved me down.
I pulled into the center lane. A policeman came to my window and started asking me questions. In Japanese. In very, very fast Japanese. I gave him my Foreigner Registration Card and American driver's license. Then I remembered my International Drivers Permit and gave that to him as well.
There is a very interesting, and very silly flaw in International Driver's Permits. On the front, in minuscule letters, it says "This International Driver's Permit is valid from:" Underneath that line, the date that you paid for the permit is hand written in. You might be wondering how this is a flaw. Let's role play.
You are an English speaking policeman and you pull over a Chinese person. You don't speak a word of Chinese. The Chinese man doesn't speak much English. He hands you his permit, written all in Chinese. You can make out the numbers in a familiar format 2/10/2010. That looks like February tenth, 2010. It is now August. That International Driver's Permit looks expired.
Yeah, that's what happened. Thankfully, I remembered how to say "From such-and-such date to such-and-such date" and tried to explain. It at least prompted the second policeman (who came up because things were taking too long with me) to go get a dictionary.
After an agonizing 15 minutes of trying to understand Japanese for me, and an agonizing 15 minutes of trying to communicate with a foreigner for the policeman, he decided to let me go.
If you ever travel abroad it is absolutely worth driving legally. I don't suggest trying to get by without a license or permit. If I had done anything wrong, I can't imagine how things would've turned out.
Sometimes things begin to seem familiar. Life has a way of shaking things up.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Christopher Columbus
We recently had dinner with a social studies teacher and his family. They were a wonderful, warm family and we had a great time.
Halfway through dinner, we mentioned that we had visited Chusonji, a 20x20 temple that is gold plated inside and out with golden statues inside. It is one of the most famous sights in our region and is only a short drive from our house.
The social studies teacher got excited and asked us if we knew why Christopher Columbus discovered America. We said we didn't. He went to the map on his wall (only a social studies teacher has a world map on their dining room wall). When Marco Polo traveled in Asia, he heard of the temple made of pure gold in northern Japan. Marco Polo never saw it, but he passed word of its existence on when he returned to Europe.
Christopher Columbus heard about it. As we all know Christopher Columbus was trying to go to India. According to Japanese history, he thought he would stop over in Japan and see the Golden Temple and resupply before heading on to India. Alas, he bumped into the West Indies and discovered a landmass covering two continents that Europe hadn't found yet.
So, according to a Japanese social studies teacher, Christopher Columbus discovered America because he was trying to get to northern Japan.
Who knew?
Halfway through dinner, we mentioned that we had visited Chusonji, a 20x20 temple that is gold plated inside and out with golden statues inside. It is one of the most famous sights in our region and is only a short drive from our house.
The social studies teacher got excited and asked us if we knew why Christopher Columbus discovered America. We said we didn't. He went to the map on his wall (only a social studies teacher has a world map on their dining room wall). When Marco Polo traveled in Asia, he heard of the temple made of pure gold in northern Japan. Marco Polo never saw it, but he passed word of its existence on when he returned to Europe.
Christopher Columbus heard about it. As we all know Christopher Columbus was trying to go to India. According to Japanese history, he thought he would stop over in Japan and see the Golden Temple and resupply before heading on to India. Alas, he bumped into the West Indies and discovered a landmass covering two continents that Europe hadn't found yet.
So, according to a Japanese social studies teacher, Christopher Columbus discovered America because he was trying to get to northern Japan.
Who knew?
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Kin Ball
Today I had the opportunity to play Kin Ball (FYI, the link has really annoying music. Mute if you are at work). By the way "Kin" is pronounced like the word "keen."
Kin ball was invented in Canada. There are three teams of four people and one huge ball, slightly heavier than a beach ball. The teams each wear different colored jerseys. We will call the teams, black, pink and grey. To start, three members of the black team hold up the ball. The fourth member yells, "Omnikin PINK" and hits the ball. The pink team has to catch the ball before it hits the ground. If they catch it, three people hold it while the fourth yells "Omnikin Black" or "Omnikin Grey" and hits the ball.
Scoring happens when a team makes a mistake. If the pink team doesn't catch the ball, the black and grey teams get a point. If pink tries to catch it and the ball goes out of bounds, the other teams get a point. If black is the team hitting the ball and they knock it out of bounds, the other two teams get a point. It created some fun strategy, as you wanted to call out the name of the team with the highest score and hope they failed.
It is a super goofy game, but it is a blast to play. Being six feet tall I had a big advantage. I could catch the ball without help and I could really hit the ball. My teammates, some of them barely five feet tall, had to work together to catch the ball by bouncing it up in the air until a fellow teammate could assist.
I jumped right into the rules of the game, but now I'll explain the schedule of events.
After school, all of the teachers from our school and two nearby elementary schools all gathered at the local recreation center. I only knew that we were supposed to play this game for two hours. Not so, my friends, not so.
The first twenty minutes were spent sitting on the gym floor while all the people in charge introduced themselves and the referees. Japanese people are highly organized. When we sat down, we all sat in a grid, in defined columns and rows. After twenty minutes of introductions and explaining the rules it was time to stretch. We all quickly spread out--staying in a grid-- and stretched. After five minutes of stretching we all squeezed back together for more talking. Finally, after half an hour it was time to play. We all broke up into groups of six or eight people from each school and one group from each school went to one of the five courts.
We played for ten minutes at a time. It was hilarious fun. No one rolled their eyes or lolly gagged. We all gave 100%, from the 25 year olds to the 60 year olds. Ladies were diving under a four foot ball, unwilling to let it hit the ground. Odinarily dignified social studies teachers were nearly giddy with excitement and enthusiasm. What a blast.
I mentioned before I had a height advantage and my team didn't want me to sit out. I came very, very close to getting a very unfortunate nickname. Mr. Kinubaru. Please, oh please, when Monday rolls around, may that nickname not be spoken in the teachers' room. If Mr. Kinubaru caught on I'd never know if anyone was talking to me.
Kin ball was invented in Canada. There are three teams of four people and one huge ball, slightly heavier than a beach ball. The teams each wear different colored jerseys. We will call the teams, black, pink and grey. To start, three members of the black team hold up the ball. The fourth member yells, "Omnikin PINK" and hits the ball. The pink team has to catch the ball before it hits the ground. If they catch it, three people hold it while the fourth yells "Omnikin Black" or "Omnikin Grey" and hits the ball.
Scoring happens when a team makes a mistake. If the pink team doesn't catch the ball, the black and grey teams get a point. If pink tries to catch it and the ball goes out of bounds, the other teams get a point. If black is the team hitting the ball and they knock it out of bounds, the other two teams get a point. It created some fun strategy, as you wanted to call out the name of the team with the highest score and hope they failed.
It is a super goofy game, but it is a blast to play. Being six feet tall I had a big advantage. I could catch the ball without help and I could really hit the ball. My teammates, some of them barely five feet tall, had to work together to catch the ball by bouncing it up in the air until a fellow teammate could assist.
I jumped right into the rules of the game, but now I'll explain the schedule of events.
After school, all of the teachers from our school and two nearby elementary schools all gathered at the local recreation center. I only knew that we were supposed to play this game for two hours. Not so, my friends, not so.
The first twenty minutes were spent sitting on the gym floor while all the people in charge introduced themselves and the referees. Japanese people are highly organized. When we sat down, we all sat in a grid, in defined columns and rows. After twenty minutes of introductions and explaining the rules it was time to stretch. We all quickly spread out--staying in a grid-- and stretched. After five minutes of stretching we all squeezed back together for more talking. Finally, after half an hour it was time to play. We all broke up into groups of six or eight people from each school and one group from each school went to one of the five courts.
We played for ten minutes at a time. It was hilarious fun. No one rolled their eyes or lolly gagged. We all gave 100%, from the 25 year olds to the 60 year olds. Ladies were diving under a four foot ball, unwilling to let it hit the ground. Odinarily dignified social studies teachers were nearly giddy with excitement and enthusiasm. What a blast.
I mentioned before I had a height advantage and my team didn't want me to sit out. I came very, very close to getting a very unfortunate nickname. Mr. Kinubaru. Please, oh please, when Monday rolls around, may that nickname not be spoken in the teachers' room. If Mr. Kinubaru caught on I'd never know if anyone was talking to me.
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