While I was pretty jazzed and excited about my great steal of a deal, I wanted to have the Japanese release of the DVDs, complete with Japanese subtitles and Japanese dubbing.  Yes, I know, this is a bit specifically obsessive and weird, but I thought that rewatching this series that I love in another language that I am studying would be like killing two birds with one stone.  On weeknights when I end up watching eight episodes in a row non-stop, I wouldn’t be retreating into my own little English sci-fi nerd world, I would be retreating into my own Japanese sci-fi nerd world.

However, the Japanese releases were going for anywhere from 8,000 yen to 15,000 yen per season, used.  Not affordable.  Well, last week, I came across an auction that had ALL seven seasons of DS9, which included Japanese subtitles and dubbed dialogue.  Only 10,000 yen.  I bid on it without thinking.  On the auction page, this was the only image of the box set:

At the time, I realized that it was sort of odd for there to be a set containing all seven seasons of DS9 in a single box, and that it was weird for it to say “Star Trek 4″ underneath the main title.  After all, DS9 is the third Star Trek series, and the term “Star Trek 4″ typically refers to the movie Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, starring the original cast.

Today, I received the DVD set.  Picking it up at the post office, I was at first confused what I had even received.  It had been shipped from China.  It took me a while to realize that inside were the DVDs I had ordered.  I became suspicious.  Arriving at home, I opened up the package, looked at the front – same as the image on the auction page.  I then looked at the spine of the box set, and realized that what I had ordered, paid for, and received, was an authentic Chinese knockoff.  “SEASON TNG 1-7 STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE 4, 48 DVD SET.”  Great.

My spirits sunk.  I had been ripped off.  Or had I?  Reading the atrocious English on the back of the box (which was funnier knowing that it had probably been simply transcribed badly, not composed badly) lifted my spirits.  Even the main image of the cast was wrong, superimposed over an image from Star Trek: First Contact, a TNG movie.

While the top title was grammatically and punctually correct, the rest was far from it.  As you can see, it lists

OVER AN HOUR AND A HALF OF BRAND-NEW FEATURERRES:

TRIALS AND TRIBBLE-ATIONS: UNITING TWO LEGENOS- Traces the origins of the episode with Ira steven benkc,the cast guest stars and willters.

TRIALS AND TRIBBLE-ATIONS: A HISTORIC ENDEAVOR-Examines the techincal challenges of”forrest gumoing”the episod.Features interviews with Ira sleven Beht,Rick Berman. Herman Zimmerman,plus the visual effects leam

CREW DOSSIER:MILES O’BRIEN-A prafile of Colm Meanry’s character from The Next Generalion to DS9,featuriing interiews with castaand crew.

INSIDE DS9 WITH MIKE DKUDA-The veleran graphic artist takes us on a speclal tour of the promenade and reveals hidden jokes seen throughout the station.

MICHAEL WESTMORE’S ALIENS-Includes a look at cast members becoming klingons,the jem”Hadar and other races.

PHOTO GALLERY

special feahures not Rated

It seems liked it had almost been scanned from the original box and run through OCR software.  It’s also strange that the contents described are actually from the season 5 disc only.  What a mix up.

Well, this might all be amusing, but I worried that this would be a pile of junk.  Ok, it is a pile of junk, but would it play?

The first disc that I put in started rattling so badly that I became afraid it would damage the drive.  I did a quick hard shutoff and ejected the disc as the boot process began.  Tried another disc, and it worked fine.  The video quality is… lesser than.  But the Japanese subtitles and dubbing are all there.  I think that I will buy a cheap, cheap DVD player to play these in, rather than my new MacBook Pro.

Moral of the story: Watch out where you buy your Japanese DS9 DVD collections!

One of the nice things about the Saroma AET house was the deck that Hiram built about 10 years ago.  Unfortunately, all of the decking wood except the posts were untreated wood, and over 10 winters of snowfall, giant plowed snowmounds, and their successive melting, the deck became pretty well rotted to bits.  Intending to complete its replacement last summer, I tore the whole thing out. When I realized that most of the wood, while perhaps salvageable for other purposes, wasn’t nice enough to reuse in parts of the deck, I sort of put the project on hold.  My budget estimates put the cost of lumber alone anywhere from 25,000 to 80,000 yen, depending on how much of the deck was to be treated wood, and how large I was going to rebuild it.

A winter passed with no deck, and the old boards continued to take up space in my shed.  Well, after returning to Saroma from a much needed traipse through Alaska, I finally put my nose to it.  I bought lumber from three different sources (very limited supplies) and hauled it all in my Nissan March.  I decided to rebuild the deck more or less as Hiram had originally built it – 6′x6′ square, with a simple 2′x8″ base of treated stringers, and 2′x6″ untreated decking boards, with a fair reconstruction of the situationally functional but probably not to code staircase.  The fact that none of the stringers or decking boards had to be cut made this deck size seem even nicer.

So, over a week, working for a few hours each day I managed to stain all of the wood and assemble the whole thing, including the staircase, without much more than an iPhone level, a tape measure, and a drill.  Ok, so I did borrow a circular saw from a neighbor.  My point is that any professional carpenter would strongly disapprove of my methods.  Anyway, building the deck itself was a good learning and social experience.  One afternoon so many people stopped by to say hi and see what I was doing, that I hardly made any progress.

The old deck before I tore it out last July:

And the new improved deck I finished up last weekend.  Photo links to a larger gallery of deck glamour shots.

Wait, I think I’m talking about Russia, a little further north.

Saroma is actually quite accessible, with well-maintained roads, punctual trains and affordable air connections.  It’s still a little far away from happenin’ Tokyo and hip Sapporo, and that’s why I consider myself lucky to have received numerous drop-ins over the 19 months I have lived here: Hannah and Yoshi; Ilkka and Petri; Natsuko; Remmington; Jon; Roxy and Daisy, and two weeks ago, Mike and Alissa.

I’ve known Mike and Alissa for about as long as I’ve been able to sentiently know other beings.  Alissa and I were consistent and reliable line leaders in Mrs. Butler’s 2nd grade class at Swanson Elementary.  Mike and I created several award-winning high school video masterpieces.

While they are both intrepid travelers like myself, they couldn’t speak or read a lick of the Japanese language.  This usually isn’t a problem with visitors; Japan itself is safe and efficient, the people friendly and honest.  However, Alissa and Mike became hooked on the idea of taking a ferry to Hokkaido.  Even after explaining that a ferry and bus would take twenty times longer than a plane, cost nearly twice as much and me three times as complicated, they just couldn’t shake the romantic notion of travel by ship.

Alas, I couldn’t resist either, so on March 19th, I flew down to Tokyo to meet these two friends and show them the way back.  They had already chocked up an impressive list of adventures in Tokyo, causing me to wonder if they really needed any guidance.  The next day we boarded the ferry and settled into a 19-hour sea journey to Hokkaido.  There is something magical about ferries, something unique and especially exciting about setting off on a journey across the ocean.  You are departing the safe surface of land and entering a world with a new set of rules.  You pass by nothing familiar, you make no frequent stops, yet you are still part of the earth, with room to breathe, stretch.  On most forms of transportation, you board, get on, ride.  On a ferry, you truly embark.

It was certainly comforting to travel with friends who shared my nostalgia for ocean-going travel, and we quickly made use of the spacious and relaxing accommodation with a few cheap beers on deck as we left port.  Mike came up with a game then that became quite popular with children in our cabin.  Simply, the goal was to stand with both feet together and see who could remain standing for the longest.  At first, it was far too easy.  But by the next morning, as we passed the eastern mouth of the Tsugaru Strait, the seas had heightened to make the game much more interesting.

Interesting, and sickening.  Mike and Alissa had to lie down and the baths and outer deck were closed by the crew.  As we approached land after lunch, the ocean calmed, and we soon arrived into Tomakomai Port.  A few hours later we alighted into a snowy Sapporo City.  Mike and Alissa exchanged their Japan Rail passes at the station, in the midst of several thousand travelers stranded by wind and snow delays.  Luckily, we were staying put that evening, in a hotel in Susukino.  We made good use of the location, eating Ramen, playing arcade games, and singing some serious songs at karaoke.

In the morning we boarded a bus to Saroma, and arrived that afternoon, several hours late from the storm.  My girlfriend Yoshie came over that night and helped me introduce Alissa and Mike to their first proper Japanese onsen (hot spring!) experience.  Like many foreigners, they were astonished that something so mundane as bathing can become something as sublime as… bathing.  To paraphrase Mike: “Bathing or showering is normally like a chore.  This is great.”

The next day, Tuesday, marked a day back to work, but as Palmer citizens, Alissa and Mike qualify as work.  After visits to the Town Hall, the Mayor’s office, the Elementary and Junior High Schools, and a hearty school lunch, we strapped into our snowshoes and headed up Horoiwa-yama for a view of Lake Saroma and the Sea of Okhotsk.  Back to the house by five, Alissa and I prepared our ingredients for the evening’s dinner with my English conversation class, and Mike tried to reinterpret the meanings of Chinese kanji characters.  After a successful and delicious class, complete with an impromptu rendition of the Alaska Flag Song, we retired to Kaiko, a local izakaya, to sample some local fare and Japanese sake.  The day had effectively beaten all of us though, and after only a few beers we called it a night.  After all, we had a full day of sightseeing ahead of us the next day.

On Wednesday, after a drive through Bihoro Pass, Kawayu Onsen and Abashiri, the three of us had another dip in the onsen on the lake and then tried our hands at curling in nearby Tokoro.  Mike and Alissa caught on quickly, and we managed to get in a game in the last 20 minutes of our hour ice time.  We only played one end and didn’t keep score but I’d say that Alissa ended up with a clear lead over Mike.  Mike also agreed with me that the Japanese women’s team was by far the most attractive of this year’s Olympic curling teams.

Early the next morning we said goodbye at Engaru station as Mike and Alissa headed toward Hakodate on their Japan Rail passes.  It marked the end of a legendary visit to Saroma by some great friends and great travelers.  From what I’ve heard, the next week of their trip through Hiroshima, Nara, and Tokyo went off without incident or great difficulty.  Both of them are now back to the real world in the wilds of America.

Luckily, Graham, the ALT in Kunneppu Town, and some friends headed up a few weekends ago and I was able to tag along.  The trail follows a summer access road for communications towers at the peak, so is quite gentle with ample switchbacks.  It’s also well hiked (and probably snowmachined as well).  The snow was packed down hard enough for us all to walk without snowshoes all the way to the top.

Looking north into Saroma and the sea.  The bumpy mountain center-right is Mt. Horoiwa.

Now, aside from the quality of the hike, there was one unique thing about Mt. Nikoro that I had heard from Nik, and from other English teacher friends who had hiked it – The Old Man of Mt. Nikoro.  No, he’s not a ghost or someone who will try to scare you off, but an incredibly kind gentleman who hikes the mountain nearly every day of the year.  The man, Mr. Kisaku Sato, is rather famous – the website he keeps about the mountain is the first hit on Google for Nikoro-yama (仁頃山） in Japanese.

Looking toward Rubeshibe town.  The pointy mountain is Kitami-fuji.

We had a late start in the day, and began coming down the mountain as the sun was getting low in the sky, around 3pm.  I thought perhaps we had missed Sato-san, as elderly Japanese people tend to do most things much, much earlier than groups of foreign English teachers.  But, about 1/4 of the way down from the top, there he was!  He seemed quite pleased to see us, and remembered Graham and Aisling from a previous hike.  After pointing out that the two mountains visible to the southeast were in fact Mt. Meakan and Mt. Oakan (Steve thought Mt. Meakan was Mt. Shari – I was right!), he quickly interviewed us, asking our impressions of the mountain, along with our nationality and the towns that we each taught English in.  Then he asked to take our picture for his website and after one shot, he wondered aloud “Aren’t you going to do anything funny like make a face or wave?”  We obliged and he snapped the photo below.  Sato-san put both photos and our profiles up on his site in Japanese on this nice page about our encounter.  I chose Babelfish to translate the page for the benefit of the Japanese-illiterate because it translates Holland written in Japanese into “Hoe land.”  Google translate just messed the whole thing up without any added humor.

The Genki Gaijin Group

It was titled 日本人の知らない日本語（Nihonjin no shiranai nihongo), or “Japanese the Japanese Don’t Know.”  It’s written by and told from the perspective of Nagiko Umino, a Japanese woman and teacher at a Japanese language school for adults in Japan.  The general premise of the book is her constantly encountering and attempting to correct bizarre and unique Japanese usages by her students, while doing her best to answer their specific and sometimes arcane questions about Japanese words and grammar.  The book uses this theme to humorous effect, as well as a device to highlight how much traditional and specific Japanese many Japanese people never encounter day-to-day, and therefore have little to no knowledge of.

"Japanese the Japanese Don't Know"

For example, in one comic strip, Ms. Umino is teaching Japanese counters.  Japanese attaches specific morphemes after numbers when counting nouns of certain classes.  Each class of nouns requires a specific “counter” morpheme to augment the number.  In English, the closest example to this process can be seen in phrases like “two pairs of pants” or “five loaves of bread,” but Japanese is far more complex, to the point of being frustrating for learners.  In this section, she is teaching each form of counter by listing example nouns that can be counted with that counter, yet being flummoxed by students proudly announcing what they believe to be proper uses of the counter.  While teaching the counter -hon, used to count long, cylindrical objects, a Chinese student shouts out “So snakes would be ippon, nihon, sanbon, right?!” Of course, snakes are small, animate creatures, so are therefore counted with -hiki, not -hon, despite being long and cylindrical.

In later chapters the book moves beyond the “Japanese is hard” pattern, and introduces some linguistic history and quizzes designed to stump even well-educated Japanese people.  It’s this section of the book that ceases to be very interesting for the non-Japanese reader – even once one understands the answers, they remain mostly arcane and hard to apply to general language knowledge.

However, some of these sections, if rather dense, provide good insights into why contemporary Japanese, both spoken and written, came to be the way it is today.  One section rather comprehensively looks at all of the hiragana that went by the wayside as a result of post-war writing reform, but can still been seen on the signs of shops and restaurants, and therefore are likely to answer those niggling “Why did I never learn that?” questions a reader might have.

The strength of this book is the mixture of lighthearted, quickly paced humor and clearly presented material.  Its humor strikes a good balance in appreciating the quirkiness of the language that foreign students struggle with, without marginalizing the efforts of foreigners who study Japanese or caricaturing them in predictable ways.  It manages to delve into some rather difficult topics through all of this.  I recommend this book as a fun read for anyone studying Japanese at JLPT level 3 or above who feels like improving reading comprehension, having a laugh, and learning some arcane facts to nonchalantly bring up at their next drinking party.

Amazon.co.jp link here

There is also a sequel out now, Part 2

Here are the numbers, complete with cute clip art, as compiled by the Planning and Finance Department:

One Year in Saroma (2009)

※Water use and alcohol consumption data are current to March 2010. All other data is current to December 2009.

Overall for the calendar year 2009 compared to 2008, Saroma Town has made some improvements! Births are up, deaths are down. Marriages are up, divorces are down. Trash and sewage held fairly steady as did traffic accidents and ambulance calls. Criminal incidents increased from 31 to 40 over the year. Perhaps because of the bad economy? Not so fast – alcohol consumption was down by over four thousand gallons from the year previous – not typically associated with a bad economy. Perhaps people decided they’d rather hold off on the drinks and drive home, rather than get sloshed and take the bus? It’s possible, as bus ridership was down by almost 20%. All in all, no statistical black spots for the town. I’m going to do my part to help out by next year trying to drink a lot more on the bus after fathering a few children and catching a burglar or two. In fact, I think some of those things might be in my contract of employment.

This makes it hard to compare the two towns. Saroma has strictly defined borders, and thus a nearly exact count of population within them. Palmer, on the other hand, might have a defined population within city limits, but a fairly vague number for the greater Palmer area.  It’s this greater area that really should be compared with Saroma.  If one simply looks at the official populations of the two municipalities and makes assumptions from there, it is difficult to see why Palmer has a McDonald’s, a Dairy King, a Taco Bell and two huge supermarkets, but Saroma has no fast food restaurants and only two modest supermarkets.

To help one visualize Saroma and the population density within Saroma that determines these sort of economic factors, I’ve made the following map showing the area and shape of Saroma’s boundaries superimposed over a map of the Palmer area.

Imagine that within that red line, there are 6,002 people.  That is the population density of Saroma.  If the Palmer city limits were this size and shape, I imagine the population would be closer to 15,000.

Some quick facts:

Saroma: 414 km² (156 mi²), Pop. 6,002.

Palmer: 9.7 km² (3.8 mi²), Pop. 8,201 (2008 estimate)

Map data from Google and Yahoo.

added April 12th: Butte centered size comparison map for my mommy.

I found this perspective refreshing and hilarious.  I asked Mike to write down what he thought a kanji should mean, based on what he felt it looked like as a visual representation of meaning.  Here is the short “Kanji Guide” that he created.  Let your mouse pointer rest over the image to reveal the actual meaning of the character.

What do you think?  I’d be curious to see what those of you with little or no knowledge of kanji think, compared to those who do.  I am pretty sure I never could have created this, given the connections I have already made for these ideograms.

Monday, May 31, 2004

Location: Saroma, Japan

I am in Saroma.  I arrived yesterday by train to Engaru station, and was greeted by Yuko Hirouchi, a very nice lady who works at city hall, and Isao and Kotoe Kimura.  They have a very nice car.  Yuko stayed around until about 6 that night, to help the Kimuras and myself get used to each other, as our proficiency with the other’s language is not great.  We chatted and had tea, and then ate dinner.  Mr. Kimura is a fun guy.  He likes golf.  He works for a family business that makes raw material for concrete, something which I doubt Japan will ever stop having a demand for.  They have a very nice house and treated me very well.  We actually ended up having a lot of fun misunderstanding each other last night.  I also took an extremely hot bath.  Today, I went to the preschool, elementary school, and high school.  Heidi Hill, a fellow PHS graduate, is the Assistant Language Teacher here in Saroma.  I met her at city hall and went to the preschool, where I was served coffee, and helped the energetic children learn names of animals and fruit.  Then we went to one of Saroma’s 6 elementary schools, which had only 14 students.  Heidi’s lesson for them was baking brownies, with English instructions.  They turned out OK, considering we used Japanese cherry vinegar and had lots of little hands reaching and spilling and mixing them.  Then I showed them on a map where I had travelled, and some of my photos, although I only got through Tahiti and New Zealand before it was time to eat brownies.

The students had to go back to class, so Heidi and I sat with the Principal and another teacher, I think his name was Kanta.  He had been all over Alaska (more than I have) and Northwest Canada, and spoke good English.  He explained, very clearly, the differences between Japanese and Western thinking concerning individualism and groups.  He pointed out the ordering of Japanese names, with the last name coming first, as well as addresses, with the country name, prefecture name, and town name coming before the actual name and address.  Another wonderful analogy he made involved an imaginary puzzle.  In America’s imaginary puzzle, every person is a puzzle piece, and together, the individual pieces come together to make the image of America.  For Japan, the image is already there, and the Japanese must choose which piece of the puzzle they will be.  I found that beautifully enlightening.

Then I made a quick stop at Saroma High School, and met Yoshida-Sensei, the vice-principal, and an amazingly nice man, with a wonderful and distinct command of English.  He stayed with Paul Morley when he visited Alaska, I believe.  I very much enjoyed meeting him.  He gave Heidi and I a tour of the school, and we met a very friendly girl, Yui, who spoke nice English and had been to Palmer several years before, and had hosted Palmer students.  She knew Sienna Houtte and Emily Estelle.  I told her that they were best friends of mine.  I had my picture taken with Yoshida-Sensei and waved goodbye.

Then I was off to the Mayor’s office.  He asked me how much my trip cost, what my favorite Japanese food was, and we talked about Alaska, with Yuko’s help translating.  He presented me with a gift of Japanese collector’s stamps.  That was my day.  Back at the Kimura’s house, I managed to ask in Japanese to Mrs. Kimura, わたしは、コンピュータができますか？ (watashi wa konpyuuta ga dekimasu ka) which I think means “Can I use the computer.”

As in most of Japan, Saroma’s population includes a large number of senior citizens.  The town Social Education Department organizes a continuing education seminar for these seniors.  This meets twice a month and each session lasts an entire day.  It’s called Kotobuki Daigaku, meaning “Long Life University.”  One daylong session features a morning speaker who addresses the entire group of about 250 members.  After lunch the members break into small groups and focus on more specific topics such as dancing, calligraphy, park golf, personal computing and even karaoke.

For the first session of 2010, I was asked to be the morning speaker, which involved giving a 90 minute lecture entirely in Japanese.  Mr. Abe of the Social Ed. Dept. suggested I talk about Palmer and Saroma as sister cities.  I decided to focus on differences between the history and daily life of the two towns, as well as emphasize some of their similarities and the strong history of the sister city relationship. I also included some personal anecdotes about my impressions of life here in Saroma and how it differs from life back in Alaska.  I also tried to focus on what life is like for senior citizens in Palmer, showcasing some of the options for retirement homes in the Palmer area, and explaining the traditional arrangement between children and their parents regarding aging and caregiving.

Title Screen “Sister Cities: Palmer and Saroma”

Explaining my job (Assistant English Teacher) to the attendees.

I found it rather difficult to imagine what would pique the interests of 250 elderly Saromans.  When comparing Saroma and Palmer, things like population, geographic size and role of government are important but dull and difficult to explain.  Accordingly, I only touched briefly on these areas and instead focused on showing photos and telling a few stories.  I showed photos of Hatcher Pass, prize pumpkins and cabbages, and of my grandparents, Ray and Tiny DePriest.  My description of their 70 year history in Palmer running a dairy and hay farm really captured the audience’s attention.  No doubt many of those listening hold similar experiences of homesteading and rural farming here in Saroma over the past half century.

Thanks to a few anecdotes and personal observations about daily life in Japan and America, a few times the room was full of laughter.  The audience found it very interesting that in Alaska there is no requirement for senior citizens to place special magnets on their cars showing that they are a new or elderly driver.  That the legal driving limit for blood alcohol content is 0.08% also astonished; In Japan, the legal limit is 0.00%.  That we customarily tip at restaurants, have elections on Tuesdays and not Sundays, and build gasoline stations and convenience stores together as part of the same business were also surprising to them.  The fact that it is the students in American schools who move from classroom to classroom, not the teachers as it is in Japan, elicited “oohh” and “eehhh!” from the attendees.  I also had to show them a map and quote some distance figures to convince them that Saroma really is closer to Palmer than Palmer is to New York City or Washington D.C.

“Scenery of Palmer.” Photo taken on Lazy Mountain, Summer 2003.

After running through some photos and basic information about Palmer’s retirement homes and the services of the Palmer Senior Center, I concluded the presentation with a five question quiz, on which the audience scored full marks.  Questions included “Which is the rarest color of aurora?” (red), “Up to how many kilograms can a moose weigh?” (about 800), and “Which of the following are NOT in Palmer: airport, golf course, tennis courts, or hot spring?” (there is no hot spring, unfortunately; this seemed to disappoint the audience as hot springs surround Saroma and are one of the great cultural bounties of Japan).

Hopefully, my presentation made sense. By the good quiz score, I think it did.  The elderly community in Saroma should now be able to talk authoritatively about many aspects of Palmer history and daily life.  It was a good experience to be able to introduce my own town and culture from my peculiar perspective as a resident of Saroma and the Japanese culture.  And I was lucky to have an interested audience, who rarely have the chance to consider things like Alaskan history, American gas stations or the weight of a moose.

Who’s this guy?