Interview at Kafkaesque, Inc.

News on the job hunt: a couple of Fridays ago I decided to stop in at my local branch of AEON (which stands for Alternate Education...Or...Not?). AEON is one of the bigger-name eikaiwas, which are private conversation schools that are scattered all through urban Japan, mostly right around train stations so busy sarariimen can stop on the way home and pick up a loaf of bread and some English lessons.

I'm a little worried about the prospect of working at an eikaiwa, as pretty much the only things they're known for are 1. being depressing as hell to work at and 2. going bankrupt. "How bankrupt?", you may ask. So bankrupt that Japanese cell phone companies now make gaijin sign huge, scary contracts that stipulate that the phone company basically gets money from us forever and ever, cross our hearts and hope to die. This is to make sure that we don't do something inconsiderate like be forced to leave the country if our eikaiwa folds.

Still, what else do I have to do during the day? I'd seen posters for AEON put up throughout the nearest big train station...sure, I couldn't actually read anything on the poster, but I recognized the name and the picture of a white guy in a suit. How hard could it be to find, right [/foreshadowing]?

I put on my suit, took the trek to the Internet cafe, printed out my resume, and (4 HOURS LATER) decided to go about finding this place. I asked the smiley employee at one of the local information kiosks, in my best Japanese, "AY-ON AEKAYWA, DOKO DESU KA?" She clearly had no idea what I meant. I repeated the words in varying intonations and with a medley of gestures and nonsensical pantomimes, she brought in the other employees at the information kiosk...no good. She was able to point me in the direction of a different eikaiwa that I had already applied at, so I considered that success enough and thanked her, backing away as quickly as I could.

Disheartened, I started walking in a random direction so the info ladies could see that I had somewhere important to be and wasn't just walking in a random direction. Happily, I stumbled upon another information kiosk, where I repeated my performance. This time, I must have mimed "conversation school" better, because the lady not only pointed me in the right direction (somewhere on this block, just past the Starbucks), but she corrected my pronunciation of "Aeon"*.

My suit now dripping in sweat, I circled the block in question a few times before I finally saw a sign that seemed to indicate that Aeon shared a building with a huge arcade/pachinko parlor. I gave it a try (see earlier "nothing else to do all day" comment), and sure enough, signs indicated that Aeon was on the 7th floor. Jackpot! Relieved that I'd finally found it, I strolled into the elevator, pushed 7, and...nothing happened. Nothing lit up, nothing moved. So, I applied all of my critical thinking skills to the situation, and pushed the button a ton more times. Then I tried another elevator, with the same results. I began to notice a pattern.

In desperation, I pushed "6," figuring that, hey, 6 is closer to 7 than 1 is...maybe I could yell really loud or scale the side of the building or something. At any rate, 6 lit up and took me to an empty hallway with official-looking signs everywhere. Figuring I was as close as I would ever get, I stopped in the bathroom, got out my resume, combed my hair, had a breathmint, and steeled my nerves. Not like it mattered; the elevator still wouldn't take me up any further.

Again in desperation, I tried a door on the 6th floor that had a picture of stairs on it. You can imagine my relief when the door opened to the stairwell. Ah, now I was getting somewhere!

I hiked up to the 7th floor (mussing up my hair and sweating up my suit even more), put on my best, most genki smile, and opened the door. Wait, no, I didn't. It was locked. So, in fact, was the door to the 6th floor. See diagram.

The stairwell at the Aeon/Pachinko Co, Ltd.

Laughing in glee at my hilarious misadventure ("Ha ha!" were my exact words), I tried every successive door on each floor, noticing that I was the only one on this stairwell. The one on the 1st floor opened, giving me hope that I might escape death by starvation/panic attack yet. I found myself at some kind of boiler room/office where some 6 or 7 bejumpsuited men were congregating for reasons I will never know. I summoned up my best Japanese and explained carefully, "AEON EIKAIWA?"

They asked me if I was a teacher. Having caught on that certain things might have to be sacrificed to reach my goal (like the truth), I told them that I was. They said a lot of things, mostly involving the word "yasumi," meaning break. I nodded enthusiastically, telling them that, yes, I was a teacher on break. Why else would I have been hanging out in my suit in the stairwell? Ha ha!

One of them finally took me to the same elevator that I had used. He pushed "7," giving me a nice opportunity for a smug (if bitter) smile when nothing happened. He spoke into a walkie-talkie for a minute or so, though, and sure enough, the elevator took us up to the 7th floor. All the lights were off, and there was a big steel shutter over the only door in the hallway (in retrospect, the shutter does seem a little unnecessary in the way of security). On the shutter was a small piece of paper that seemed to explain that Aeon was on summer break until Monday.

I gave the guy as harmless a laugh as I could, going for expressing something like, "Ha ha! Wow, I must've just forgot that the school where I work is on vacation! What a hilarious misunderstanding!" Neither of us spoke in the long elevator ride back down.

Epilogue: I returned on Monday, again in my suit, this time with the bitter confidence of knowing that this experience couldn't possibly be any more frustrating than the previous Friday (in case it was, I came prepared with a cyanide capsule). The school was open, but a young guy explained to me that they didn't deal with applications there, that I should go to their website if I wanted to apply.

I swear to god I heard a sad-trombone "Wah wah wah" at that point.

* It bears mentioning that I ran a three-year ongoing RPG campaign that prominently featured the word "Aeon." Yes, people corrected me then, too...pretty much every week. Gorram it.

Adventures in Language Acquisition

The aforementioned "neighbors upstairs" who have lent us a variety of household goods have done their best to help us improve our pathetically scant Japanese. Most of the materials they've lent us have been of some use, though all but the children's books were designed to teach English to a native speaker of Japanese. As such, our erstwhile study materials are littered with hilarious little inexplicable dialogues and non sequiturs (mostly in a "why the hell would someone need to know how to say this in English" sense). One book, in particular, bears repeating on the Internet:

Entries range from the hilariously bodily…

• “Don’t pull the hair out of your nose in public.”
• “She is balloon-breasted.”
• “I have a boil on my bottom.”
• “Your hair is dirty. You are filthy.”
• At least three full pages on shit. It starts innocuously: “May I use the restroom?” But it ends up discussing tumors, “mucous [tarry] stool,” the mysterious “Constipation causes rough skin,” and the ever-useful “There is some shit near the utility pole” (or if that’s unclear, there’s also “There is some crap near the utility pole”).

To the bizarre…

• One section, apparently about hands, includes “I like fortune telling” and “He is a prophet.”
• “My legs are thin” progresses to “My beard is thick” to “The plot thickens.”
• A section on health and dieting: “Skeleton” -> “Skeleton in my closet” -> “He found a skeleton in the basement” -> “He found a mummy in the basement.”
• “Your face is talking to me.”
• “There is a pantry in the basement.”

To the strangely poetic:

• “Hurry up! We are short of time. There is a shortage of food.”
• “Please turn on the heater. Please turn off the heater. Please turn down the heater. Please turn up the heater. What turns you on?”
• “Horses are herbivorous. Sheep are herbivores. Humans are omnivorous. God is omnipotent.”

And you have to wonder if a student of English is in over their head if they still need to use a guidebook at this point:

• “You were snoring last night. You snored last night. I can’t take your snoring any more.”
• “Western civilization is different from Eastern civilization. They are savage. They are brutal.”

Happy first blog post about hilarious Engrish, everybody! Let's savor the moment, shall we? Mmmmmm...

Internet update: we've applied for Internet via a company called "Broadband Apply" that came recommended from someone here in Osaka. They're slow, self-contradictory, and frustrating, but at least they speak English! Also, as far as I can tell, "Broadband Apply" is made up entirely of a guy called "Jimmie J. Jenkins," which is by far the made-uppiest name I have ever heard. And remember, I was president of the TSU RPG Club, so I've heard some fairly unbelievable names.

Anyway, we've been told that the Internet will be set up sometime around September 2-10. That's right, only another week and a half until I can no longer blame others for failing to blog regularly!

Blog Post Goes Here

OK, I'm not just going to post on this blog to say "Sorry that I don't post more often." That's not only unbearably lame, it's tremendously cliched, too. And you, the reader, deserve better.

What's more, blogging about how blogging about not posting often enough is also a cliche. As is blogging about blogging about blogging...OK, I think my point is clear.

That said, it turns out that getting one's Internet hooked up in Japan is a tremendous pain in the した. I had assumed that I could just plug my brain directly into the Info-Port in my apartment and access the Information Omni-Net Cyber-Mind by thinking about it real hard. Sadly, for all of the unnecessarily advanced technology that seems to be omnipresent over here (see Jenn's post on super-toilets, for instance), the Internet hook-up process seems to date back to the Middle Ages. I mean, really, Japan? Three forms of ID?

We've put together blog fodder (blflogbder, as the kids like to say) aplenty in the meantime, and will be updating with slightly more regularity once the Internet company has cleared our passports, visas, bank accounts, skin samples, genomes, and elementary school permanent records. Next Friday at the earliest, sometime shortly after we die of old age at the latest.

In the meantime, here is a hilarious picture for you all, as well as As to a few FAQs:

(Subtitle: 「It is Random Old Guy, returned from his thousand-year slumber! We must flee!」)

A: No, we did not get hit by an earthquake, typhoon, or Mothra in Osaka. It rained a little.
A: It is extremely hot in Osaka in the summer.
Follow-up A: So hot, our chess set burst into flames.
A: Our upstairs neighbors are lovely. So far, they have given us a fan, a cake, a DVD, and many free Japanese lessons (largely via children's books).
Follow-up A: Eric Carl's epic Brown Bear, Brown Bear loses nothing in translation.
A: Octopus is f'ing delicious. If you think to pass judgment on that statement, I would like to direct your attention to Jimmy Dean's Frozen Chocolate Chip Pig-In-A-Blanket On A Stick, sold in supermarkets across 'Merica.

This just in!

Sorry for the unfortunate lack of updates, but until we manage to get our Internet hooked up at the new place, we won't really be able to say very much. Look for consistent updates starting next week. Thanks, people of the Internet!

Sneak preview: so what's the deal with the three alphabets? Am I right, people? Huh? Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about!