Zombie Typing 101

When I first saw it, I thought it was the worst game idea ever:

The top of that reads ‘TYPING of the DEAD.’  I couldn’t help laughing out loud You play an agent who wears a pack, typing the zombies and undead demons to death.  Yes, while you look cool with a trench coat and sunglasses,  you carry a keyboard throughout the cut scenes. You sit and type as words pop up under enemies.

Ridiculous.  Yet, I put a coin.  I had ridiculous amounts of fun, seemingly transported back to junior high typing class.  Zombies and winged demons groaned and exploded to the might of my type [ing].  As I felt the carpal tunnel burn, words become more complicated and unfamiliar [all the words are Japanese], and my agent fell to the forces of evil.  Alas, my typing skills were not mad enough to save the world.  I’ll remember that when the zombie apocalypse comes.

Why does this make me laugh so much?

School daze…

The post all my friends have been waiting for:  elementary school adventures.  The moment people found out I was teaching elementary school – hilaried emails, jocular chats, and chuckled phone calls were my gifts.  Today, you get one story:

Between classes there is a 10 minute break in which children run while, chasing each other and playing games.  Often, this is unsupervised by any teacher.  Typically, I am ignored or greeting with fly-by ‘hellos.’  Today, I began to write on the board [every class begins with the date, day, and weather in English].  I feel a bump against my buttocks.  Not unusual, kids run into me all the time.  I feel it again with a definite smack feeling.  I peer over my shoulder to find a little child, complete with glasses, smacking my bottom.  I continue to look at him and he says something in Japanese.  I say, ‘What?’ To which he looks at me, shouts ‘OH MY GOD’ and smacks my bottom with the fervor of a fat man eating pie.  One final smack with a karate-like battle cry and the little one was off on a new adventure.

Oh…there is more to com, just you wait…

Obon

Today is the end of Obon in Okinawa, a sort of Japanese ‘Day of the Dead’ festival that lasts about 3 days [mainland Japan finished theirs a while back, but Okinawa runs on the Lunar calendar].  The festival, like many around the world, has come to center primarily on the gathering of family.  The ancestors are suppose to come and visit, which is why you aren’t allowed to swim in the ocean on this day [the dead apparently come from the sea].  Families put out food and lanterns to greet their dead relatives.

This isn’t a massive festival event but it got me thinking about my ancestors and how lonely they probably get.  The origin of Obon, according to the ever correct wikipedia, comes from a Buddhist disciple named Mokuren.  Using his awesome meditation powers, he looked in on his dead mother in the afterlife.  Seeing she was in the Realm of Hungry Ghosts, Mokuren was understandably upset.  He made sacrifices and his ghost mom’s situation got better.  Then, he did a happy dance.

Never have I done a happy dance for my dead relatives.  I don’t set food out for them, offer burnings, or even really acknowledge they exist.  I feel like we talk a lot about our dead loved ones watching from above, but never do we seem do anything to honor them or have celebrations for them.  I have a feeling when I get to the great beyond, I’m going to be met by some unhappy elders.

In Okinawa, the end of the festivities is marked with an Eisa dance.  Dressed traditionally, bands travel around side streets dancing and banging drums.  You can hear them from blocks away.  Here are some pics:

Homophobic Tea

Yesterday, I became a little parched as we hurled balls down lanes.  At the vending machine, I was met by this little gem, ‘Straight Tea.’  Perfect for the manly man who has been playing with balls.  While you think it might be ‘plain tea,’ just poorly translated – this cha was quite sweet.  When I offered it to one of my gay friends, she simply scoffed and said, ‘No no, I don’t want any part of that. Wouldn’t want to take any chances, ya know?’

Inky

Sorry for the lapse in postings.  The noodle, when properly prepared, is a minor delight.  I think before I came to Hong Kong and Asia-at-large, I was a little blase about the doughy-wheaty-squiggly foodstuff.  Now, my excitement occasionally borders on frothing.  Recently, at a local ramen shop, I discovered squid ink ramen.  Myth informed me that the dish could potentially turn your teeth black, which simply would make my day.  Alas, this did not happen.  Not so much as even a shade of difference.

But, what I did discover is that squid ink is a delight.  It has a mildly grainy texture and a slight odor.  It adds a vibrant and striking color contrast to the soup base and noodle.  The soup and ramen was finger-scraping-bowl good.  Some major excitement even without the colored teeth:

Cape Maeda

This weekend was lovely, so we headed on down to Cape Maeda to snorkel.  First we had to get me some sea shoes, so I wouldn’t shred my feet on rock.  Now, I’m sporting some bright yellow awesomeness on my feet.  On to the cape:  There are island moments that are ridiculously lovely and surreal, and Cape Maeda holds such moments.  I set up the beach umbrella and bounded off into the water with my camera.  Shu Lan came wandering by about 20 or so minutes later telling me to be careful of the sea urchins.  Only at this moment do I realize that I am surrounded by purple spiny monsters.  Of course, every step from this point forward was filled with mild terror – despite my jubilant and childlike joy before.  Once we got far enough out to swim, bright colored fish and otherworldly plants greeted us.  We had some mild issues with leaky masks but it was still fantastic.  That is, until we had to walk back home through the minefield of urchin.  Thankfully, there were no problems.

Purple typhoons…

My first typhoon in Japan was a half-miss today.  Primarily, we got rain last night and today winds flew like punches.  While I was running, I was surprised at the ease and decided to travel farther.  When I turned around, I realized why the run had been so easy out.  Wind nearly pushed me off the sidewalk and limbs of trees swatted at me.  I swore that each jog forward actually carried me backwards a small amount.  Tonight, however, we were rewarded with one of the most beautiful skies I’ve seen in a long time.  Purple typhoon clouds:

メキシコパーティ！[Mexico Party!]

Yesterday, we received some refried beans from some military friends who are shipping out.  With lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cheese, and beans – the only thing missing was some flour or corn tortillas.  Rough day – the local Japanese store doesn’t really stock this provision. I’ve only made tortillas once before and that was with lard.  Lard is harder to find than tortillas. Still, inspiration was not to be stopped.  Armed with an internet recipe [which I highly recommend, the recipe is at the bottom], the first batch was a little wonky.  By the second batch, though, Shu had woken from a nap and was ready to roll out some torts.  The result, delicious mexicanarific party in Japan!

Warning

Don’t swim here or the mud hands will feel you.