After school, riding the train home and chatting with a few other Japanese students was everything I'd been hoping for. To tell the truth, I didn't really know how to break the ice. We talked about the usual things when you first meet someone.
Where are you from? How long have you lived here. etc. Then we moved on to more relevant topics: What is your favorite manga? Whose art do you like best? Things like that. It was a good conversation and real confidence booster that I could communicate relatively trouble free in Japanese.
As it turns out, they were planning on stopping off in Akihabara and wandering around. I had no other plans for the rest of the day so I tagged along with them. I was hoping they would show me some of the sweet back alley stores that I'm sure I missed during my own touristy explorations of the district.
Before I get in to where we went, Akihabara - or Akiba as we call it for short - is exactly what everyone says it is. There's a kind of running joke that the Otaku here call it "Seichi" which literally means "Sacred Land." Everything from games and electronics to manga, anime, figures and cosplay to maid cafes and more (which I have a few funny stories about, but will save for another time) is jam packed into this brightly lit and always busy district. It really has everything your everyday otaku would need.
But I was interested in the hardcore otaku's needs. I was curious, I'll admit, maybe too curios. And definitely not entirely prepared for what came next.
Things started off mainstream. We hit up this great store called "Animate" which, despite its title, is heavily packed with the full gamut of otaku goods. They even have a cosplay floor and a little corner with manga supplies. We all browsed around, talking about what we've read and we'd recommend to those who hadn't. One of my classmates happens to be pretty into the "bishoujo" (which translates to beautiful young girl) genre - the cute girls with huge eyes - and recommended I pick up a few titles. I glanced through them, but to be honest its not really my style.
Still it was interesting to see what everyone recommended, and to hear what they liked about the different styles. It was soon time to move onto our next destination. We start cornering into some of the back alleys and I'm getting excited. Sweet, time for some of the secret shops!
Next on our agenda was a small used-manga shop that specialized in a lot of the old manga that is out of print, along with carrying the new stuff, of course. It was a blast! I got to look through some of the old Shounen Jump releases from 25-30 years ago. Some going back farther. This was some cool stuff and I was really pleased that I got to see it. After picking up a few titles that caught my eye, and again comparing notes with my newly forming friends, it was time to hit up what would be our final destination. This was a place not for the faint of heart.
I was lead down a few more back-streets and into a Doujinshi shop. Doujinshi in America has become somewhat synonymous with pornographic manga, but in fact in Japan this is not always the case. There are many stores that sell Doujinshi that are just basically fanfics of popular manga.
This wasn't one of those. As I walked through the doors, naked figurines of popular anime heroins - posters, rare and/or popular doujinshi decorated the walls. If I had seen my own face as I walked into that store I probably would have laughed pretty damned hard. I must not have caught the bit in the conversation where we decided to check out the porn shop next.
But I gathered myself quickly, after all, they are in the end only drawings. So I kind of follow my classmates' lead. Browsing the isles they browse. My face was probably bright red, and I was trying not to look too closely at anything for the first 5 minutes or so.
Eyes on the ceiling. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the wall- No. OK. Eyes in fron- No. Okay- well, you get the point. I eventually gave up and just decided to not feel self conscious and remember that nobody was staring at me. Well, there were people staring at me, but that's the usual reaction to a foreigner.
As I finally relaxed and tried to join in the conversation, I'd found my classmates comparing which of the dating sims or "Ero-ge" (Erotic Games, read like eroh-gay) they had enjoyed the most. Two of them were totally into it, and to my relief one of them seemed less interested in the whole phenomenon.
I kind of drifted towards him.
But, I still did have a peek at some of the work. I admit I was curious. They had Doujin for so many different famous manga! I was shocked. And tempted to read, to be honest. Ahem, purely for the sake of sating my curiosity, of course. But I resisted.
Still, in the end I suppose I got what I wanted. I saw some of the back-streets of Akiba. Got out of the tourist area and hung with the real otaku culture. Just one of the perks of going to Manga school, I guess!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
First Day
(Disclaimer- This post is looooong and I was too lazy to edit it and split it up)
So I'm heading to my first day of classes! I've got the usual butterflies, going over all of my supplies to make sure I've brought everything:
Pencil and eraser. Check.
Pen and Ink. Check.
Ruler. Check.
Paper. Check.
USB Recording Device. Check.
Yes, that's right. I was so nervous about not understanding what anybody said in class, that I bought a recorder and planned to record and re-listen to the teacher's lectures, etc. as the need arose. On paper, this was a good plan. I was confident it would work. There was no way, my super A+ Recording Plan could fail!
As I entered the classroom and took a random seat, there were pockets of nervous conversation, but mostly silence. I read some One Piece while waiting for the teacher to show up. Once he did, we soon learned that we would have assigned seats for the first half of the year. To make it easier for him to remember our faces and names. Not that I think he would have much trouble picking me out of the crowd. (^_-)
Okay. Since forever, I have been a back-of-the-classroom kind of guy. I just don't like sitting under the teacher's nose. I like having the freedom to space out every once in a while without anyone noticing. Yes, it's not the best habit in the world. But it's how I am, and I can't really help it. Luckily enough, as my name comes towards the latter end of the Japanese alphabet (they arranged me by my first name, since Japanese names are reversed) I got my wish.
So far so good. I've understood the relatively simple Japanese used up to this point (mostly just calling of names and pointing to seats) and was confident and ready for the lesson to begin.
Recorder on.
Aaaand, the teacher starts talking.
Aaaaaaaaand I have no idea what he is saying.
As luck, or irony, would have it, my new teacher was a mumbler. He mumbled all his words into a mush-jargon pile of Japanese that I could barely make any kind of heads or tails of.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Wait. Calm down. I have the recorder. I will probably be able to make out what he's saying later. Things will be okay. I'll be fine.
So I listen and try to understand what he's saying. Its no use! Argh! What to do?!
And then I am saved! Behind me, one student asks another.
"Do you understand what he is saying?"
"Nope."
"Me either."
Yesss! Okay, its not just me. I have a life-line! I wait for the teacher to stop speaking. There's the usual class mumblings and clamor of speech as they are no longer expected to be silent. And as my luck would have it, the two who had no idea what he was saying, called the teacher over and asked him to explain what to do again.
I never listened so hard in my life. This time I would get it for sure. Okay, I understand about half. I got the gist. We are supposed to draw a character, give him some kind of personality and then do a few head shots of him with different expressions. Everybody is busy drawing so I waste no time and set my pencil to the paper.
I decided to draw some lazy teenager sprawled out on a couch who thinks work is annoying and would rather sit around at home doing nothing. The class is given about an hour for this task and when the hour is up, the teacher tells that we are now going to come to the front of the class, show our drawings to everyone and do a brief introduction about ourselves.
Oh great. First day and I'm already doing public speaking. At least I'm near the end of the list. So I have some time to prepare what I'm going to say.
I'm not going to describe everyone that went up there, but let's just say there were some talented people and many - what's a nice way to say this - we'll say "hopeful learners." Not to toot my own horn, I know better than anyone else I still have work to do and room to improve, but some of these students were drawing at a level a lot lower than I originally expected. And, of course, the opposite was true - some of them were amazing.
As my turn came up, I made my way to the front. Put my drawing up on the projector. And started talking.
Translation:
"Hi. I'm David. Um. I'm from New York. Um. (Mind racing furiously) I've been in Japan for two years now. (Crap say one more thing. One more thing and you're golden) I'm um... colorblind."
Silence.
Well better than laughter I suppose. I go take my drawing back, and the teacher speaks to me. "Wow, David you sure are good at Japanese! And you've only been here for two years? I can't speak English at all! Are you a genius?"
Wait. Pause. Yes, he asked me if I was a genius. I guess I should have been flattered. But I was mostly shocked. How do you respond to that, especially to a teacher, and doubly so when 9 times out of 10 you actually have no idea what he is saying? I stuck with the Japanese way of accepting compliments by not accepting them.
"No, no. I'm just a regular guy. Ha ha."
Damn, I hope he doesn't start using really hard words when he talks to me. The rest of the day wound down as all the students took their turn at the front. With great relief I turned off my recorder and packed up my things.
"Hi"
I look up, one of the students had started talking to me. Sweet.
"Hi," I sad back.
And then he started speaking in sentences. Oh man. My luck was just not strong today. This student happened to be from Shikkouku. An Island in the south of Japan. And just like in America or England or anywhere really, different regions of the country have very different dialects and pronunciation. I was struggling to understand even the simple things he said to me. But he was nice, and asked a few questions about me, and I tried to return the favor as best I could. I was grateful just for the fact that he even spoke to me. Many Japanese people are too shy to initiate conversation with a foreigner.
Somehow I managed to get through it. We said our pleasantries and headed our separate ways and I ended the class on a high note thinking I'd taken the first steps towards making a friend. Time to head home.
Leaving class everyone made their way to one of the train stations nearby, or to their bicycle, and as things usually go they start to form groups. I'm waiting on the train platform and soon to come was a small group of students from my class also riding the same train home. I really did not expect them to stop and talk to me. And I can honestly say, I was pleasantly surprised when they did.
So I'm heading to my first day of classes! I've got the usual butterflies, going over all of my supplies to make sure I've brought everything:
Pencil and eraser. Check.
Pen and Ink. Check.
Ruler. Check.
Paper. Check.
USB Recording Device. Check.
Yes, that's right. I was so nervous about not understanding what anybody said in class, that I bought a recorder and planned to record and re-listen to the teacher's lectures, etc. as the need arose. On paper, this was a good plan. I was confident it would work. There was no way, my super A+ Recording Plan could fail!
As I entered the classroom and took a random seat, there were pockets of nervous conversation, but mostly silence. I read some One Piece while waiting for the teacher to show up. Once he did, we soon learned that we would have assigned seats for the first half of the year. To make it easier for him to remember our faces and names. Not that I think he would have much trouble picking me out of the crowd. (^_-)
Okay. Since forever, I have been a back-of-the-classroom kind of guy. I just don't like sitting under the teacher's nose. I like having the freedom to space out every once in a while without anyone noticing. Yes, it's not the best habit in the world. But it's how I am, and I can't really help it. Luckily enough, as my name comes towards the latter end of the Japanese alphabet (they arranged me by my first name, since Japanese names are reversed) I got my wish.
So far so good. I've understood the relatively simple Japanese used up to this point (mostly just calling of names and pointing to seats) and was confident and ready for the lesson to begin.
Recorder on.
Aaaand, the teacher starts talking.
Aaaaaaaaand I have no idea what he is saying.
As luck, or irony, would have it, my new teacher was a mumbler. He mumbled all his words into a mush-jargon pile of Japanese that I could barely make any kind of heads or tails of.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Wait. Calm down. I have the recorder. I will probably be able to make out what he's saying later. Things will be okay. I'll be fine.
So I listen and try to understand what he's saying. Its no use! Argh! What to do?!
And then I am saved! Behind me, one student asks another.
"Do you understand what he is saying?"
"Nope."
"Me either."
Yesss! Okay, its not just me. I have a life-line! I wait for the teacher to stop speaking. There's the usual class mumblings and clamor of speech as they are no longer expected to be silent. And as my luck would have it, the two who had no idea what he was saying, called the teacher over and asked him to explain what to do again.
I never listened so hard in my life. This time I would get it for sure. Okay, I understand about half. I got the gist. We are supposed to draw a character, give him some kind of personality and then do a few head shots of him with different expressions. Everybody is busy drawing so I waste no time and set my pencil to the paper.
I decided to draw some lazy teenager sprawled out on a couch who thinks work is annoying and would rather sit around at home doing nothing. The class is given about an hour for this task and when the hour is up, the teacher tells that we are now going to come to the front of the class, show our drawings to everyone and do a brief introduction about ourselves.
Oh great. First day and I'm already doing public speaking. At least I'm near the end of the list. So I have some time to prepare what I'm going to say.
I'm not going to describe everyone that went up there, but let's just say there were some talented people and many - what's a nice way to say this - we'll say "hopeful learners." Not to toot my own horn, I know better than anyone else I still have work to do and room to improve, but some of these students were drawing at a level a lot lower than I originally expected. And, of course, the opposite was true - some of them were amazing.
As my turn came up, I made my way to the front. Put my drawing up on the projector. And started talking.
Translation:
"Hi. I'm David. Um. I'm from New York. Um. (Mind racing furiously) I've been in Japan for two years now. (Crap say one more thing. One more thing and you're golden) I'm um... colorblind."
Silence.
Well better than laughter I suppose. I go take my drawing back, and the teacher speaks to me. "Wow, David you sure are good at Japanese! And you've only been here for two years? I can't speak English at all! Are you a genius?"
Wait. Pause. Yes, he asked me if I was a genius. I guess I should have been flattered. But I was mostly shocked. How do you respond to that, especially to a teacher, and doubly so when 9 times out of 10 you actually have no idea what he is saying? I stuck with the Japanese way of accepting compliments by not accepting them.
"No, no. I'm just a regular guy. Ha ha."
Damn, I hope he doesn't start using really hard words when he talks to me. The rest of the day wound down as all the students took their turn at the front. With great relief I turned off my recorder and packed up my things.
"Hi"
I look up, one of the students had started talking to me. Sweet.
"Hi," I sad back.
And then he started speaking in sentences. Oh man. My luck was just not strong today. This student happened to be from Shikkouku. An Island in the south of Japan. And just like in America or England or anywhere really, different regions of the country have very different dialects and pronunciation. I was struggling to understand even the simple things he said to me. But he was nice, and asked a few questions about me, and I tried to return the favor as best I could. I was grateful just for the fact that he even spoke to me. Many Japanese people are too shy to initiate conversation with a foreigner.
Somehow I managed to get through it. We said our pleasantries and headed our separate ways and I ended the class on a high note thinking I'd taken the first steps towards making a friend. Time to head home.
Leaving class everyone made their way to one of the train stations nearby, or to their bicycle, and as things usually go they start to form groups. I'm waiting on the train platform and soon to come was a small group of students from my class also riding the same train home. I really did not expect them to stop and talk to me. And I can honestly say, I was pleasantly surprised when they did.
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