BAWWWWW

Well, this is it. My last day of work is Friday. I'm gonna miss my students so bad! ;_;

Allow Me to Introduce Pepsiman

ALL PARTS MADE OF SMELLING MATERIAL.

Of all the super awesome toys I've picked up this year in Japan, Pepsiman just might be my favorite. I happened upon this gem at a weird little shop in Hiroshima, and successfully haggled him down to a reasonable price in broken Japanese. I was, and still am, quite proud of myself.

He is very confident of his physical ability.

This thing has so many priceless features! Not only does he supposedly smell like Pepsi, he comes with a snowboard, crutch, and leg cast. So he can catch some rad air and then snap his leg and hobble around on a cast. Plus, mine is some kind of special edition where his body seems to be liquefying into Pepsi.

Especially, he is so into sideways-riding-sports . . .

This guy, an amalgamation of Silver Surfer and a Pepsi can, used to be Pepsi's mascot in Japan. In the commercials, he would basically come flying out of nowhere on a snowboard or something equally x-treme, and then a big gaping mouth-hole would open up on his otherwise featureless face miraculously filling some helpless thirsty person's empty glass with Pepsi. The Pepsi didn't actually flow from his mouth, it just kinda appeared in the glass when his face would open up. Pretty creepy, actually.

The Pepsiman commercials all seem to be set in the United States. Everything is even in English with Japanese subtitles. Too bad we never actually got Pepsiman in America. All we got was that little girl with the manvoice. Remember her from the early '00s? 

Now if I could just track down a copy of Pepsiman for PlayStation . . .

Chicken in Bizarro World

Most Americans and Japanese can easily agree that fried chicken sounds like a good meal. When I have the opportunity to take my pick from a big greasy bucket of the Colonel’s secret recipe, I go for the breast, of course. That’s the logical choice, right? It’s the biggest section of white meat with the least obstructive bones. The darker, greasier, veinier, sinewier, bonier bits are just the leftover scraps if you ask me.

            

Japan thinks we Americans eat the leftover chicken scraps. To them, white meat is dry and flavorless. They go for the dark stuff. If you order a pricier high quality chicken sandwich over here, you’ll get an extra veiny patty of pressed together dark meat scraps and gristle. At McDonald’s in the States, the Chicken Selects get their name because they’re supposedly “select” portions of nice white meat chicken. McDonald's Japan "selects" the darkest gristleiest scraps. Most Japanese bars have fried chicken gristle or cartilage on the menu. People order that. On purpose. At the grocery store, nice big cuts of white meat are discounted. Nobody wants to buy them.

My Personal Cheer Squad

Every morning on my commute to work, I play Nintendo DS on the train. Even if I don't particularly feel like playing, I have to. People are counting on me.

It started a few months ago when I was really into Pokémon White Version. I played it every chance I had, which of course included standing on the train platform in a huge crowd while I waited for my morning train. A small group of elementary school boys--decked out in their goofy little sun hats with elastic chinstraps, dress slacks shorts, and their $300+ backpacks--eventually noticed that the foreign gentleman was playing Pokémon.

The kids were pretty shy at first. They'd pretend not to be watching me, and just sneak peeks at the screens when they thought I was too into the game to notice. They weren't subtle though. They'd elbow each other and bicker, trying to get the best view. And although I don't understand that much Japanese, I can easily pick out Pokémon names, even Japanese ones.

One morning, when I was really into the book I was reading, I decided to read on the platform and train instead of playing DS. The kids gathered around as usual, but they were disappointed. One boy worked up the guts to approach me and ask, in Japanese, where my DS was. Another boy knocked him pretty hard on the head for being so forward. I hadn't realized, until that point, that they actually looked forward to watching me play. So, I put my book away and got out my DS; this small action was met with much fanfare.

Now my little schoolboy cheer squad pushes through the crowds every morning to watch me play. They shout out their advice, cringe and curse when I mess up, and gawk at all the English text in my North American localized games. Part of my job as a JET Programme ALT is to promote cultural exchange and break down the barriers that exist here between the Japanese and the outside world. So, part of my job, as I see it, is to play my Nintendo DS every morning to the great delight and amusement of a growing group of little boys.

Japanese Pizza Hut

Getting pizza over here is a lot more complicated. Because I don't speak Japanese, ordering on the phone is pretty much out of the question. Pizza Hut is too far to have delivered, but Pizza Royal Hat is within range. Can't call them though. I could potentially order from Pizza Royal Hat online, but I'd hate to screw up the order somehow due to inability to read the options on their site.

Tonight, we decided to try getting Pizza Hut for the first time. I had to ride there on my bike, order the pizzas, wait on them, wrap the boxes in a towel to keep them warm, and strap them to my bike to take home. It's a pretty long ride, but I'll do anything for pizza.

Pepperoni/sausage/corn and mayo/meat

They may have been a lot of trouble to get, but these pizzas really really made me happy. They were every bit as good as American Pizza Hut, if not better for having strange and interesting toppings. We didn't see it until I only had one slice left, but the pizzas came with some kind of green hot sauce taped to the side of the boxes.

Hot Green Sauce

Hot sauce and pizza in Japan seem to be inseparable. Every time I've ordered pizza, except at the fancy Italian place, it came with hot sauce. I could definitely get used to that.

Our First Care Package from Mom

 This poor box looks like it went through hell on the way here. It was all dented and misshapen when we got it. When I opened the door, little old postal worker was straining to hold the box up, and he was holding it sideways. It had pretty much lost it's shape entirely, so it looked like he was hanging onto a big heavy beanbag.

 Japanese customs is pretty serious biz, and they seriously open all foreign packages and rummage through them. Despite the outward appearance of the package, nothing inside was damaged.

We tore into the box and spread everything out on the kitchen floor. Unfortunately, it's all but impossible to ship meat to Japan, but Mom sent us plenty of good ol' American food.

A lot of the stuff she sent is the kind of stuff we were used to having at home, but just can't get in Japan. She sent a ton of mac & cheese, which we had for lunch today. We got some tortillas and refried beans, which is good because there is virtually no Mexican food available in our area. The Lipton soup is going to be really really nice this winter when it's really cold. There's a giant Jiff peanut butter, which I can't live without. They have peanut butter here, but it's more expensive, and they don't have Jiff, which seriously tastes the best.

Now we can eat like Americans!