A conundurm of sorts

So, what do you do when you find out that a company you adore for their ethical stance on recycling, treatment of animals and sustainable/organic goods, treats their employees like, well, a company who has never heard of any of those listed above.  And not via the grape-vine: but from the inside.  Coupling this discovering is it isn’t localized: it is a national phenomenon:

no health insurance offered, even at 100% except to managers, shifts scheduled just under the state law for mandatory laws for rest breaks.

santa, is looking like a good deal.

 

Remember the Maine

It was a rallying cry: “Remember the Maine”: remember our American way of life.  Two words: stuff it. 

I’m tired. I’m tired of being told that the back of the bus is ok for me.  I’m tired of a president, vice president members of senate and most members of the house not saying it is not okay for all Americans to have the same basic rights.

How does a marriage of a gay person impact a marriage of a straight person? How does a marriage of a straight person impact a marriage of a gay person? They don’t. They do. They both show that the unit of love is stronger than the fear of a few.

Maybe the “American” dream should change: you know, to give me your poor, your straight huddled masses yearning to be free. I’m not sure my country, and the country my family fought in the Revolutionary War for wants me.  O’Canada? I like your national anthem!

3rd Saturday in October

It snowed yesterday … not enough to make it a “snow event” just enough to have to brush it off the car before I left to run a few errands.  I sort of like this time of year: I like the crisp mornings, how the sun doesn’t come glaring in but sort of awakens like a dimmer switch.  I also despise this time of year.  It has a slew of losses in the past, the time change always messes me up and well, my ankle doesn’t like the cold!

However, I guess getting to wear my Nanook of the North boots (ie Uggs) whenever I want makes it all good.  That and the pot of chilli which will soon be simmering on the stove top done just in time to watch the Red River battle.  On that I take no sides: I know people on both sides who won’t shut up for a year! But really, no UT/Bama! Come ON!

Unemployed and exhausted

It’s strange.  When you work like a mad woman, you think “if only I had a few months off. . . “.  Now that I’ve been looking for a job, I can say it’s exhausting and humiliating.  Hi, hire me.  I have a master’s degree.  I have a stable work history.  I’m a good person.  I work hard.  And. . . I’m like the millions of others out there that can’t find a job.

I’ll admit, I might be picky: I do want a job that is in my field.  My body can’t handle retail again.  It hurt too much – and the physical pain, well, it didn’t pay enough for the pain meds! .  There are days I wonder what I’ve done wrong: I got the degrees: I’ve worked hard.  And for what? Congress acts like 10% unemployment isn’t an urgent issue. Excuse me? That is *only* the number recorded – not the under employed, the people who have fallen off the books and those working daily in fear of loosing their jobs.  What number do we have to hit for benefits to be kicked out further? Or should we just keep spending money to oh, launch rockets at the moon. . . .

Oh updates and the like

Even though I’m not traveling,  and I don’t have followers I thought I’d still keep writing.  Why? It sorta keeps me thinking about things.  And by things, I mean the random stuff that clutters my mind that really can’t go other places.

  I know the huge debate is Obama and the Nobel Peace Prize.  I don’t dislike Obama.  I don’t care much for him either.  For me, I prefered him to run over Clinton and well, after McCain picked Palin. . . I don’t buy the ‘lack of experience’ (see Bush II, Clinton, Regan, Carter, Kennedy).  I just don’t care for him. :shrug: but I don’t care for our system that doesn’t really count votes except for in a handful of states.  I’ve never missed a presidential election and my vote has never mattered.

Part of the anti-Obama sentiment I think has to come from the fact he has been less secretive than Bush II about the true state of the union.  Also, I feel that the electorate thought, in part, he could walk on water.  Um….negative.  I also think Obama underestimated the idiocy at the end of the street.  Hi, let’s argue over the amount of fingers most people have for 394394348381 days.  Let’s fund the idea to launch a rocket to blow up part of the moon while facing 10% unemployment (I’d like my $300 for that dumb idea).  I’m not sure how extending unemployment benefits can be a bad idea: handout, perhaps.  But Washington is wasting money on very idiotic ideas (see the moon idea).  Are people supposed to lose homes? Choose between heat and food?  This one seems like a no-brainer.  Living on unemployment isn’t exactly filet mignon living.  It’s mac and cheese.  But then again, what do I know.

Waiting game

Nobody ever said waiting was easy. Of course, they don’t tell you that the waiting is the hard part. You’re still sore. Everything hurts and as night falls the demons and the ghosts of the what if’s come creeping out. It’s the silence. The pounding silence of 3 am that keeps you awake. 5 days. If it’s nothing … that’s a lot of energy I just wasted. If it’s something, did I miss dancing in the rain before my life changed because I was so scared?

How do you not know there is something the size of ping pong ball in your nipple? How is it not so obvious that even to the naked touch in the shower that it wasn’t caught weeks, months ago? Please tell me this is nothing. I stare at the place I know my lab results will show up. I check it all the time. Still pending. I’m the one who is pending. I just want an answer. I can handle bad news. I can handle good news.

I don’t know if I can handle another night of pounding silence.

Heading home…final thoughts and such.

Well, not really true.  I have a few in the works posts about this trip that I’ll finish up when I get home.  I’m sitting in the Tokyo Airport trying to summarize in my head the past few weeks.  I don’t know what I was looking for when I left Boston.  Probably some of what I always look for, adventure, something new, a different slice of the world.

The trip started off wobbly – I mean, who likes spending the night at an airport? But a taste of what was to come was shown.  The precision of providing us with food, water and blankets was something I’ve never seen (and I’ve spent my fair share of nights on airport floors!). 

I’ve heard and read a fair amount of criticism for and about Japan for not having owned its history.  While the statement is true and fair, I think of all the nations who that can be said of: yes, Japan never formally apologized for WWII.  Our own history is filled with a lack of apologies.  We skip teaching about the Japanese interment camps of WWII, the relocations of the Native Americans, slavery and the list goes on and on. 

History is complicated.  War sucks.  I find myself arching my eyebrows one group of people says another group should do this about its history.  We all should know the good and the bad of where we are from – it is only then that we can truly understand how small this world really is.

But the people of Japan were gracious hosts to a mongolot American who wandered into their slice of the world.

Adventures from the dazed and confused

So, I finally had bad weather. Nothing big. Just an all day cold rain – the type that leaves you soaked and chilled to the bone. I’m in the foothills of the “Japanese alps” (by where the Nagano games were held in Takayama which weather.com says doesn’t exist … it’s about 80,000 people). The town is known for it’s folk art and a spring and fall festival which has a set of floats that puts Mardi Gras to shame (put it this way … each float is valued at roughly 2 million to start) but i’m jumping ahead of myself. My day started fairly normally – I went downstairs to get breakfast. There is a mild earthquake. I was in the elevator. Ok. I’ve never been in an earthquake that I could actually (a) feel or (b) remember. I already do not like small closed in spaces. This does not help matters. Apparently this is common enough that I’m the only person concerned. The other occupants say “earthquake” and get off and go eat. I’m hugging the door jam, convinced it will be my demise. After realizing that I am both starving and uncaffinated, I decide that food wins out. I can’t find my meal voucher. After a good 5 minutes of searching, I remember I put it in a logical place, my wallet. Note: why anybody would trust me with paper is beyond me. Now, I am in a region of Japan known for its beef. I have chosen to come here to get away from fish. The first thing I see? Little tiny fish with eyeballs staring at me. On a platter. Ok, I’ve eaten a pigs ear, a fish eyeball and a few other things in my wanderings. But this morning? I found my fruit, bread and rice. The eggplant, miso soup and other sundries were for another day or better yet, later in the day.

I went to leave the hotel and noticed it was raining. Sigh. I pulled out my trusty rain coat and the front desk insisted I take an umbrella. Despite awnings that shielded most of the downtown, I still managed to get drenched. A friends kindergartner asked about the cars in Japan. So, looking like a tourist, I took a ton of pictures for the blog site (I’m sure people were like ???). I walked thru the markets and found more grilling of fish and keg beer (ok, it is 9:30 on a Saturday but they don’t play football here!) and desperately tried to find the float museum in now a driving rainstorm. I took shelter in a coffee house where I was the only customer. I had a fascinating time watching the proprietor make dumplings. She didn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Japanese. We understood each other. I won’t order any: they were a chewy dumpling but very interesting to watch being made with a red bean paste dipping sauce (that I’ll take). I finally found the floats. They were fascinating (Hilda’s blog has pics!)  and the best/funniest part? The tradition started when “obama was lord”. Ok, that part had me laughing so hard I had to turn off the free audio tape because well, just because.

After I saw 4 of the 23 floats (that is all they have on display … they rotate them and the others are in various parts of the town behind locked doors), I was standing under some part of some temple and realized I was done. Just done. I wanted to be in bed. Not at the hotel. But in my bed. With my monsters. I don’t think I’ve eaten right in 2 weeks. It isn’t a matter of money, it’s a matter of allergies. I can’t find what I can eat. I’ve given up trying to be a vegetarian on this trip. The freezing cold pouring rain didn’t help at all. My way of snapping out of it? Shopping and a pedicure.

Lost in translation had just begun. First, I decided that my sister’s classroom needed something. So I found for her students mini-rice scoops because the proper way to serve rice is with the scoops. I had told her I would pick up something for her students. The junky stuff was the same price as the real wooden scoops. So, here I am, this drenched to the bone, 5 10 American, standing in this tiny business purchasing 22 tiny wooden scoops. The guy looks at me like I’m crazy. You can tell he wants an explanation but doesn’t know how to ask or is too polite to ask. So, I have no way of saying “My sister is a kindergarten teacher” in Japanese. I have one option. I point to me and say “teacher” right next to a huge Buddhist temple made when Obama was lord in Japan. Why do I have a hunch this isn’t going to end well? He bows. And gives me a discount. Great. I’ve lied. And been rewarded.

Little did I know. I find what I think is a pedicure place. Now, on reflection, I should have realized that I have seen zero polished hands or feet on Japanese women. There is a sign on this door that says “we make you have happy, beautiful feet”. OK. I walk in. I say for feet? Oh yes. They have me sit down, and I’m told to put my feet in this large cylindrical contraption. Now, I have size 11.5-12 feet, guess what didn’t fit? well, they were crammed in there. This thing is on rollers and my socks are still on. For massage first. Hmmm. Ok. Nothing happens except my feet start cramping.

Now, my hair is soaked. The woman gets out a blow dryer and starts to dry my hair. Odd. Then my neck is massaged. Ok. I thought about making a run for it but my feet are in this cylinder on rollers, cramping and I wouldn’t get very far. My thought was, never lie in the shadow of a temple. Next I’m told to lie on this bed. Face up. Face up I can handle. It is like a pedicure massage chair but on a mat. Sigh. But it gets more interesting. She starts to take off my socks. And cracks my toe knuckles! I’m told I have “good feet”. Um, ok? I then stand up. And am given what I think is a Buddhist blessing (maybe she knew about the lie?). Luckily, this adventure was only $20. And no toes were broken.

By this point I am truly starving. I decide that I really, really need food. To hell with cows being cute, this is the beef area of Japan. I go into this place called Davinci Rice. I’m asked where I am from. I said the US. The owners put their hands over their hearts and start humming The Star Spangled Banner. We love America! USA is #1! I turn bright red. (never lie in the shadow of a temple.) I was their first American customer. I’m now in a picture on their wall. (never, ever lie in the shadow of a temple.). OMG. I don’t know what to say. Except that a group of kindergartners had better appreciate these rice scoops.

A sign for the day

I walked thru the Kyoto train station for probably the last time and today they had signs up that were not present before: Kyoto police are on the alert for terror suspects.  I know today is 9/11 (well, on this side of the dateline anyway!).

I can’t help but thinking about the CNN feeds I’ve been seeing from home via the web:  people screaming over health care, a member of congress yelling at the president (ok, granted my first thought was hell, in South Korea and Japan they fight with punches in the houses of government and it includes the prime minister so the uproar over yelling liar seems a bit disproportional!) and uproar over a president broadcasting an address to school children when George Bush did it.  Ronald Regan used high schools as campaign stops.  That is using children for political means and that is uncalled for.

In the middle of the non-sense finger pointing over really stupid issues (I mean let’s face it: Who is against affordable health care? Who is against having a leader of one of the most powerful nations in the world saying a positive message to the next generation?), ask yourself this, do you remember where George Bush (the other one) was on 9/11/2001 when he received the news? I do: reading to a group of school children, I suppose he shouldn’t have done that either.

I’ve wandered the world a fair amount in the past 10 or so years.  I’ve seen some amazing things: baby elephants in South Africa, geishas in Kyoto, the Great Wall of China.  I’ve seen people struggle at home and abroad with preventable illnesses, poverty and a lack of education.  I’ve seen people working tirelessly to make the world a bit better than it was a minute before without fanfare or even a thank-you.

And 8 years ago, I saw planes slam into buildings killing thousands.  Why? Because we spend too much time pointing and yelling and not enough listening.  The world is a very small place.  There is far, far, far more that unites us than will ever divide us.  If we took the time to listen, truly listen without an agenda and have a conversation, just maybe those deaths will not have been in vain.  And the world truly will be a better place.

Reflexology

I’m a firm believer in reflexology (it’s one of those not up for discussion points with me).  I see a reflexologist in Stoneham, MA at The Barefoot Dragonfly named Amy.  When I we were talking about my going to Japan, she said I had to try reflexology here.  I’m game for almost anything once (aside from tight wire walking, sky diving and rooting for the Yankees) so after hiking around Kyoto for a few days, I decided to give it a go.

There is a huge department store in the train station called The Cube.  I had asked a the Tourist Information center where to go and they sent me to a department store.  Ok.  I was a bit wary.  I figured it was a lost in translation/American doesn’t know what she wants moment.  The worst, I figured, was a pedicure.  Nope.  On the 10th floor (!) a reflexology area about the size of a normal department store section.  It was quiet, relaxing and had the tape of the birds chirping.

It started with a warm towel around my neck and a wool blanket over me.  Ok. I was thinking that was a bit much since it was 82 degrees outside and while not hot, it was comfortable inside.  The main difference was the intensity: it was much deeper but not painful and she alternated between each foot.  I went in with my back throbbing (normal) and left with it sore.  This morning, it is stiff.  This is the first time since I arrived it’s only been stiff.  I had the normal reaction of more sinus drainage than is needed (hey, I’m surrounded by pine trees and diesel exhaust!).

My one thing that I didn’t like? The cold rosehip tea.  Warm would have been ok.  Cold? A bit much for me!