Friday is good for Sunny Weather

Ice Golf

This is just a quick story from yesterday. I have been rushing around with odd jobs all day and have only just found now time to sit down and write. Please excuse its brevity, but it's pretty funny. In a classroom, all it takes sometimes is one student to go off track and the rest will follow like sheep. Case in point; yesterday teaching my grade twos, I was trying to gesture "Ice Hockey." The skates, the ice; that was no problem, but when it came to the stick, R-kun, smart bugger that he is in the front row, offered "Ice Golf?" I can see the connection but I reacted with a loud laugh at the image he suggested which the rest of the kids mistook as comformation the answer was correct. Next thing the kids are all saying "Ice Golf" "Ice Golf," some quizzly, others happy finally to have set on the answer. Now we are all off topic and readers will have to imagine me in class waving my arms wildly like I'm trying to herd monkeys, trying to get the class back on track.

2007 NaNoWriMo Complete!

It's official! I won the 2007 NaNoWriMo competition. I entered my document into their website before the end of November and their army of robots counted and certified my novel as being over 50,000 words. In reality, all I won was a stupid internet badge, but I post it here proudly. It's a soul crushing experience to push out 50,000 words in a month, especially for me who managed to reach it by November 15th. In 2005 I calculated the stats for the month but this year, because my novel has a more serious tone (in contrast to 2005's effort which was just absurd), I will now attempt to humorously summarize my novel in less words than it took to write.

Imagine you live in the future. Everything is perfect. It's truly a utopia on Earth. Now imagine it's because everything is run by a super-intelligent computer called the Singularity that has wrestled control of earth from humans by predicting, controlling, and harnessing human behaviour and bending the laws of physics itself. Now imagine that instead of the author taking the opportunity to create original characters or develop any sort of plot, nor attempt to penatrate the enigmatic philosophical properties of such a system or the implications of such a omnipotent, benevolent controller, he uses the book as a platform to describe the structure the Singularity is housed in. Nearly 40,000 words dedicated to describing a fictional building. Then, the author, upon realizing he is going to run out of things to write about before reaching the goal, changes course and decides to put a second Singularity in space. What a stroke of genius on the part of the author, Luanching a second Singularity into space easily allows another 10,000 words in the course of describing the ship--christened the Hamlet. The transition is handled flawlessly with stock characters called by such inventive names as Dr. Matthew and Dr. Morgan and a ninja attack at the 41,000 word mark. The spaceship Hamlet is launched just as an earthquake strikes the original Singularity, collapsing what had been previously described as a very strong building, returning the population of earth to a pre-historic way of life. Ultimately, the book argues a real utopia is impossible and life tragic; another paradise lost. Reviewers suggest alternatively that perhaps the author came up with this idea when he was having a bad Monday; perhaps having stubbed his toe getting out of bed or upon realizing he forgot to buy orange juice for breakfast. Publishers are quick to comment that in several places the author outright stole plot devices from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Harry Potter and Bridget Jones's Dairy and that the manuscript is only fit to be burned. By way of closing, the author wishes to delare his intent to keep writing the little known genre of sci-fi architectural fiction.

It's okay it's Monday

What a wild morning! We had visitors at Shikaoi Elementary School from the Ministry of Education who watched my grade one English class. Besides the implications that even the federal government is interested in Shikaoi's English program, the way people were treating the situation like an approaching rock star was comical and it kept me relaxed. Also keeping me relaxed was the fact that I was kept in the dark about most of the days details, except for my class, which a small core of people had been planning since last week. It went as well as can be expected with a class of forty-five grade ones. It's like training a goldfish; doable, but not always predictable. Ten teachers, which was not special for the class, also helped. I honestly had fun.

Also making me smile today was picking up a package at the post office. From the notes left behind, I knew I had already missed the package twice, such is the penalty when one lives in a country that still has Saturday and Sunday delivery. But I digress; I went to the post office at first opportunity Monday and discovered my package was unfortunately out for delivery again for the third time. The guy that is helping me got on his cellphone to contact the driver who is out on delivery. I know this because soon there after, waiting and watching out the window, I see the poor driver return on his motorcycle, appear, disappear around the corner, come in the back door and, in his outdoor coat, walk straight over and hand me the package. I felt horrible for them to go through all the trouble of calling the diver back. I'm really not worth effort. I would have insisted they deliver it to the Board of Education had I known he was planning on calling the driver back; he left out off earshot when he got on the phone. The package turned out to be a wonderful box of Canadian chocolates from my Grandma M. I try to eat sweets only in the morning on the 18th century notion that it will burn the calories off throughout the day. In reality, I probably just like the sugar rush in the morning. I must admit at the first sight it was chocolate I ripped into the first package. I will save the second for the office to spread some Christmas cheer tomorrow.

It was so beautiful when I got up this morning, walking to work the wind was warm not unlike the Chinooks we get in Calgary. However, things have changed nasty in the last hour of work. Not it is raining. I'm not confident it will stay as rain as the temperature drops over night.

The Escaped Wakayama Orange Project

Hokkaido Moon in Winter

Razor sharp or Polished smooth ice surfaces

It has, for the recording, started snowing here. It snowed for most of the day yesterday while managing to stay above zero, so as one can imagine it left quite a mess. Things aren't so bad today as everything froze in the exact state it was left in yesterday, even if it be razor sharp or polished smooth. I think the snow dump was big enough that it won't be going away until spring. I'm a bit depressed that all I can look forward to is for things to get colder and darker before they get warmer. I am not impressed.

Always Something of Interest in Chomin Hall

I work in a large spread out public building called Chomin Hall of which the Board of Education takes up only a small fraction. To readers of my blog that have visited Shikaoi, this will all make perfect sense. I love working here because out the door there is always something of interest going on in the public spaces of the building. Today is a perfect example; the building is crawling with children because those entering grade one next year are required to have a health check. (From the din I can hear at my desk I can tell everyone's lungs are healthy.) Last week the news I couldn't share was the death of a previous Shikaoi mayor. I didn't recognize the name but I wanted to give the news a chance to travel to Stony Plain ahead of my post.

This offers the perfect opportunity to talk about some Japanese customs surrounding death. In Japanese funerals only two things are held as universal; the funeral is always Buddhist and two, the body is always cremated, which makes sense in a country as populated as Japan. I appreciate how the Japanese are not so uptight about sacredness and spirituality. Ringing cell phones still cross the line, but taking pictures, walking around, or making a grocery list is not considered high treason, and no one will be reincarnated as an ant as nothing is infringed upon or disrespected.

The first thing I learned about Japanese funerals was at the dinner table. There are few behaviours in Japan that will stop conversation, one being if you pass an item chopstick to chopstick. Never ever do this. People's jaws will drop, some might push back from the table in horror, a sign or silent scream is not out of the question. The reason is to be found in the cremation process; afterward pieces of bone left intact are collected by the use of chopsticks and only during this process is it permissible to pass something chopstick to chopstick.

New Years, which is coming up, is normally very festive, with many visitors and special New Years' postcards, however, if a close relative passes in the preceding year, the family is considered in mourning and must be left alone, they don't even go to the temple on New Years.

The Japanese wake and funeral are very similar. Both times, a Sutra is read by a Buddhist monk, the only difference being that at the funeral the deceased is given a new Buddhist name. This is so the deceased will not return when their name is called. At some point the attendees walk to the front and light incense. Beyond this, the traditions surrounding Buddhist funerals are numerous, varied and arcane, following an individual's wishes, which is sometimes dictated by family tradition. The photograph shows the setup for a very large public wake previous to the monks being seated. The funeral took place in the same space the day after. It was a romantic scene leaving work later, Buddhist chanting could be heard throughout the building and the scent of incense still hung in the air the following day.

Dear Goodness! That was close!

I had already given away four oranges when I was about to give another four to our friendly neighbourhood Pure Land Buddhist priest. (Trust me, as he would say himself, he needs else in his diet besides beer and yaki niku, especially since he's trying to stop smoking.) But then I caught myself and remembered than in Japan four is an auspicious number and that gifts should be given in groups of three or five, never four. Austin might well let the first four slide but Sensei would definately noticed and thought I was trying to dis him or kill him or curse his family.