Old Habits...

Hmm, well, it probably comes as no surprise to anyone to discover that I haven't been as good at updating my blog as I intended.  After only two weeks of adhering (just about) to my goal of at least one post a week, I got waylaid, distracted and lets be honest, rather lazy.  So I'm going to try to make up the three weeks I've missed with a few extra posts over the next few weeks, and hopefully I'll be more disciplined about it.

As for the Krav Maga...haha...yes, right, well then, do you remember how I've mentioned before that I always seem to get demotivated with martial arts classes very soon after joining up?  Well, I left a few minutes late for my second KMG class the following week, and for the duration of the drive in (an hour, by the way) I was debating whether or not I was bothered to go or not, but kept telling myself that I had to push myself with it, and keep it up for a little while longer to give it a fair go.  Parked the car, and was walking towards the hall where it's held when I reached a part of the path where I could see in through the window.  The class was already in full swing, with about ten huge hairy fellas standing in a circle practising kicks.  The nice, reasonably sized beginner I was paired with the week before wasn't there and I think I probably stood there for a minute wrestling with my conscience before deciding that I didn't really want to get sent through a wall by a guy three or four times my size.  And that was the end of that.  Now, I mean no disrespect to the big hairy guys - they're not the kind of lads you want to go around upsetting anyway - I'm sure that they are decent blokes and I really should have given them and the whole thing more of a chance, but what can you do, my mind had been made up.

In other news I've begun a ten-week Irish Sign Language course, just to keep me learning something.  A good few people have asked why I'm doing it, but it's just something I've wanted to understand better for a long time now, and I enjoy the one hour and fifteen minute lesson on a Saturday afternoon.  The only thing is that, just like with my school and college work in days of yore, I just don't seem to be able to motivate myself to do the study for it the rest of the week, and end up trying to cram it on Saturday morning.

So, it would seem that this leopard hasn't successfully re-spotted itself yet.  However, on the baby steps front I have been managing a bit better, as after clearing out my room of nearly all junk and rubbish at the start of January, I have succeeded in keeping it tidy since then, making an effort not to leave clothes and letters and all the useless bits of paper that always seem accumulate in my pockets lying on the dresser or bed or floor, but rather sending each to its proper place when I'm finished with it.  A small victory for Discipline in an otherwise one-sided battle against Chaos.

Krav Maga, first impressions...

As promised I headed to my first Krav Maga training on Monday, and after only one session I already find myself having second thoughts about the whole thing.  I will try to persevere with it for a while longer, though.

Like I said before, I tend to quickly lose interest in martial arts once I actually start them, so this time I tried to identify my problem.  Part of it is that I don't seem to like starting out as a beginner in a group with more experienced members.  Not sure if this is not wanting to look like a tool, or some sort of inferiority complex, but it's something I'm going to have to work around.

I did get paired up with the only other beginner, which helped, and we both spent the lesson practising attacks our trainer taught us on each other, one person holding a big cushion-shield-thing while the other directed blows and kicks at it.  During our first exercise - kicks to the knee - another member came up and introduced himself, which was friendly, and then launched into what I thought to be an over-vigorous attack on his partner's shield.  Now, maybe I imagined it, but it did remind me that I really hate all that alpha-male macho rubbish.

Not to get bogged down on the negative, though, the guy I was paired with seemed alright, and the trainer came over on a regular basis to help us out, taking time to answer questions and correct our moves if we were making a balls of it.  It's also a martial art for real life, rather than being set for tournaments, one of the main ideas being to subdue an attacker asap, while regularly scanning your surroundings in case one of his/her mates comes at you with a bottle, for example.  This, I agree, is a sound approach, but my only concern would be in a situation where the police become involved, as the counter-attacks we learn to put an aggressor down seem so frenzied and aggressive that a witness arriving on the scene could easily believe the assailant to be the victim, and vice versa.

The trainer also mentioned something along the lines of 'letting the anger out' during your attack.  I wasn't too happy about it, to be honest, as I would think that the ultimate goal of learning a martial art would be to eliminate rage and have total control of your actions so that in the event of a confrontation you don't keep pummelling a guy's face when he has ceased to be a threat, and so the battle fog doesn't clear to find you standing over a lifeless, faceless body.  But that's just me.

The last thing that irked me just a bit was other members joking and being all pally-pally with the trainer when he's trying to explain something, or telling us what to do next.  The training is a lot less formal than other forms of martial arts that I know of - come and go as you please, no bowing to a photo of the guy who created the discipline at the beginning and end of each training - but no apparent code of conduct either. I know, clubs are meant to be fun, and it's great that the instructor is a nice guy but there is a time to mess around, and it's not when he's trying to address the whole group, even if you are super funny.  Well, maybe I'll change my mind when someone super funny gives it a go, but for now that's where I stand.

A New Year, with all the new goals that go with it - Step one

Only going to write a quick one today, because I have work in a bit, but I'm already a day behind in my resolution to write at least one blog a week.  I will try harder in future.

Anyway, my goal for 2012 is an overall improvement of myself.  In general.  Now I know what you're thinking, and yes, I did have to spend quite a bit of time in a very critical analysis of my life and personality, but eventually I did manage to isolate and identify some minor flaws which I won't bore you by listing.  Sufficed to say that I'll have plenty to keep me going for the next year, or at least until the world ceases to exist in December.

One of the first steps that will be taken to make me a better person will be to learn some sort of self defence.  My old skill of being able to run faster than most would-be aggressors (or, at the very least, other potential victims, which works just effectively) has suffered since breaking my leg, so while I work on my sprinting, I think being able to suppress any attack would be beneficial.  Not that I have a tendency to attract violence, but it's still good to know.

The only problem is that any other time I've taken self defence classes, I have started off enthusiastically, but very quickly lost interest.  I'm not sure if it's because I'm not instantly a kung fu master,  I don't like doing the same routines, or because I don't enjoy being paired up and thrown around by a sweaty man.  It's probably a mixture of all of these but it's something that I'm going to try to get over when I start Krav Maga tomorrow.

That's all for now.

Back on my Feet and a Money-lending Past

As the post heading suggests, I am off my crutches and walking about more or less freely again.  That said, I can't run properly yet, although it's something I intend to work on, and now and again I realise that I'm limping slightly, so I have to concentrate on walking normally.  

Over the past few months, there have been occasions where I've said to myself, 'Oh, that would be an interesting thing to put in a blog post', but I didn't do it, because I'd also decided to go with a new blog, with a new name that I prefer to the last one, and it all seemed like a lot of effort.  But here it is at last, and over the next few days I'll try to think of some of the wildly exciting events that have happened in my life since I stopped blogging in June.  I wouldn't go getting too enthusiastic though, best to just take them as they come.

The latest development is that I decided the other day that it was high time that I cleared most of the junk from my room, as my cupboards were crammed with junk which I felt that I couldn't chuck out, but had no worth.  For example the two old grey Sony Playstation consoles that I have stuck in the back of one cupboard.  You might wonder why I own two Sony Playstations.  Well, actually, I have three, but one is connected to an old television downstairs and still works - I played quite a lot Grand Theft Auto and GTA2 when I was laid up with my leg.  I imagine you're even more confused by the fact that I possess three of the things. But of course there's a perfectly good reason for it.  Kind of.

A friend in boarding school started running a tuck shop in the dorms when we were in our fifth year (about 17-18).  Basically he'd go from dorm to dorm in the evening with crates of cans and boxes of Mars bars and the like, selling them in order to earn a bit of extra money.  This was an enterprise usually undertaken by a fifth or sixth year, as younger entrepreneurs were likely to get jumped in the corridor, or pushed out by the older ones who didn't like the competition.  Occasionally I'd accompany him on his rounds, and one night one of the first years asked me to lend him a Euro.  I had no intention of giving him anything, but I told him I would at 100% interest, which he could pay me the following week.  To my surprise, he agreed, so I gave him his money, and sure enough, after the weekend I got my €2 back.  Midway through the following week he asked me for more money, under the same conditions, and some of the other first years were keen to get in on it as well.  I bought myself a little notebook and became more organised, and dropped my rates to 50% once they borrowed over €10, and I'd collect on Sundays when we arrived back after the weekend.  It got to the stage where I'd arrive on Sunday, relieve them of all their money, and then lend them more at my extortionate rates for the rest of the week.  Some second years also started borrowing as well.  To be honest, it only lasted about three weeks, as some day pupils started borrowing, and weren't paying me back fully (my interfering girlfriend at the time contributed largely to that) and I started to feel things were getting a bit hot in the business anyway as too many people knew and it was only a matter of time before parents started asking why their kids needed €25 for the week (I capped it at that).  I also didn't have what it took to go around breaking people's legs.  So in the end I came out with a net profit of about €60-70.  Not bad.

It just so happened that at the same time as I was shutting up shop, one of the first years - the one who had asked me for money in the first place, and subsequently became my best customer - was selling two Playstations complete with controllers and a few games, and wanted €60 for them.  I figured that despite the fact that the Playstation 2 had already long since come out I could probably still flog them for more than thirty each. I did nothing with them and eight or so years on, having examined Ebay, I think I may have been mistaken.  There is somebody asking for €40 for one with a large selection of games...but one of them is Time Crisis and I remember that being really good.  I don't think he's selling it with the gun, though, so not such a good deal.  I'll watch it to see how it does, though...

Earthquakes, and an unexpected departure from the Land of the Rising Sun

The following is from my Blue Nails blog 

It wasn’t until three days after the quake that there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere in Niseko.

Obviously everyone was concerned for the affected areas of Japan, and horrified at the destruction caused by the tsunami that hit the coast and devastated so many homes in Northern Honshu. But even though we had all felt the quake, albeit very slightly by comparison, as we watched the news it was very much as if it were all happening in another country. Hokkaido is quite a bit further north than Sendai, the city nearest the epicentre, well over five hundred kilometres, and we were also in an elevated position on the western side of the island, whereas the tsunami struck the eastern coast. There was talk of there being another large quake quite soon, but Japan is a country generally prepared for seismic activity (8.0 quakes followed by tsunamis excepted) so the danger seemed remote. In short, most of us were resigned to stay on in our little oasis of calm to enjoy the remainder of the ski season. It wasn’t until the news about the reactor trouble in Fukoshima came out that people started getting nervous.

Some of the season staff started booking flights earlier than others, deciding to get out of the country ASAP. Then there were those that were sure that they had it all under control. We’d heard that they’d flooded the reactor with seawater to cool it, a drastic measure which means that it can’t be used again, but we thought that that would be an end to it. But as the days went on and they struggled to cool down the increasingly volatile situation it seemed that they weren’t getting anywhere fast.

More people started investigating means of leaving the country, some because of the threat of radiation, some because their original plans of travelling around Japan after the season didn’t sound like they’d be much fun; it’s hard to have fun with the locals when they are recovering from a national disaster. After a long discussion in the house where we discussed the pros and cons of leaving, the cons for basically being: missing out on snow and my last week of work; the cost of booking new flights at short notice; missing out on visiting Okinawa, the sub tropical islands to the extreme south-west of the country where I was planning on spending the month of April. Disruption to travel plans and slight monetary loss are trivial complaints when ten thousand people are missing or dead and thousands more are homeless though, so I decided to get out. There was also the fact that I was getting a lot of emails from concerned friends and family, and I was afraid my mother would have a nervous breakdown if I stayed any longer than I had to. So I booked flights direct from Sapporo to Hong Kong (which meant that I could skip a layover in Tokyo), along with three of my workmates who’d also decided to bail.

The threat of radiation where we were was remote, and even the “above normal” levels of radiation they were detecting in Tokyo were negligible. We were eight hundred kilometres or so north of the stricken plant, and a reliable Siberian wind blows south over Hokkaido (bringing powder snow along with it), which should keep any airborne radioactive material away from us. On the other hand, it also had to be taken into consideration that as consistent as the winds are, globally the weather has been doing some pretty crazy things, and what was once dependable might not remain so for long. It also occurred to me that our location, within ten kilometres away from a huge sleeping volcano mightn’t necessarily be the best one, considering more seismic activity was predicted for the near future. Even if Yotei or another volcano on Hokkaido just decided to throw a lot of ash around the place it would still be enough to ground flights and strand us for an indefinite amount of time - Eyjafjallajökull in Iceland (no, I didn't know how to spell that), which had delayed my flights into Tokyo by two days, having made me wary.

Some people scoffed at us for leaving, and they were probably right, there is nothing to worry about. But why take the risk, particularly when no one seems entirely sure what’s going on.

Anyway, after saying goodbye to all the gang in Niseko, and then the ones in Sapporo I flew out on Sunday the 20th of March. It wasn’t the ending to my working holiday I’d pictured, but you’ve got to take what you get I suppose.

All I can say for now is good luck to the ones that have stayed put in Niseko, and to all of the other friends that I have made over the course of my ten and a half months in Japan.




In particular, my thoughts are with the family from Sendai that picked me up while I was hitching to Matsushima, and invited me to join their family barbecue, took me fishing and then dropped me back off at the motorway after a terrific day. The email address I have for them never worked and I couldn't get through to them on the phone number either. I hope they made it out all right. It's a long shot, but if anyone knows anything about them I'd be very grateful to hear from them.

Pain

The following is from my 'Blue Nails' blog.

Got my skis waxed the other day, something that I’d been meaning to do for the last ages, but had been putting it off a) because it costs anywhere between 10-20€ to get them done properly – which seeing it in writing doesn’t seem like that much, but that could equate to 2-3 days on the road once I get back to travelling – and b) because I wasn’t entirely sure how much difference it would make to the skis.  In the end I got a good deal on the whole thing through a friend of a friend who also sharpened the edges for me.

Did it make a difference?  Hell yes.  Didn’t get to go out on them until Monday morning before work at 12, and moving around was so much easier, especially on the flat where previously I struggled to move forward as I grated my dried out ski’s across the snow.  Generally speaking a skier should have a lot easier time on the flat than a snowboarder should as they have their poles to push themselves along with, as well as skating along, pushing forward on one ski then the other to pick up some speed.  So when I was struggling to keep up with all the boarders I should have been thinking that something was wrong.  Now I was burning ahead and loving it.

Monday morning wasn’t an especially fantastic morning snow-wise.  In fact it hadn’t really snowed for two days, and on top of that Sunday had been quite sunny, melting the surface layers of snow which then froze overnight.  The resulting iciness made it less fun to go between the trees, where you can usually find powder snow if there is any to be found, but which was now tracked out, bumpy and unforgiving.  So we hit the snow park.

Up to this time I had been cautiously(ish) introducing myself to the park, doing a few jumps.  Nothing fancy, just trying to go straight over them, land with my skis underneath me and hopefully not end up in a tangled mess.  I’d been doing alright, and although I had fallen a few times I had avoided injury.  So I thought nothing of giving it a go today.

What I hadn’t realised was quite how much the waxing would influence speed I could build up on the short run up to the jump.  It was only as I was going up the ramp, really, that I thought I might be in a bit of trouble.

Now, I haven’t seen many professional skiers up close, but from what I’ve gleaned from the videos they play on a loop in most of the bars around here is that your ass shouldn’t stick out and your skis shouldn’t be pointing towards the sky, but more in line with the down ramp at the other side of the jump.  Waving your arms in mad circles (“rolling down the windows” as it’s been dubbed) isn’t very slick either.  Also I’m pretty sure the pros don’t scream “shitshitshit” as they shoot through the air. 

My skis did land first, just at the end of the down-ramp which I had thought I was going to overshoot altogether, but as I was leaning too far back I ended up slapping myself off the ice in a rapid lower-back, upper-back, head, arms combo.  It was one of the times where I was really grateful that I’d listened to the advice I'd been given and invested in a helmet at the start of the year.  Didn’t feel fantastic after it, but I did walk away, after fetching my ski pole which had come off somewhere between my first and second bounce.

Stayed out a while longer, and tried to do a box (like a rail, but much wider) which I a few weeks before I'd worked at sliding along sideways, but once again I failed to realise how much faster I would be going into it and ended up with both skis flying out from underneath me and skidding on my side all the way to the end.  Not my smoothest day at the park ever it must be said.

Afterwards I was a bit stiff and sore, and a bit stiffer and sorer yesterday, with the most tender parts being my lower legs with significant bruising (not visibly but it’s there, believe me) on my shins from the boots.  Went to bed last night at about 1am (after our sad elimination from the darts tournament, but more on that later) and then woke at 3:30 to a dull but insistent aching in my lower back and legs which kept me awake for an hour before I decided bed wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I might as well come down and do something productive.  So here we are.  It seems to have subsided a bit now, but I’m going to pass on the morning’s skiing that I had planned, which is particularly gutting as it has been puking down with beautiful fresh pow all night.  I might try to get back to sleep before I have to work at three.

As for darts, The Soaring Arrows, our team which had made its way to the semi-finals played our last game of the league yesterday after battling it out for the last thirteen or so weeks.  We threw some pretty amazing darts over the last few weeks, guys, and pulled some wins out of nowhere, clawing our way back from seemingly impossible point differences, smashing bullseyes and our seemingly unstoppable run of paralysers was great while it lasted.  Cheers.  And best of luck to Patong Dart Show in their match against D.A.R.T. tonight.

That’s all from me for now, although here is a video of one of my first jumps which I was pretty proud of although it's nothing really spectacular, sadly I didn’t get to immortalise my last one, but what can you do.  Sorry for the long intro as well.

Also the lastest KMonster blog is up on youtube.  He’s doing backflips now.  Epic.

Making up for lost time - What you've been missing.

The following is from my 'Blue Nails' blog

View of Mt Yotei from the slopes of Hirafu

After an extended period with no updates on my travels I thought it was high time I filled people in on the goings on, if they are interested, or indeed if they even remember who I am.

Anyway, for those who ARE curious to know my whereabouts, I am still on Hokkaido, the northernmost of the four main Japanese islands, working in Hirafu, a ski town in the Niseko area, famous for getting some of the best powder in the world.  I’ve been here since the end of November and have been working all the hours I can so that I’ll have a few yen to rub together so that the adventure can continue when I leave here on the 25 of March.  I won’t be riding first class, but I will be moving.

Now to try to bring you up to speed with some of the goings on between this and my last post in November.

Got from Sapporo, where I had been living, to Hirafu, by getting a lift from a friend from work who had very nicely offered to drive me, which was great as it meant that I didn’t have to be quite as painfully slow and careful in folding and rolling my gear so that every available crevice in the bag was filled (a process which usually requires several attempts and much repositioning of t-shirts and my other pair of shoes before achieving success).  It also meant that I could take much of my leftover herbs, spices and contents of my cupboards in the three small bins that I had bought to help separate my rubbish for collection and load them into the back of the car instead of leaving them behind.  I was not sorry to leave the house and my senile old landlady behind, particularly after her carry on during the few days leading up to my escape from the city.

For the two weeks prior to my departure, it had been no secret that I was planning to leave on the last Sunday of August, and my landlady had acknowledged “28^th, Sunday, Damien bye-bye”.  I knew that I’d originally paid for the apartment on the 26^th of August and that technically speaking the contract was up on the Friday, but I thought she was going to give me the two extra days until my accommodation in Niseko opened up.  I should have known better.  At 14:05 on Friday afternoon she started banging on the door, and I answered to find her pointing at the contract and basically telling me to beat it.  I hadn’t even begun packing yet, so I told her I wasn’t going, and then she told me to wait a minute while she went upstairs to get something.  I had to meet a guy who had agreed to teach me Japanese chess, so while she was up there I jumped on my bike and scarpered.

I came back later on to find a bill for the extra two days I’d be staying stuck in my letter box.  But I had absolutely no intention of paying it, even though it was under 15€ for the two nights.  I figured that I’d been done out of enough money in the bar already.

I thought that she’d probably try to get into the house while I was gone (I was going to a friend’s house for another going away dinner), so I took the door handle off the living room door, so that she’d only be able to get into the genkan (entrance area where you leave your shoes before entering the house) but no further.  I also booby trapped the front door so a few empty plastic fuel drums would tumble out when the door was opened.  Not so much to cause harm or injury, but rather so I’d know if she’d gone in.  I also left a note on the door saying “600yen per hour =” over a picture of a police car and the old woman in the back, followed by “2 days – 1500 SALE”.  A bit cheeky but I was high on rebellion at that stage.

After a lovely dinner at my friend's house I got back home before the old woman came back from the bar, forgetting about the door and so the drums tumbled out around my feet, scaring the absolute be-jojo’s out of me.  And there I waited.

My chess lessons had put me in a bit of a tactical frame of mind and so I was trying to play out all possible scenarios in my mind.  I reckoned that as she was paying me 600yen per month, which is below minimum wage, that I had her over a barrel in terms of bar work.  I also figured that she would be slow to call the guards anyway as she’d had a bit of trouble with them the week before for breaking into my neighbours place.  Her main argument in my view was the fact that the contract was very much in her favour, but I was hoping that my position was slightly stronger, especially as I could also blow the whistle on her illegally paying people to work on an incorrect visa.  Of course she also had the added advantage of being pretty proficient in Japanese, elderly and a native Sapporo-ite, but these things didn’t occur to me at the time.

When she knocked on my window at 2am she asked me about the note, saying that I was getting paid 680 yen per hour, and that the times I arrived in at 21:05 I was paid from 21:30.  No one had told me this, and I suspected it was lies, but it did undermine my main argument.  After a long debate (in which I impressed myself with my ability to make myself understood in Japanese) it was decided that I could stay in the apartment for nothing for the remaining few days, but she would be bringing a copy of my visa to immigration on Monday to see if I could really work in the bar legally (I think her ace in the hole was the threat of immigration as she thought my visa excluded me from bar work).  I was pretty confident my visa was sound, so we made peace and left it at that.

I was among the first four to arrive in the staff house, which made it easy to remember names and faces as the new staff members trickled in, as within two to three weeks nearly all of the twenty-three beds had been filled, which was, I imagine, a bit overwhelming for the last to come.

One thing I discovered on my arrival was that I would not be working in a bar as I had originally thought, but rather in the café/deli, just beside the bar.  I also would not be working nights as I thought, but in fact it would be more mornings.  These things didn’t really put me out at all; except for the fact that everyone from Sapporo keeps asking me how the bar work is going.  Actually I’m quite happy with the hours and the work, although I do need to get an early night before my 06:30 starts, but I more or less have a routine going now. 

I didn’t think that working in this area would be any good for my Japanese skills, as I’d heard most of the businesses are Aussie owned, and most of the tourists are also from down under, but, while this is almost certainly true, with the exception of Chinese New Year at the end of January when there was an invasion of punters from Hong Kong, Singapore and surrounds, I have made some good progress in my spoken ability.  At least, I think so.  What has helped most has been the fact that as well as my hours in the deli I also work a few shifts a week in another small shop owned by the same company, where I work alongside one of several Japanese girls, most of whom don’t speak all that much English, so we have to struggle through conversations with a bit of a mix of both languages.  Lately I’ve noticed that there has been a lot less English in the mix, though, which is surely a positive sign.

As for the snowboarding, well…

Before I left I had received not one but two snowboards for absolutely nothing from a neighbour and a friend of a friend (but now a friend of mine as well) who had no more use for them, as well as boots, snowboard pants, and jacket.  The gear was great, and even if it wasn’t I couldn’t say much as the guys hadn’t asked for anything in return for them (although I did drop them out a bottle of whiskey – Jameson, naturally – and wine as a thank you gift).  In the end though, the boots were a little bit too big for me, and while I was searching for new ones I came across a set of skis, boots and poles for about the same price as the boots alone.  So I made the switch, and so it is that I’ve been on the skis since.

I don’t get out as much as I’d originally thought I would, partially because I was working 50 hour weeks during the busy period, but mostly because generally I tend to go out for a few days, do something stupid, hurt myself and then spend a week or so recovering, and then go out and do it all again.  I am improving, but slowly.

This will have to do for now, as it’s already a bit of an epic tale that tells of nothing, but at least it will let people know I’m still alive and typing the same drivel.

There will hopefully be more exciting updates quite soon.

Oh, by the way, one of the guys I'm living with is rocking the video blogs on Youtube every week.  He has some great snowboarding footage, along with wicked music.  And now and again I pop up in the background, although there are no ski shots yet.  But one of these days I might make the cut.  Worth a look, so here's the link to his channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/kieranjamesharris