Calling Hertford

I telephoned Hertford today, not the town of my birth but near enough. I grew up outside Hertford, but spent far more time in Hertford than is really necessary in any one lifetime. I'm struggling to think of any attractions...I guess you could say my current home, Yamagata, is a step up in the world then.

So I telephoned the society for old boys and girls of my old school, seeking some information, some bits and bobs I might be able to show the kids at school here. This morning a teacher who spent two years in an Uzbekistan school and returned in April gave a talk about it, with videos and photos and everything. What can I say, I was inspired.

'You're calling from Japan now?'

'Yes'

'You're at home?'

'Yes'

You're not in Japan, you're at home, in Hertingfordbury?'

'No, I'm calling from Japan.'

I reached the school holiday staff. I'm a long way from home but I've made my very own home here. So it's kinds like I left home and came full circle, in an odd way.

'Let me see, we have two e-mail addresses here...g-i-t-guy@hotmail.com'

All I could think was, 'Say it, go on say it. You can't bring yourself to say it! Say it!'

I can't say I've missed Hertford, nor Hertfordians.

I -heart- Yamagata

It's nearly a year to the day since I came to Yamagata; therefore, it's time for some reflections. And where better seek a starting point than my own starting point nearly 365 days ago, the four-and-a-half-page long Rough Guide entry? It begins...

'Few tourists make it to Yamagata, a large, workaday city ringed with high mountains, and those that do are usually just passing through...'

And so friends leave and a few strangers somewhere else in the world start packing their bags for Yamagata, Japan.

'...The district's west side is bounded by the train tracks and Kajo koen...on the site of Yamagata castle, where there's a moderately interesting municipal museum...'

The 'site', mind, the site of Yamagata castle. They ran out of money re-building it and now all that, er, remains, is a bridge that leads to nowhere.

'...the interior of this forner Prefectural Office (Tues-Sun 9a.m.-4.30p.m.; free) has been magnificently restored...don't forget to look up at the ceilings' spectacular plasterwork- it was all handcrafted by one man at the rate of 15cm per day...'

One man. 15 cm per day. Things move, here in Yamagata.
Next,

'...the Yamagata Art Museum...boasts a small collection of major European names...but unless there's a special exhibition of interest it's not really worth the entrance fee...'

Well then.

But enough of smarmy interjections, wisecracks and lightning judgements. I'm prying my way further and further into this town. I'm here for another year.

Another one of those weird nights

Just after having visited Spice Magic, Yamagata's very own (authentic!) Indian curry house for what we thought was Mike's last visit before he jets off back to the U S of A, we got a surprise. The Spice is right on the Nishi Bypass and all the night traffic was zipping past and the owner is awkward enough, without the social pitfalls of inviting us to a lock-in at his restaurant.

A lock-in at an Indian!

'Beer, you like beer, we have beer and whiskey, we eat together, when you come?'. Magnificent.

Next I ended up on the street outside Tully's coffee place with a bunch of skateboarders and a bottle of tequila. In Britan it would have been called 'loitering with intent' or 'disturbing the peace' (Tully's is on the main street after all) but here in Japan, it's just something to do on a Tuesday night.

The Spice is Right, Hanagasa Flower Hat Festival, Kensuke

 
 
 

I have got so much to learn about digital cameras

....

'Gimmick or not, it has to be said that Fuji’s FD system is very good, as far as such systems go. It will detect any face in the central two-thirds of the frame almost instantly, including faces in photographs or on TV and even my Star Wars action figures. However it only detects faces that are looking directly at the camera, and even a slight angle is enough to confuse it, as is strong side lighting. Also for some reason it will sometimes recognise cats’ faces, but doesn’t seem to like dogs.'

....

Crafty Buggers

There's one in every year group, the kid who acts like he ate too many fizzy colabottles and stood on his head, the one who clamours for attention and screams out in class at everything and gets away with it (this is Japan, watch, here it goes: win[disci......pline]dow).

In the third grade it's Hiroya, who sat in English the other day rubbing a piece of sandpaper against itself for 20 minutes. He's calmed down a lot though, and so has the second grade's number one cheeky blighter, Shuto. He got gangly and his hero is Henry, so he can't be all bad.

I was talking with Shuto in football practice the other day and he was trying to speak in English, no jokes, no shouting and the crafty bugger didn't even break eye contact to look over my shoulder. He had a bbq or something- that's not the point. Moments later, K-T Komatani Sensei appeared from behind me and said well dones and little by littles to Shuto and I suddenly realised the little fella hadn't been trying to impress me after all. He was hunting bigger game.

K-T stopped and started talking to me in English about a funeral he had to go to and I thought it a little strange for him to stop there, on the way to his car, to tell me that. A little late, again, I clocked his plot. Shuto, fairly bowled over by this demonstration of how it's done, himself impressed, started to tell K-T as much, asking him how he spoke English so fluently. 'Little by little' he said over his shoulder, walking to his car and a funeral.

Kensuke

has been sitting behind the goal on the step between the sports gravel ground and the road that curls around it and out of the school grounds. He plods along and dumps himself down and while I run about collecting stray and mis-hit footballs during practice, he is slouched amongst his bags. He's got the same bags, the same number of bags as everyone else but some how he manages to make it look like he's been weighed down like a Nepalese pack mule.

His hair doesn't reach all the way down to his ears so he's got these bald patches and he wears a pair of electric blue-framed glasses. Goofy teeth too and that's our Kensuke.

His cousin Maika was at Nanachu last year, now having graduated to High School, and she was as friendly and lucky-go as li'l Kensuke. He is one funny little man.

In a week of turbulence and euphoric moments, those spent sat beside Kensuke behind the goal, in the quiet moments when footballs have stopped flying, speaking bad Englsih and worse Jpanese, those have been my favourite.