Bluetooth Hat

Here in Japan, a good headphone system is a must in order to deflect yourself from xenophobic adolescents who like to interrupt your walk with shouts of “Hello!”, sometimes from across the street. These are not necessarily friendly attempts at communication. Most of the time they are trying to illicit a reaction so their friends can laugh.

Any Western person who has lived in Asia has had this experience. If you are here for a cup of tea, one or two years, you might actually enjoy these interactions. I have known people who seem to seek them out. Not me. When I commute to work, run an errand, or go for a hike I want to zone out and block any chance of such an encounter from occurring. And a decent pair of headphones helps me get in an unbreakable zone of contentment.

Which brings me to this rather interesting Bluetooth winter hat I was gifted over the holidays. I’d like to refer to it by its brand, but this particular model doesn’t appear to have one. That’s a first for me. No brand listed anywhere in the instructions. No “Made in” label anywhere on the product. This quite literally might have fallen of a truck in China. Or India, based on the male model on the box. But never mind that. What could go wrong when invisible wireless technologies are whizzing around my head. Warranty not included!

“Excuse me, while I charge my hat.”

The instructions are almost incomprehensible; a mixture of Google Translate and drunken carelessness. Luckily my years of correcting incomprehensible English “essays” by poorly instructed Japanese junior high school students gives me impeccable skills at parsing the incomprehensible, and extracting meaning. Yet surprisingly, it actually works! And pretty easily.

Just turn on your Bluetooth function on your device (I use an old Galaxy S2 as my podcast player). Then turn on the hat by holding down the play button for a few seconds. A robotic female voice will then say rather loudly that Bluetooth has been activated. And off you go. Any sound that your device produces is sent through the hat’s “headphones.” I use quotes because it is more like two small stereo speakers. The sound quality is decent but can be easily heard by others if the volume is even slightly turned up. Not the best for Japanese public transport where silence is a virtue.

Aside from the lack of sound containment, this winter hat is great for local snowshoe treks and long hours shoveling the endless Sapporo snow. It easily holds it’s charge seems to work rather reliably. As long as your device is within a few meters of your hat, decent quality sound can be piped strait into your brain – wirelessly.

Yogurt Alcohol?

Japan loves its yogurt. Yogurt-like drinks are still delivered by bicycle daily and supermarket shelves are full of varieties. So I wasn’t entirely surprised when I came across this rather unique crossbreed, yogurt liqueur, in a small food atelier. There are quite a few mass produced yogurt based spirits, but this particular hooch was made my a small producer, hand sealed, and only available domestically.

One of the few products in Japan that correctly used an English phrase in its marketing. Too bad it is wasted on a yogurt liqueur made by a local producer!

So what’s the verdict? Imagine eggnog, mixed with yogurt, expired milk, with a hint of blue cheese. Weirdly, this wasn’t that bad. But definitely a once a year thing. Probably not going to start my day with this particular breakfast of champions.

Mahjong – A Love Story

It’s that time of year here in Sapporo, where the snow just keeps on coming, homes are cleaned, and KFC pre-orders are made (oh, we’ll get to that). But for my mother and father-in-law it means mahjong. More accurately, 3 days of Japanese riichi mahjong that suck every brain cell from my head and leaves my spirit in complete shambles, pining for a simple game of checkers.

I often have thought that playing mahjong with my wife’s family was some sort of test; that they had intentionally created its bizarre rules as a means to frustrate me, to make me break and scare the white barbarian devil out of me. But alas, that was just wishful thinking. The game, and its absurd rules are very real, developed over the course of many decades until it reached its current sadomasochistic state.

I won’t bore you with the extensive rule set that riichi mahjong burdens its players with. There are numerous attempts (European Mahjong Association, Wikipedia) to document game play, but they usually read like they were made by some AI on a sake bender. For a more accurate walkthrough, I recommend this rather long youtube video featuring a headless narrator. Even he sounds inhuman. Like he spent too much time playing this ass backwards Chinese-import torture game.

But, to give you just a taste of the sheer incomprehensibility of the game, here is how a game of riichi mahjong initiates during the New Year’s holiday in snowy Sapporo.

1. First, a mahjong tabletop (perfectly square bordered with raised wooden edges and covered by felt) is placed on top of an equally square table. Four chairs are put around said table, a fifth is put to the side to hold various extra implements required for the game and/or for the dog to sleep on. Once this is done we all wait in stressful un-anticipation for the game to begin at a later point.

2. “Mahjong da yo!!!!” is exclaimed by my father-in-law, at which point we all stop doing whatever trivial task we were concerned with and run to the mahjong table. Swiftness is the order of the day here. I once left the toilet mid-crap in order to not shame the mahjong gods by being tardy. Nature can wait!

3. Now the real opening moments of the game begin. 136 mahjong tiles lay haphazardly on the table. First we must find the 4 different wind tiles – North, East, South, and West (or Pei, Ton, Nan, Sha – using the on’yomi pronunciation). These are placed face down and shuffled. Then each person (in our family we start eldest to youngest) chooses one of these tiles. The player who chose East (Ton) will then choose where they will sit for the duration of the game. Choose wisely. Think about sunlight from the windows, access to bathrooms, and where in relation to your seat alcoholic beverages can be placed. This is the one decision in the game where you have true agency and a means to affect your personal happiness.

After the East player sits, the player who chose South sits counterclockwise to them, followed by West, then North. If your still awake and reading this, you might have noticed how this seating arrangement is completely ass backward and at odds with all modern knowledge of geographic space.

Of course, this doesn’t  represent who will start the game as East, South, West, and South respectively. That would be too logical. Nope, now the East player has to role a pair of dice and count counterclockwise starting with the dice roller. The player the number falls on is the new East. Just kidding! No they aren’t. This player must roll the dice again following the same process. The result oft this roll finally determines who will be East and all the other winds fall in place. You could easily skip this and roll the dice just once, but rules are the rules.

4. Now, after that rather joyless game of musical chairs. the real work begins. Work? You didn’t think we were actually going to start playing did you? A common novice mistake. Mahjong is not about the game. It is about the struggle. We now have to meticulously arrange these 136 tiles into four, two-tiered walls. Since most commoners lack the assistance expensive automatic mahjong tables provide, this becomes an arduous process requiring manual dexterity, quickness, and a non-Parkinson’s steadiness of hand. All the players mix the tiles, sweeping their hands manically around the tabletop. Then each player makes a row of 17 tiles, face down, then another row of 17 tiles which are stacked on top of each other via a magical slight of hand that after four years of practice I have only just mastered. This creates a “wall”, and all four walls are slid to the center to create a perfect square. Don’t let any of the tiles fall off the wall as you slide them forward. Just don’t.

5. Finally, we can begin our game of mahjong. Just kidding! No, we got a while to go before any “fun” can be experienced.

Next we break out the dice again. The dealer, representing the East wind, rolls the dice, and starting with themselves counts counterclockwise the number rolled. That player’s wall is then seperated, or “broken”, by counting from the right the number of tiles matching the number on the dice. Then, counting from the right of this break, after seven tiles pairs, another break is made, setting aside 14 tiles know as “the dead wall”. Got that? Okay, moving on.

6. Next, a special “dora indicator” tile is flipped over from the top of the “dead wall”, three tiles to the right. This will be used to determine bonus points in your mahjong hand, should the game actually begin at some point.

Funny fact. The dora isn’t actually the tile revealed. It is the next tile in the progression. So if a 5 bamboo is showing, bonus points are awarded if you have 6 bamboo in your hand. Ain’t majhong cooky?

7. We having fun yet? Now comes the deal. Careful, I’ve actually developed dyslexia during this part of the set up. Starting with the dealer (East), and moving to the next player counterclockwise, 4 tiles are taken from wall (left of the dead wall) clockwise. So, maybe this diagram can help with understanding the mental gymnastics needed to execute this correctly:

After each player has 12 tiles, the dealer takes 2 tiles, skipping one in between. The remaining players then take one tile each.

Congratulations! You are now ready to play riichi mahjong.

Suffice to say, it takes quite a few mahjong nights to get this procedure down. I was happy just being able to do this without any serious hiccups. Actual game play is another matter. Usually at the midway point of the game I require a rather stiff drink to numb myself. Surprisingly, this helps my overall gameplay.

So give riichi mahjong a try. I’m sure it will be a rewarding experience.

Resolutions, Resolutions

1. Floss twice a day

2. Talk less / Blog more

3. Snowshoe / Snowtrek often

4. Use social media more 

5. Learn Python and make some contribution to an open source project

6. Read one book at a time

7. Hoard money / discard that which doesn’t “spark joy”

8. Beat Super Mario Bros.

9. Transition to private English lessons and other means of employment

10. Do not allow imbeciles to penetrate my inner peace, which I am also cultivating

Review: Spark Joy: An Illustrated Guide to the Life-Changing KonMari Method

Spark Joy: An Illustrated Guide to the Life-Changing KonMari Method

Spark Joy: An Illustrated Guide to the Life-Changing KonMari Method by Marie Kondō

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I have a secret dark fantasy:

Marie Kondo spends the day traveling throughout Tokyo, helping others to seperate objects that spark joy from those that don’t. She does this gracefully, with a balanced air of Shinto/Buddhist non-attachment and anthropomorphic mysticism. Her movements are measured, her dress immaculate and always white, and her speech calming to all who come in contact with her. She is the human fulfillment of a world which is curated to spark joy.

Marie Kondo returns to her home in the evening. Her husband opens the door for her before she can even take out her keys from her uncluttered handbag. The sweet smells of tomato based pasta eminate from the doorway. He has been cooking. Dinner is ready!

Marie Kondo steps forward, and in a fit of pychopathic rage punches her husband squarly in the eye. She shouts, “Spark Joy, Bitch!” She then unleashes a primal scream that shatters every glass in the apartment. Her husband shouts, “Why!!?” But Konmari just runs to the corner, behind the sofa, and cowers in the fetal position. She cries herself to sleep and wakes in the morning, ready to help another client spark joy.

End Scene

All kidding aside, this follow up to her magnum opus was a rather swift read with interesting pointers to help guide us through the tidying process. Initially I was worried that this “illustrated guide” would be 200 pages of cutesy sketches of how to fold socks. But surpisingly the illustrated elements weren’t that extensive and there is substantial more text than I expected. Some of her insights might be a bit lost in cultural translation for Western audiences (who might not show as much affinity for stuffed animals and calligraphy), but on a whole this volume serves as a decent supplement to those wishing to take tidying to the extreme.

View all my reviews

Because Japan

Since my first visits to Japan, I would come across a variety of gadgets in stores like Don Quijote and Tokyu Hands, that made me scratch my head. Some of the more interesting of those quirky products are beer can attachments that create a creamier, more substantial head after pouring. This has always perplexed me. Beer foam, serves no purpose but for asthetic pleasure. Besides, with the right tilt and speed of pour, anyone can transfer a brew from can to mug/glass that results in a decent enough presentation.

Man was I wrong! Apparently, the Japanese have an almost OCD like desire to produce tall milky white foam heads on every beer they pour. You can see it in their TV commercials and especially on larger billboard ads. Without an inordinant amount of creamy ediface, a beer is almost worthless here in old Nippon! How such an asthetic quality got elevated to this degree is beyond the scope of this blog. But needless to say, it slightly disturbs me.

Beer foam perfection has recently creeped it’s way into my daily life.  I was recently gifted one of these contraptions for Christmas. What can I say? It makes beer foam look better. That’s about it. I suppose it polishes a turd, like Sapporo’s Mugi to Hop The Gold (麦とホップ). But stay away from my canned Guinness, you cursed devil machine!

 

 

Ain’t No Snowfall Deep Enough

When one of the most intense snowstorms in the last 50 years finally cleared out, I was itching to get back on trail. But I worried that 80+ centimeters of the unpacked goodstuff might make the going a bit rough.

The step up… this might take a while

Just getting up onto the traihead to Asahiyama was gonna be a chore, but with a ninja-like standing high jump I managed (it wasn’t that smooth). After I took my first steps I realized that the normal 20 minute accent was going to take much longer.

Each step sank me up to my knees

Reaching the top took about an hour. But the solitude along the way was well worth it. Often some of the best views are in the trees, where the blanket of snow trapped in the branches looks like a web against a blue mid-morning sky.

With fresh, deep snow in every direction just as my winter break gets underway, it’s time to take this show on the road. Next up: Moerenuma Park.

Review: The Nordic Theory of Everything: In Search of a Better Life

The Nordic Theory of Everything: In Search of a Better Life

The Nordic Theory of Everything: In Search of a Better Life by Anu Partanen

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Not unexpectededly, I loved this book. It thoroughly dismantles the common American rhetoric about European “welfare states” and flips the script on perceptions of dependency in modern capitalist societies. Who is dependent on whom? Are Nordic nations dependent on the state as many US politicions would accuse, or are Americans unhealthly dependent on their employers, spouses, parents, and even children (in old age)? It would appear to be the latter, as the author breaks down the harrowing true costs of American health insurance, its polorizing education system, and unhealthy addiction to money.

There is indeed a better way for modern governments to shape the lives of its people that gives them true autonomy, true freedom, and a more balanced life. Anyone who has childen, has dealt with predatory insurance companies, or has faced the debilitating costs of US higher education should read this book.

View all my reviews

Not Dark Yet

I love Hokkaido’s winter. When I strap on my Tubbs Wilderness snowshoes I feel a true sense of relief, like their 180 degree rotation bindings should be part of my natural gait. In fact, when I am not wearing them I feel downright naked, and slightly depressed. So I try to hit the snowshoeing trail as much as my schedule provides.

I had done well earlier in the week, taking advantage of two early release days from my work prison. I managed to squeeze in some rapid up and downs on Asahiyama before the sunset around 4:00 PM.

But this Friday, after a long work week I found myself needing the stress relief that only snowshoeing can provide. But alas, I wasn’t home until around 4:30. What’s a snowshoe crazed gaijin to do?

Strap on my Petzl TIKKA headlamp and hike to the trail head just like it’s midday! As it turns out, snowshoeing at night is the perfect situation for me. Whereas a day romp in the powder might have me encounter an occasional human, a night snowshoe took away any chance of such a terrible beast crossing my path. I could just turn on my podcast of choice (in this case “The Retro Hour”), zone out, and enjoy the trail. Plus, pure white snow acts almost like a self illuminator, so the headlamp wasn’t even needed all that much.

Asahiyama even keeps the lights on. Just for me I suppose?

Looking forward to using both day and night to my advantage the rest of this snowshoeing season!

I Smell Snow…

Fresh powder as snowshoeing season begins on Asahiyama

When 48 hours of near continuous snowfall dumped on Sapporo this past weekend, I had one thought on my mind – laying the first tracks in the 3-4 feet of unpacked powder. Even as I shoveled snow for nearly 5 total hours, I mentally planned my routes for the snowshoeing season that was suddenly upon us. A full 2 weeks earlier than the last couple years I might add!

So when I was released from the prison of work shortly after lunch on Monday (great timing for an early release day), I bolted to the tram, got home in about 25 min, did a quick change, grabbed my Tubbs Wilderness size 36, and run-walked to the closest trail head featuring ungroomed snow trails.

Blue skies, and untouched drifts await me at Asahiyama’s summit.

When I reached the trail I literally had to do a standing jump up onto the snow to get started. The powder was nearly too deep! Took me a bit of time to re-calibrate myself to snowshoe life, but within a few minutes I was on my way up a pristine virgin snow trail, untouched by humans.

Those tracks…yeh, they are mine.

There’s more snowshoeing to come in the coming months, but Asahiyama Park is kind of my home turf and a great place to start winter snow trekking – especially when your body is severely in need of a tune-up.