R3 Day 8 - Chest, Shoulders & Triceps

So the other day I couldn't get Pure Cardio and Cardio Abs done due to technical difficulties. I was going to do Cardio Abs inside with the kids but I saw that there was a lot of jumping involved and scrapped that idea. So that day was a write off. I couldn't get up yesterday morning to do Chest, Shoulders & Triceps, so I did half of it with Will in the evening, and the other half when he went to bed. Got to break it up like that or I won't have time to watch Lost. I've nearly finished the first season. I've forgotten how bloody dense this show is (not stupid dense, but dense as in full). When I half remember all the stuff that happens in the next few seasons, does it ever get silly? I wonder. Is there a point where you think, aw, c'mon, that's a little bit too crazy. I can't remember one.
I bought a charger for my iPod that i can plug into the mains the other day. On my way back from the shop, it occurred to me that I may not be able to use my iPod while it's charging, like I can't use it while it's charging on a computer. I can use it through iTunes, but not through the actual iPod itself. So I thought, that would completely negate it's usefulness. So I tried it, and I can use it while it's charging. Strange. Maybe the engineers at Apple foresaw this. I doubt it. Just lucky.
So here I am back at work and back to a five-day week. Problem is, there's no work to do. I got some stuff I could do, sure, but I've done the stuff that needs to get done, and can't bring myself to do the stuff that doesn't have to be done for another week yet, and would only take twenty minutes to do anyway. Instead I'm going to do some studying, write a little of my novel, and think of some ideas for a gym that I want to set up in the garage, for Will and Jo Jo more than for me. Lot's of climbing ropes and stuff. I told Junko of my plans to put a climbing rope in the garage for Will and before I had even finished talking she said "you can't." There's always a Japanese person around to tell you you can't do something. So like a Japanese person I said, oh, okay, with every intention of doing it anyway.
A lot of people ask me what I do here. I work in a reasonably large robotics company (not one anyone's heard of, though I'm sure our robots put together some of the boards in the appliances you use on... an everyday ba... sis... now I'm bored.) I translate reports, manuals, and other different kinds of reports. Whenever I tell people this back home a surprising number of them say, "gee, you mean someone translates those things? I can never understand them!" Well, that's a little insensitive, but yea, I might have. No, the machines my company makes are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the manuals are huge. Basically, my company is a small Japanese company that around five years ago somehow happened to build a machine that became the industry standard and made millions and millions of dollars, and now it is trying to catch up with it's success. It is a typical, conservative Japanese company, with morning stretches and pep talks, office ladies, and signs everywhere telling us how important greetings are. Last year we had a uniform change, the first in ten years. Instead of khaki pants, we now wear navy blue pants. It's fair to say that there will never be a crazy hat day where I work.
I'm one of five Westerners here. Four translators and one guy in Sales. There are some Chinese translators here too, and about 600 Japanese. I was lucky to get this job because I was teaching English for six years which was becoming more and more difficult to stomach. Here I have security and routine, and a challenging, if not demanding job. There's no rush. I didn't have any interest in Japan when I came here, I just came here for something to do, and to get away from Australia where I was languishing. I'd like to go back there one day, but only if I can get a good job there, something I've not been able to do in the past. I don't mind living in Japan, though I worry about losing touch with the real world where real things are happening. Nothing can touch this place. I don't really have much contact with Japanese people. My wife's family and friends, Nori, a couple of people at work, and that's about it. The language is the biggest issue of course. Speaking another language is done with a totally different part of the brain than reading or writing or understanding. It's weird. I was watching a Japanese comedian on Youtube last night and understood just about all of what he was saying, but that doesn't mean I can speak it. Some people can. It's hard for me. Maybe I should start buttoning up the top button of my shirt as a sign that I find it hard to do things with my brain. I read an article that doing that is code for "retard" in the movies.
Nori told me that when he was in America he was called a "fucking Jap" all the time. My wife was in Australia for six months and was called a monkey twice. I have been here ten years, and not once have I been racially abused. I am treated differently because of my race, but it's not mean. I'm not saying Japanese aren't racist. Race is what defines them. Even if I get citizenship, I wouldn't be Japanese. Even though my sons were born here, they will be called foreigners all their lives. They are not Japanese. If I was Korean or Chinese I'm guessing my experiences would be a lot different. The Japanese consider themselves the superior "coloured" race, above blacks, other Asians, and South Americans, but below whites. They see white people as beautiful, lucky, and lazy. They will not sit next to me on a train because they feel inferior to me. It's called "foreigner complex" and it's their problem, not mine, so it's not racist in their eyes. Most Japanese people never meet a foreigner in their lives. Isn't that a wild thing to consider? Everyone you ever meet looks the same as you, talks the same as you, had the same experiences as you. The one thing they dread more than death itself is being ostracized from the group. Being different is death. I once read that if you get some colourful paint and paint a streak of it onto a zebra, it will be dead within a week. The lion's eye is attracted, and they become a target. I'd like to try that if I ever go to Africa. Just fuck a zebra's day up with a spraycan of wild pink. Pffffft! "What the fuck are you doing, man! Oh, shit! you asshole!" and off he'd run. Nowhere to hide, zebra! Ahahaha!
I think it's like that here. It's all the fault of rice. Growing rice is so labour intensive that it took the whole village to do it, and if the village rejected you, you died of starvation. So you try not to rock the boat, you do what you are told, and you don't stand out. Most rice-growing cultures are like this. Western culture is more the lone farmer growing his own stuff, and selling the excess. More of a "don't touch my shit our I'll kill you" culture. Not judging, just saying.
There. Just summed up the differences between Eastern and Western civilization there for ya. You're welcome.
God, this blog is turning into a joke. Gotta tighten it up!