Random street scenes

In many ways it's these trivial things that maintain my interest in Japan and in living here. You just don't get scenes like this when you go shopping in the UK, and although it's easy to get blase about them after being here for a few years they really are quite wonderful.

I especially like the way those guys are just sitting around the security guard, who remains standing.

Natto

Since I ran out of muesli (bought from the only foreign food store in Hakodate) I've reverted to eating the tasty traditional Japanese breakfast you see here. It smells like it looks, but these things grow on you.

mmm... fermented soy beans. You have to wonder who it was that originally thought the soy beans going off in his/her larder might make a tasty snack with soy sauce and rice.

Men at work

This says 'we'll do everything possible to be nice and friendly and incovenience you as little as possible so we humbly request that you cooperate with us'. Or something like that.

A typical public service poster with obligatory cute cartoon. I can't help thinking that UK signs would benefit from taking the same approach.

(and yes, the police signs and all the other village people are represented in exactly the same style!)

High school festivals

These were created by my favourite goth student, who seems to spend every waking hour slaving over her craft.

















Painted nails. Essential for any high school rebel.






































Cool painting.

I was totally blown away by the amount of effort that had gone into this festival. Three days, during which the sheer volume of creativity on display would be enough to stun me even if it weren't all of such a high standard!

There were films, dramas, songs, dances, banners, artwork, stall after stall of cool stuff... all created by students who'd devoted months of their lives to the event. Wish I'd been a bit more snappy with the camera.

Brand names

No shortage of these examples around, but I particularly like the idea of drinking pocari sweat. Imagine a huge, moist, airless sauna-like room with hundreds of these little pocari critters engaged in various exercises while others run around with collecting cups or mopping towels...

Nice work if you can get it

I've no idea what this woman is mumbling, or what function she's performing, and neither do any of the dozen or so Japanese I've asked. She seems to be part of the scenery, like a lamp post or something, only with the ability to move secretly when no-one is looking.

Random festival ahoy!

I bombed it out of work when I saw this lot passing by in order to take a few snapshots before my next class started.

Recognise her?

Here she is from the back, complete with red bridge and Noface - the green kanji on the back spells out the festival name.

Blurry but good

Yay! Elmo!

And finally the enthusiastic bearers of Ampaman.

These are all school teams, carrying their papier mache efforts on their shoulders and having a damn good time of it too. A good few dozen of these floats passed by, and I'm told fireworks and 'fireballs' will feature wherever they've ended up.

Earlier in the day we had black-tinted saloons cruising down the street, loudspeakers blaring out some kind of propaganda. From what I could gather from my students they belonged to a group that's considered as dangerous as the Yakuza, fanatically loyal to the long-abandoned god-emperor concept and fully lubricated in their killings and dealings by hefty bribes to all and sundry.

Weird having that kind of thing so out in the open, and being told not to look too hard at them as they pass while all the time their loudspeakers blast away...

Not every visit to a Japanese dentist...

...ends in a horror story. Although I've heard tales of nine-hour long wisdom tooth pulling sessions et al. I'm pretty damn chuffed with the service and the shiny replacement filling I have to repair the damage left by my previous NHS dentist. Of course, it cost me about 45 quid this time around, but I'm led to believe that's a hefty discount on account of the dentist playing rugby with a friend of mine. Or something.

By way of comparison, here is the sludgy gray mess that represents the ten year old efforts of my godawful patronising bastard NHS dentist. Yes I mean you, Dr. Beattie - you made my girlfriend cry, you fucked up four of my teeth and you're fat. Sausage fingers.

Interestingly, the only kind of anaesthetic they used, if any, was a simple spray despite the depth of the drilling and proximity to the pulp. No lop-sided numb-face syndrome this time around...

Shiny squids ahoy!

I, for one, welcome our new squid overlords.