My Second Taiko Performance

On Saturday, October 13^th, I had my second taiko performance.  This performance went above and beyond the usual gig, however, as my group hosted the event, which featured two guest artists, both professional taiko players, and performances from the local elementary schools I teach at, and several other taiko groups from Tome city.  I fully intended to write a blog about it earlier, but I became terribly ill right after this event, partly due to overworking myself leading up to the event, and the lack of heat in my life at the time when the warmth of summer quickly faded.  So, without further adieu, here is a quick summation of how my performance from over a month ago went, and the pictures I took.  I also have three pictures of me performing, for those of you wondering how ridiculous I look in a taiko getup.

Set up

From about 2 p.m., we gathered at the local temple, and began setting up.  The men were putting together the tents and other structures, while the women and kids were preparing the vegetables for the soup we sold later, as well as the onigiri (rice balls) for us to snack on before the performances.  After the preparations were mostly complete, we threw three of our senior members in the back of a Cushman pick-up truck, the largest I’ve ever seen, and off they went, with signs displaying information about the concert that night, to drive around town and recruit last-minute audience members.  The three were playing some of our tunes while driving, and one of my junior high school students, Kai, was on a loud speaker, making the verbal announcements as they drove.

The Concert

The concert itself began at 5:30, and started with a performance from each of the local elementary schools.  Many of my students proceeded to harass me upon realizing I exist outside of school, and they all performed their pieces well.  Yokoyama Elementary performed a famous local dance meant to ward off potential fires.  This dance resulted after a devastating fire that ravaged Yokoyama in ancient times.  Yanaizu Elementary performed similar works, also involving some taiko drumming along with yokobue (Japanese transverse bamboo flute) playing.

After they finished performing, my group performed a piece to start off for the local visiting groups.  I did not play this piece, as I had not yet learned the parts.  I stood back and watched as the other members played.  After our performance, the guest groups played, and I was surprised to see Sang, a fellow ALT in Tome, dressed in taiko gear.  I soon learned he was part of another local group that performed later.  I managed to get some good pictures of his group performing that I gave him later.  They performed several pieces, many of which involved impressive movement from drum to drum, as well as playing on each other’s drums.  It was slightly reminiscent of marching snare lines that do tricks, but better.

Then came the guest artists.  Their performance was inspiring and powerful.  At one point, as shown in the pictures, the man dressed in nothing more than a loin cloth, and his female companion dressed in a similarly cold outfit.  Mind you, this concert happened just after the cold began to set in, and I had been freezing my tail off even with pants on.  The cold didn’t seem to bother these performers.  Instead it seemed to enhance their abilities, perhaps giving them a meditation or focus point external to the music.  Either way, all the pieces they performed were delivered with precision and power.  It was incredible listening to the sound they were able to produce on the o-daiko, the big drum.  To strike such a huge drum and still produce a discernable note with an attack and significant sustain takes a lot of muscle and properly directed energy.  They also performed on the various other drums, including the smaller “snare drum-like” shime-daiko, the double-headed okedou-daiko, and the wine-barrel-sized nagado-daiko. 

After the guest artists had completed their performances, my group joined with Sang’s to perform the finale.  The piece is called Tsuzumine and was the only piece in my repertoire at the time.  The part I play is on the okedou-daiko, the double-headed drum I mentioned earlier, and playing it alongside new members of another group added to the fun.  It was a bit hectic as Sang’s group and my group had never rehearsed together, so inevitably we had been practicing at different tempos (for some reason, they don't believe in metronomes here, and I have a rant about that for another day).  But we ultimately began and ended the piece together, and mostly stayed in the same place through the middle, so we called it a success, bowed to thunderous applause, and proceeded to clean up the drums before partying at the favorite restaurant across the street.  

Pictures

Here is the decorated advertisement vehicle:

This is Sang's group performing:

These are pictures of the professionals:

These are my friend Aki's pictures of me performing with Kumi, the other okedo-daiko:

"Japan is Cold"

After being accepted to the JET Programme, they made us go through a lot of “orientations” in which former and current JET participants got to stand on a soap box and tell us all the things they were underprepared for.  Many of them complained that, “Japan is cold!”  I would like to address the problems with this very basic and useless phrase:

First, I am from Flagstaff, Arizona.  Yes, the same Arizona that is famous for cacti and rattlesnakes.  Also the same state that is famous for featuring a more-than 12,000 foot mountain, at the base of which is Flagstaff, at a lovely and chilly 7,000 feet.  I came from the bowels of hell in southern California, where winter never came close to freezing and snow was mythical, and I had absolutely no problem adjusting to Flagstaff.  None whatsoever.  Not even after getting an average of 4 hours of sleep and walking home in blizzards at 1 am after late practice sessions at the music building was I ever chronically ill or at all uncomfortable with the weather.  In fact, I loved it. 

Now, having gone to Northern Arizona University for college, in Flagstaff, Arizona, naturally I was surrounded by other in-state college kids who had come from the desert.  These “desert-babies,” as other Flagstaff hippies liked to refer to them, loved to complain about the cold in much the same way these JETs complained about Japan’s winter.  Although southern California wasn’t quite as hot as Phoenix, Bullhead, or even Lake Havasu, I felt that if I was okay adjusting to the cold, these “desert-babies” had no reason to complain.  After all, we had awesome heaters in our dorms and didn’t have to pay for the utilities.

Which brings me to my next point: every house and every building in America has this thing called “central heating.”  And most also have “central cooling.”  Flagstaff doesn’t have this because summer isn’t hot enough to warrant the cost, but that’s another discussion.  Central heating is this thing we take for granted in America where most all buildings have been constructed with these features built-in since World War II.  However, this is something Japan does NOT have.  Somehow, despite having three orientations in which a plethora of people complained, “Japan is COLD!” this was conveniently not mentioned.

Going along with that, Japanese houses and buildings have no insulation.  Yes, that’s right, not only do buildings lack sufficient heating and cooling, but they also have no means of insulating themselves from the extremes of the seasons.  I have no idea why this is, whether it is related to building codes in Japan, something to do with regulations about compromising earthquake resistance, increasing the potential for mold or otherwise, I don’t know.  What I do know is that this detail was entirely ignored by absolutely every person who complained, “JAPAN IS COLD!!!” 

Why in the hell native English speakers, who are asked to teach their language in a foreign country, can’t seem to properly communicate key details is rather disconcerting.  After all, “cold” is a relative term that is thrown around in a variety of situations and places from a snowboarding trip at Mammoth Mountain to a 75-degree-Fahrenheit day in Tucson.  Therefore, for those of you planning to visit Japan in the winter, please be advised that it is cold BECAUSE buildings and places of residence lack the heating and insulation most Western countries are accustomed to.  

Japanese School Culture

Part 1: Class Procedure

I’ve noticed some key differences between American schools and Japanese schools since teaching in Japan, some of which are widely known by Americans (junior high and high school students wear uniforms) and some are less commonly known (using 2 sets of shoes, one indoor and one outdoor).  Here’s an overview of some things I discovered after a bit of initial confusion in regards to class procedure:

Class Procedure:

In America, students move from classroom to classroom as they change subjects throughout the day.  They go to the class where their respective teacher is located.  But in Japan, it’s the opposite: each grade has their own classroom as “home base,” and teachers move around the classrooms depending on which grade they teach during which period.  The teachers’ home base is in the staff room, where they get their own desk to work from and keep their materials. 

One student from each grade comes to fetch their respective teacher when it is time for that subject’s class.  Students are allowed in the staff room, but they must show respect at the entrance by announcing their name and why they have come (eg. “I’m Abe Naruka.  I’ve come for Suzuki-sensei.”), then they walk up to that teacher’s desk and request them to come to class (“Suzuki-sensei, please teach us.”).  Of course, this is all said in Japanese and the phrases vary slightly between schools and students, so my translations are very general.  Many students also tend to mumble/slur their words, so it’s not always discernable what exactly is being said.  I’ve provided the phrases in English, Romanized Japanese, and Japanese at the bottom of this entry for those who are curious.  (If I got any of the phrases wrong, please let me know and I’ll correct it.)  Once they’ve requested their next teacher’s presence, they must excuse themselves as they walk out by saying, “Excuse my intrusion,” and bow.

When the teacher arrives at the classroom, they go through another formality to begin and end class.  When beginning a class, all students stand up, and the student on duty that day calls the class to attention, then they ask for instruction as they bow.  The students and teacher(s) bow to each other, and class begins.  A similar routine is used to mark the end of class.  Once again, students stand and are called to attention, but this time, instead of “Please teach us,” it’s “Thank you very much.” They bow again, and class is dismissed.  Japan uses a bell to mark period times just like America does, but none of the students are dismissed until these formalities are finished.

Student Phrase Translations

I’m Abe Naruka.  I’ve come for Suzuki-sensei.

Abe Naruka desu.  Suzuki-sensei kara ni kimashita.

安倍成華です。鈴木先生からに来ました。

Suzuki-sensei, please come to our class next. -or- Suzuki-sensei, please teach us science.

Suzuki-sensei, onegaishimasu.  -or- Suzuki-sensei, rika o oshiete onegaishimasu.

鈴木先生、お願いします。-or- 鈴木先生、理科を教えてお願いします。

Excuse my intrusion.

Shitsureishimasu.

失礼します。

Attention.  Please teach us.

Chuumoku.  Onegaishimasu.

注目。お願いします。

Attention.  Thank you very much.

Chuumoku.  Arigatou gozaimashita.

注目。ありがとうございました。