Random feedback to Nanzan University students

November 9, 1998 copy/pasted without explanation, other than I saved this and many other documents.

Student name: Norie
This has happened to me so many times. I dream that I am trying to wake up, but I can’t do it. So I try harder. Finally, I succeed in my dream, and then I really wake up, too! It’s quite amazing.

I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have tried green tea ice cream and I don’t like it. The combination doesn’t suit me. I guess this is just a typical matter of not growing up with the taste and not able to fully appreciate it.

I wonder if this is the age. When I was a university student, I saw a lot of concerts. I was lucky enough to live in Los Angeles, so all the very biggest bands came to town to play, and I had a large choice of concerts. However, in every case, I always felt the same way as you felt at your concert. It’s an interesting phenomenon.

If you are interested in understanding your dreams, I suggest you read a little bit of Carl Jung, the psychologist, and, I suppose, Sigmund Freud, too. Jung said that our subconscious was trying to communicate with us through dreams. He wrote a lot of interesting books on the subject, and I’ve peeked at one or two of them.

Norie, Nice job here. Please keep up your pace. You are moving along very nicely at this rate.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Maho
Sukiyaki – It’s so interesting that you should study the history of this strange song. I grew up with it, and later became embarrassed to know the title expresses the complete ignorance of Japan by the American people. It is still the only Japanese pop song that has ever been popular in the U.S. Seiko Matsuda is well known in the U.S. for her failures to break into the market there. It certainly is a strange musical relationship between our two countries.
I think that men, in general, never really grow up past a child’s age (myself included…YES). We are stuck as mental children. Women, on the other hand, are more rational and have the emotional strength that you say you lack. I would bet that you DO have that strength, but that you are being modest.

It sounds like drinking this drink will simply spoil your appetite, in which case, it is most likely a very effective drink. Just reading about it made me lose my appetite. HA HA!
It is interesting that most things in life need some kind of license or certificate, like driving, or getting a job with a good company. But parenting: well, no one needs anything special to have a kid, and I’ve seen too many bad parents out there. I think, though, that since you express concern here, that you’ll grow into being a very good mom, so I would say, don’t worry about it so much.

Maho, You’ve done a nice job of writing to a variety of topics. I hope to see you go more in depth with some of the topics you have written about. It would not hurt to pursue one line of thought over several days writing. I would also suggest you re-read some of your work after a few days, and then do some re-writing, again, going more in-depth. Good luck.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Yoko
Drinking? Smoking? Well, it’s not a surprise. I think people are doing things at a younger and younger age. My question for you is, what will you do when your son/daughter starts drinking/smoking at, say, age 15 or so? How will you react to that??

I admit that I do not vote in American elections. I voted only once, back in 1980, when I had just turned 19. Now, I’m just very cynical about politics. I don’t see any good coming from any of it. Japan’s corruption is no worse that many many other countries.

Thank you for being honest here. I hope that you’ll keep your habit, though…that is…the habit of writing often. It is definitely a tough habit to keep, but I think it’s very worth your time and energy, as you’ll have a wonderful record of your student life and times that you can look back at.

Perhaps this is where you feel you are now. Yeah…hesitant to be an adult, not wanting to give up on youth…

I am jealous of you. My mother has expressed great regret that she did not give ALL her children piano lessons. Our daughter will get lessons, and we hope that she won’t quit at an early age. I understand your wanting to quit, though. Just like any habit, it is hard to maintain for a long time.

Yoko, Great job here. You’ve written a lot, and you certainly covered a wide variety of topics to some depth. I hope that you’ll work over the span of a few weeks going in depth with some of these topics, perhaps even using some of the material for one of your essays? It’s up to you.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Masako
My commute to Nanzan is very flexible. These days, I’m trying to bicycle as often as possible. If I can’t bicycle, like when it rains, then I do the subway to Motoyama and bus up past Nagoya University. Did you know that in the B3 of the building with my office there is a very large parking lot? It can hold at least 50 cars, but it is always empty. WHY? I have no idea.

Isn’t it sad to see the great crafts of Japan dying out to modern times? They become more expensive to make, and so sell fewer, and so the craftspeople don’t pass down their knowledge. This is happening all over the world, I’m afraid, but there is really nothing we can do about this.

If you visit me in my office, I’ll tell you some stories of when I lived in Kenya. I would spend HOURS looking at the heavens. It was one of the most incredible experiences I can ever remember. There are very few places on Earth left where you can do this without light pollution. This is one thing I really dislike about living in Nagoya. The light pollution here is the worst of anywhere I know and I’m sad for my daughter, who cannot imagine what the beautiful night looks like.

Actually, I think the most ideal form of exchange is where you can speak Japanese, and I can understand you and respond in English and you can understand and respond in Japanese and so forth.

Masako, You’ve done a good job here. I have a sense you are getting LESS prolific as you write. I hope to see the trend go the other way, where you become MORE prolific.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Masao
Welcome to the American dream, Masao. These ‘infomercials’ as they are called, are made for those popcorn eating, coke drinking, low-self esteem folks who stay up very late at night with nothing better to do than watch the things. They sell a lot of junk in the U.S. like this these days. It’s a bit sad, really, isn’t it?

I find this hard to believe. When you respect someone, it gives you a purpose in life. You want to emulate, to some extent, that person you respect. I don’t know, maybe I am too much of a dreamer with this belief, but I believe it nonetheless.

I had a talk with my sister recently. She turned 40 not too long ago, has been married about 15 years, and has two kids and a pretty good job as a legal secretary in San Francisco. “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up,” she said to me. Go figure.
Ha ha! Such great wisdom! But you know what? This isn’t true only for kids. It’s true for adults, too. It just never stops. Well, anyway, this is another thing that keeps us going and gives us purpose in our lives.

Masao, I’m a bit surprised. I guess I expect you to be a prolific and thoughtful writer, but I feel as if you are not making the efforts to at least try. You are merely going through the motions. I wonder if you might try to pursue a single topic for two or three weeks, letting your thoughts simmer for awhile before continuing on. I have this hunch that deep down, you can do it.
Your grade for this check: B

Student name: Shoko
So, which order were you hoping to have the children, or is that not important. I wonder why you think about this at such an early age. Do you talk to your friends about these topics, too? Is everyone worried about the type of parents they will become?

Oh, I don’t know if you told me this before…that you were from Hakodate. My wife is also from there. We visited there in July/August. What a great town, I really liked it and would like a chance to live there. Well, I doubt I’ll be able to anyway. Actually, I hate winter and I understand it has already snowed there. My wife wants to know which Primary, Junior High and High Schools you went to. Please email me if you get the time.
I worked for my grandfather’s construction company. It was similar to your factory job. Hard work, long hours, kind of boring at times, but I was very happy to get money at the end. I guess it built up my character too.

I’m always surprised that Japanese university students don’t share apartment rooms, like we do in the U.S. It’s so common there and so very rare here. In fact, I don’t know anyone here who does that. Why not? Can you explain this to me?

Shoko, Thanks for taking the time to keep your journal entries. You’ve covered a lot of ground here and I look forward to future installments.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Daisuke
Well, you aren’t wasting time. If you think that, then EVERYTHING is a waste of time. I don’t think this is a healthy attitude. Why? Because I felt the same way at one point in life. Then I realized that it was ME who was wasting the time, not the things other people did, including teachers and their assignments. It took me awhile, but I understood that I had plenty of opportunities in life, and that I had control of where I was going. This was an important understanding that really turned around my life. I hope you get this understanding too, someday soon!

It sounds like the swimmer was at the wrong place at the wrong time. The old woman perhaps had been struggling out on the water for a few days when he passed by, and then held onto him for life, with dire consequences for both. Hmmmm.

Daisuke, I think I’ve mentioned that you can go into depth with some things. I hope to see more of this next time.
Your grade for this check: B

Student name: Takuya
Luck! HA HA! I think you are right. No matter how much you know, there is still so much that you don’t know, so that betting on horses is never a sure thing. I went to the track in Hakodate this summer, and I was lucky enough to win about 10,000 yen. I was happy that I didn’t lose anything more than that I won something.
Gambling. I love it, but I try to avoid doing it whenever I can. I even went to Las Vegas once, but with a good friend who got me away from the city very quickly. I started putting money in the slot machines. Ooh!

UGH! This class is the most difficult for me. I’m always behind on reading marking. There are too many students and I can’t do as good a job as I would like. In addition to all my other classes. I never worked this hard as a student. NEVER.

Better to buy a lot of happy. Happy, however, comes in different forms for different people, but I think it’s actually very tough to buy.

Takuya, if you’d like me to teach you how to bet at poker, ask. I learned from a professional when I was 14 years old. Now THAT was real gambling. Anyway, it’s a pleasure to read about your gambling (and other) experiences and I look forward to more next time.
Your grade for this check: A

Student name: Michiko
40 days? It will go by very fast. You’ll miss Japanese food first, and you’ll miss your family, but you will adjust and have a great time. 40 days is very short. It will seem like a week when it’s over. It will also be an unforgettable experience.

Well, think about what you like to do. Think about what you spend most of your time doing and pursue that as a profession.

Michiko, you have got to try to discipline yourself more to write more. There is so little here I can comment on.
Your grade for this check: C

Student name: Kyoko
I have mixed feelings about this. The fact is: most cultures are dying out as we move toward one mass culture. At the same time, no culture can be completely dead if even one of it’s people is alive. Well, anyway, it is sad that this is happening. I’ve seen a lot of it in the world. At the same time, dead cultures and languages can and have been revived, so there is hope yet.

When will we grow out of prejudices like these you report? I don’t know if it is possible. But then again, today I read in the newspaper about the South African truth commission. Here is a country that is healing the wounds of a terrible war and a terrible century of division and hatred. The article also gave me hope that we can grow out of prejudices, but that it’s not an easy road.

Men must be beasts? Of course we are. Does this surprise you? HA HA!

Don’t EVER lose your friends. For me, they are more important than family. They give me perspective on my life; they give me support through hard times; they give me encouragement and love…I have a lot of very special friends that I am so thankful for.
Sure. All the time. I don’t think there is any other job quite like teaching. I just wish it paid more. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. (Typical American Joke).

Well, it’s a nice sentiment anyway, but unfortunately, there is still a lot of inequality in the world. What will you, as a Japanese woman, do to fight your lower status in this society? Or do you believe that you don’t have lower status?

Kyoko, What can I say? You are a consistent writer, you are thoughtful and your ideas are well-developed. I look forward to more of the same.
Your grade for this check: A+

Student name: Kaori
I’m glad to see that you have learned about Billie Holiday. Her life was tragic. I really love her music and her voice. In fact, these days, I don’t listen to Rock as much as Jazz. My musical tastes have changed and the music has become more important than the words.
I am familiar with her, though I admit that I have not read her work. I have studied the French poets of the late 19th century, called the Symbolists, but Sagan came well after them.

It sounds like in either case, you have an open relationship with your mother and that is important. You are lucky that you can discuss such issues in a rational way, and also that you try to see each others’ point of view. Might I suggest that you also try to see additional points of view, for example, a boyfriend’s view of the situation. Friends of your boyfriend, friends of yours, friends of your mother. Considering many different points of view is definitely advantageous.

It’s difficult to give advice for this. LL is made to be very difficult, and it’s a very high pressure test. It helps if you can learn to eliminate some of the test answers, reading ahead in the test if you can, and not second guessing your hunches.

My last grandparent died when I was in Kenya, so I didn’t see her. The last time I saw her, her mind was going. I kind of regret not being able to say the sentiment you express here. Yes, we are lucky to have grandparents that love us and spoil us. I look forward to being a spoiling grandparent myself!

Yes, teaching is something that exhausts me, but I can’t imagine doing anything else. I think it’s a great profession, that is very difficult to do well. I still have so much to learn about how to do better. Any suggestions for me?

Kaori, You’ve done a great job here and I’m very happy with your work to date. Keep up the good work!
Your grade for this check: A+

Student name: Saeko
I had the experience of having to slaughter a chicken to eat. I had to cross its legs and wings, and take a knife to kill it, by cutting off its head. I can’t forget the experience. I felt sick and of course, couldn’t eat the chicken. I think if we all had to do this, there would be far more vegetarians on the earth. Of course, I still eat meat and chicken now. Hmmm. I agree however, with you, that experiences like these, though unpleasant, are necessary for us to appreciate life.

Prejudice. This is a very hard topic to tackle. It exists everywhere at all times. I feel it a lot in Japan, but I mostly ignore it if I can, and try to understand what causes the behavior. I’m even teaching a course here about it.

It’s interesting because the type of drama which you describe is very common in the world. Families torn apart by war, spending their lives living in different worlds and even some speaking different languages. What a tradegy. I can’t give you advice here. I wouldn’t know what I would do in the same situation.

I’ll have to disagree with your attitude. Of course you can’t do anything by yourself, so that is why you have to join together with others in order to promote change in your OWN society first. So, in Japan, what societies can you join that will actively address this problem and offer solutions?

Well, now, here is a difficult topic, too. I have read stories of sacrifice and selfishness. I’ve read very wonderful things and very terrible things. It’s all case-by-case.

So, I guess you might argue with those who call Japan a ‘safe’ country, as you’ve had an experience to prove otherwise. Anyway, it certainly is very frightening to have an experience like this. I’m sorry to read about your terrible experience.

Here is another myth about Japan: that all Japanese are the same. I’ve discovered an incredible variety of food, language (dialect), accent, manners and behavior in my travels around Japan. Cultural differences are very clear even inside Japan. YES!

Perhaps you’d like to become a hardened woman? I recently found a very interesting website. It’s made for American women who have no guilt about how strong they want to be. Even the title of the website ‘Heartless Bitches’ is a strong name. Take a look at http://www.heartless-bitches.com. I laughed at a lot of their stories, especially about men who bother them so much.

Saeko, You are a very serious writer, and you write a lot. More than most others. I’m happy about this of course, as I believe those who write a lot will more than likely be better writers. SO…
Your grade for this check: A+

Time Capsule: April 25, 2016

Oh, I found this is my ‘blog drafts’. Never published it, so here it is.

——–

Don’t know if an extended reflection posted on Facebook means anything, but it’s my #1 broadcast network where I can shove my opinions in people’s faces. At any rate, outside of posting on my blog, which sees an entry once in a purple moon, FB is the medium of choice.

OK, the niceties are out of the way. Seems to be a good time to put Prince’s death in perspective. since I’ve personally reached the acceptance stage of grief.

My generation grew up in the shadow of the 60s, a time in the US of great social upheaval, uncertainty, and horrible political assassinations from the Kennedys to King and Malcolm X. I ended up in the early 80s at UCLA, Los Angeles, which at the time was arguably the most important culturally alive place in the country, and at the dawn of the Reagan Era (that’s as political this posting will get – PROMISE!). I’m especially talking about the Punk Rock / New Wave / Ska scene, my circle of friends, and the stuff we did for fun. I feel ridiculously lucky to have been there at that time. I found and lost love. I found a solid set of friends. I found some cultural and artistic anchors in music connected in many ways to Punk.

At this moment, I actually have the longest head of hair (excepting the little bald spot on top, and the grey of course) I’ve ever had, but the second longest head of hair ended up in Jonathan Hodges’ 1970s Cadillac, the two of us driving down Santa Monica boulevard in that hideously large vomit green boat, with an 8 track of Prince’s first album blasting loudly “I wanna be your lover”. We were more than likely headed to downtown for some night drinks or eclectic food. Downtown LA was starting to develop an alternative night life scene, so naturally we were drawn to it. A lot of you remember the days at 850 Milwood (The apex of “The Toxins” era), or more especially 417 Pacific (and the days of the immortal “Sports/Leisure Den” where we all watched the Bears crush the Patriots in SuperBowl XX). That, and a host of other events in that house shaped many our lives, and again cemented some lifelong friendships. The music that drove us was led by Prince, Bowie, Roxy Music, Talking Heads, X, Dead Kennedys, the Minutemen (still in the denial stage for d boon btw)…and a ton of other bands (of course I’m listing my favs…sorry folks). In short, we came of age. We passed into this nuthouse called adulthood with great expectations, anticipation, and the thrill of independence and setting our paths. The art we took with us was seeded deep into our collective souls. What connected this art was knowing that our awkwardness was actually perfectly normal…that we weren’t really different or apart from the herd we thought we wanted to be in. I don’t know if this is too cliche or not, but these musicians were reassuring in that the points-of-view we were developing about the world…well, they saw it too. So, our musicians had affirmed what we were seeing, and could articulate it in ways unexpected and heretofore unimaginable. Damn it was exciting to experience. We could actually be OURSELVES!

So, on we trotted with life, assured that we were never going to die, and we’d take all this wisdom with us into forever. I read somewhere in the past week that the reason so many famous people are dying this year is because there are simply many more famous people in the world now, especially with how much more we are connected. So there’s that. But Bowie and Prince? Within four months of each other? While I can’t empathise with people who lose family members very close to each other (though my dad and his only brother died within three months of each other), the shock we’ve been through (or should I speak for myself) is just another reminder of fixing our values away from the material, and more toward our ridiculously humble relationship with each other, those who we know and love, and the universe itself, and this teeny tiny blue ball that 7 billion of us and counting call our home. I guess the best metaphor is that two walls protecting us from our own mortality have been breached this year, and we realize that, well, ok, we ARE mortal after all, so there’s that. It’s a thing. That thing is here and now, and is happening not just to the artists we love, but our parents, sometimes our siblings, sometimes our old school mates. We hate the fuck out of cancer, rightfully so.

But with each passing – celebrity or closer, life becomes surprisingly sweeter and more precious. We’ve hit the age where we understand it’s about doing what we love despite the circumstances, and realizing the power of the positive. Being thankful, being grateful, dancing when there’s no music, and looking at the world each day with intense awe, because, you know, it’s fucking awesome! “Because the world is round, it turns me on.” is still a good 1960s sentiment that has transcended generations. Facebook is addictive because, for our generation at least, it’s a huge daily reunion and celebration of who we are, and where we’ve decided to be on this roundly round Earth. We develop an even deeper appreciation of the art that informed us, and formed us, and we come to cherish all the moments we pass through.

It’s been a year of grief so far, music-wise, but also a year for us to recall what got us through those tough young high school and college times and made us who we are today. So, screw grief. Bowie and Prince and George Martin and Maurice White…and and and and…haven’t stopped us from being who we are. They’ll continue to assure us that we are damn near perfect who we are right now right up until it’s our turn to move on and rejoin the universe.

“And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?” 
- David Byrne (note: David’s not dead yet)
“U’re so good
Baby there ain't nobody better (Ain't nobody better)
So u should
Never, ever go by the letter (Never ever)
U're so cool (Cool)
Everything u do is success
Make the rules (Rules)
Then break them all cuz u are the best” 
- Prince (Rest in Peace / Purple / Power / Partylikeits1999)

Beyond Keypals: A Framework for Internet Mediated, Content Based Communication.

Here’s some ancient writing…like, real ancient, that I dug up.

Introduction
As the internet moves from the novelty stages of its relatively new existence and into the realm of a more fully integrated tool for use in the foreign language classroom, educators are faced with questions of its proper uses. The most apparent uses of email for "keypals", a variation on the "penpal" theme of pre-internet days, have been tried and quickly worn thin; teachers are now searching for new and better ways to more fully exploit the potential of the new medium.
This article is a preliminary description of one aspect of a project carried out in the Spring and Fall Terms, 1996 at Nagoya University that takes the concept of the "keypal" and more fully embellishes the role to that of a "cultural resource informant": one who acts in the capacity of a "supplemental teacher" working with students on a one-to-one basis to more fully expand on in-class coursework through discussion and collaboration. This article will describe the pedagogical justifications of content-based language teaching; the steps involved in contacting the informants and assembling the information they contributed on a World Wide Web (WWW)-based page; matching students to the individual correspondents; and finally, describe ways in which this project can be adapted to classrooms that have not yet gained access to internet resources.

Pedagogy
McKenzie (1996) informs us that "Unless classrooms are inquiry-based, project-based or problem-based, it may be a waste of money to connect with the Internet. Unless questions and research are central to life in the classroom, the Internet may serve little purpose worth the millions of dollars of infrastructure required to establish a ‘robust’ connection to the Net." With this in mind, the content-based nature of the course could be more fully realized. The topic, Introduction to Intercultural Communication, lent itself well to content-based language teaching, as it could be used with problem-based in-class subject matter. Further, the course could be developed along the lines of themes to be covered during the 13 – 15 week, 90-minute per class span that each term required. The idea of the correspondents to be used as cultural informants came simply from the need of finding the best way to present alternative views on the subject matter based on the experiences of different peoples from different cultural backgrounds of both the students and the teacher. The shortness of the in-class contact hours was also a prime motivator for seeking outside informants.

Contacting Correspondents
The author is a member of several "mailing lists." These are electronic versions of discussion groups wherein a person can submit correspondence to others as a means of discussion of a topic, clarification of previous correspondence or any other information gathering or disseminating task. It is a step beyond simple one-to-one email correspondence; that is, using the internet to exchange messages of a personal nature, much like regular mail, but at a greatly accelerated response time. "Mailing lists" enable a single author to exchange the same bit of information with hundreds of others simultaneously, and based upon a shared common interest in which the "Mailing List" addresses.
Because the author wished to compile a short list of informants to help further the pedagogical goals of this course, it was a natural step to write a brief letter of introduction and an appeal for help. The letters (appendix A) contained personal information of the author and a short appeal to help. The lists contacted included SIETAR, The International Society for Intercultural Education, Training and Research’s two lists, one for all members (approximately 300 worldwide), and one specifically for members in Japan (approximately 50 members); SIT-Alumnet, a 250-strong list of Alumni from the School for International Training, in Brattleboro, Vermont, USA of which the author is a graduate and, more specifically, the SIT-MATNET, a sub-list of SIT-Alumnet containing approximately 70 language educators. All in all, the author could quickly contact close to 700 people with two letters of inquiry, streamlining the search for correspondents and contacting people with a more direct interest in the project.

Giving Background Information on the course
After the informants responded to the initial inquiry, the author sent a more detailed description of the course. This was done to insure that the lines of communication and feedback could be clearly established and maintained between the author and the informants. Background information (appendix B) on the course was also supplied by the author to the correspondents to more fully integrate their experiences into the course. The background information included personal information about the author, what the author envisioned as to the purpose of the course, and an explicit statement on the author’s philosophy of teaching in line with some of the macrostrategies advanced by Kumaravadivelu (1994).
In later stages of the course, the author kept an open narrative journal of the class, which was posted to the correspondents weekly, shortly after each class session and which a sample is included below (appendix C). This again was done to maintain the lines of communication between the author and the correspondents and to help the correspondents more fully address the issues and problems that any of the students may have encountered either within the classroom context or in the context of the internet-based task sheets that were part of the requirement of the course.

Assembling addresses and descriptions
Twenty-seven people in total from various backgrounds asked to join. The author, using a specialized word processing program, was able to compile each person’s request as it came in and built up a WWW page which was integrated into the overall site containing the other worksheets and resources to be used in the on-line version of the course.
Some informants volunteered to withdraw from the project for various, technically related reasons, but the author did not find the technical problems to be substantial for the informant’s withdrawl and advised against it.
The WWW page contained, in the end, active links to the email addresses of each of the informants, along with brief personal biographies and an invitation to the student to initiate the correspondence by simply clicking on the highlighted name of the person.

Assigning homework to the students
Students were told to access the correspondent’s page after first learning how to use the locally available software for accessing the internet via email and the WWW. Once students could access, the author sent email with assignments for looking over the entire WWW site and specifically at the page containing the information about the correspondents.
Over the course of the next two to three weeks, a number of small technical matters had to be overcome before every student was properly matched with an informant. Inevitably, more than one student chose the same informant in a couple of cases, which were dealt with on a case-by-case basis and to the satisfaction of both the author and the informant. The students were unaware of these negotiations.

Applications for teachers without internet access
A project such as this does not require full internet access for the student. Schools containing computer labs can as easily use word processing in the same way. It does, however, require that the teacher, at least, has some degree of access to the internet, and knowledge of the uses of email and WWW programs. The advantages of this type of correspondence are many, including fostering a more meaningful interaction between students and others around the world, giving the students more of the initiative in their inquiry-based project work of this sort and allowing the students the opportunity to see a point of view beyond that of the teacher in order for them to become more inquiry-based and problem-solving students.
Disadvantages include more of a time lag between correspondents and the students, a much heavier burden on the teacher, who will act as the physical go-between for the students and correspondents when s/he has to upload and download all of the email that transpires, and the corresponding lack of privacy between students and informants when the teacher acts as mediator of information.
Conclusion
Language teaching is moving in the direction of a more "learning-centered" environment as Edge (1996) has noted, where the teacher acts not as a disseminator of information, but as a resource pointer and problem-poser, much along the lines of the Freireian (1971) approach to teaching literacy.
Using the internet as a tool for this type of project is just one of many practical uses that the author has attempted to describe in this article.

Appendix A

The following is an excerpt from the text of a letter sent to the lists described above.

I’m about to start teaching my course, entitled "introduction to intercultural communication" to a class of about 24 students, most of whom are Japanese (maybe I’ll get one or two non-Japanese, too). As part of the class, I ask students to correspond with someone who has had experience either working in another culture, or involved in an intercultural/interracial relationship. Hmm. Do you know anyone like this? (^-^)/~

If you are interested in participating, and corresponding for about three months with students who are MAINLY studying English for communication, please send me a private email with a very short (25 words or less) mini-biography. I will post this biography on a webpage along with a link to your email address.

I look forward to hear from some of you. I hope the response is not too over/or under/whelming.

Appendix B
Following is an excerpt from the first letter sent to the cultural informants on 26 September, 1996.

The purpose of this email is to give you some background about what is happening in my little corner of cyberspace, what I anticipate will happen, and some things I’d like you to help me with. I’ll include a short bio on myself for those who don’t know me which will include my current philosophy of teaching, a list of WWW addresses for the (always under construction) site which I have prepared for the class, and a general appeal to give me tips/advice/feedback and all the other good stuff that comes from collaborative/cooperative projects such as this. I’ve spent most of my waking hours preparing this class, as it has become my ideal class for using the internet as a supplement to content-based language teaching. Good luck to us all!

_Who am I?_

I am a Chicago-born, suburban-Chicago raised, white non-practicing Jewish 34-year old male. My Japanese wife of 6 1/2 years is Atsuko. — I graduated from UCLA (1986) with a BA in Creative Writing in Poetry, and immediately went into the Peace Corps, where I started my career in teaching to high school students in Kenya. I taught English, Geography, History, Ethics and started two school libraries at the two schools I was at. After Kenya, I came to Japan without returning officially to the US. I met Atsuko, married her a year later, taught in conversation schools, and a vocational college. In 1993, I went to SIT, did my teaching internship in a Mexican University and immediately returned to Japan in June 1994. Since 1995, I’ve been teaching part-time at three Nagoya universities including NU, Nagoya University of Arts and Kinjo Gakuin University. That means that as of October, I’ll have for all practical purposes, lived out of the US for 10 years. That constitutes almost 1/3 of my life to date. (@c-)v

_My teaching Philosophy_

In a nutshell, I refer to Paolo Friere’s _Pedagogy of the Oppressed_ and J. Krishnamurti’s _Education and the Significance of Life_. I want my students to feel that they have learned how to learn. They have learned how to control a bit more, the situations they may find themselves in, and hence be able to be more proactive in their lives, rather than passive and reactive. As a language teacher, I want them to understand how the influence of learning English has changed their worldview and made them ever more unique and valuable to themselves, their family, friends, company, etc. In Japan, where uniqueness does not mean what it does for Americans, this is an especially interesting area for me to discuss with students. I’m also moving a bit in the direction of a Kenyan writer N’gugi wa Thion’go’s _Decolonizing the Mind_ in which English plays the role of the bad guy. The book warns a bit about linguistic imperialism, and how English is used in countries like Kenya to maintain the status quo and de-empower those who can’t speak it. Overall, I agree that we are becoming more of a global village, and that it is important to understand, and appreciate, the different perspectives there are in the world, and to enable my students to communicate their perspective as well as they can, through the English language, while making them understand that their language and culture also has the RIGHT to be respected and used in communication.

_What’s happening_

I wholly embrace the internet. I think it will have a profound impact on all our lives (it already has, actually). Instead of shying away from it, poopooing it, or being afraid of it, I want to use the internet mostly as a networking tool, to seek out others who view this tool as a great resource of human interworking. NOT to use the internet would be a disservice to our students, whose internet skills will give them a competitive/cooperative advantage in the near future. My favorite motto from my SIT days was: "You are your own best resource" and for me, the internet will link me to the rest of you, who are also the best resources. How’s that for empowerment? For more on this see what Vannevar Bush had to say back in 1946

http://www.isg.sfu.ca/~duchier/misc/vbush/

_Addresses_
Please please please. This is a great learning experience for me most of all. I’d appreciate any comments, suggestions, etc that you have for any part of any of this. Meanwhile, several people requested to see what exactly is it I’m doing. Below, I’ll publish the address of the Syllabus and Map pages of the site, which then gives details on all the pages in the site. If you want to contribute to the site, or borrow from the site, or make a link to the site, PLEASE DO!

http://www.webcom.com/lbdavies/b6/syll.html <—-This is the syllabus
http://www.webcom.com/lbdavies/b6/map.html <—-This is the map of the site
http://www.webcom.com/lbdavies/b6/contact.html <—-This is where you will find descriptions of all the other people who have agreed to be contacts.

_Your job_
I will ask, and ASSIGN that students write a dialog journal to you about their experience and thoughts about the class. I will respect their and your privacy on whatever issues they raise with you. However, I would like you to triangulate that they are corresponding regularly with you. It will be up to each pair of correspondents to discuss what they want. If you feel like commenting on what students say, feel free. At the end of the course (haven’t thought about this that much yet) I may ask you to write a brief report about your correspondence with the student and to assess whether they have satisfied the correspondence requirement.

Appendix C
This is a sample narrative journal entry from the second week of the Fall, 1996 term course, written October 25th, 1996.

Hi everyone,

it’s now Friday, a full three days after class.

By now, many of you should have had initial contact with a student. Some of you might get two students, but I’d like to please ask you to write the student and say you are already corresponding with someone else. I haven’t closely checked my email correspondence with the students, but I’d estimate 10 of them have contacted 10 of you.

That said, here is a BRIEF (HAHA) recap of the last class.

21 students showed up, though I haven’t had a chance to put together my attendance sheet.

I started with a few quick comments about getting connected to the internet. Some students are having the usual technical problems, and I am not really there to help explain how to get on email, and how to use MOSAIC (yes, the computers at NU are a bit old. Black and white monitors to boot). I handed out another homework sheet guide to help them find my WWW site and deal with everything that is on there.

It was time to process BARNGA, which we played last week, so I asked the students to "make a BEAUTIFUL circle" which got a big chuckle out of them. I really like to hear the laughter in my classes. It shows that it is a receptive atmosphere and people are willing to let loose. I wish I could do the same, but get knotted up sometimes.

Next, I asked students to quickly introduce themselves, since we didn’t have the chance in the first class. Their name, major and something interesting about themselves. I have 1 Mainland Chinese graduate student, 1 4th year law student, 3 third year students and the rest are first and second year, mainly from the medical, physical science and agricultural schools. There are, unfortunately, only three women in the class, which is a bit of a disappointment, as I’d certainly prefer the balance.

I asked them to discuss shortly what happened last week with the person sitting next to them. There was very nice chatting for about 5 minutes as I let them go on by themselves. I wrote "Remember, Look, Think" on the blackboard (BB) as they were doing this, and generally tried to go over the questions I wanted to ask for the debriefing.

Next I asked them as a class to help me to remember the process we went through. I like Nagoya University Students, because they are much more responsive than the students at my other schools. It IS possible to have an open discussion, though for the first and second year students, maybe even this style is strange for them (sorry for the conjecture here). I elicited the steps and wrote them down, number by number, trying to summarize what they had said and to simplify the English for those having trouble keeping up (many are, and this is a definite challenge for me to overcome).

Step 11 was: Some of us thought the rules were different for different tables. Ace was high for one person and low for another person.
Step 12 was: The game stopped.

I said that I noticed last week that the games didn’t stop and that something happened. There was discussion about how gestures were being used, and that the majority seemed to quickly overpower the minority, even at times giving the minority the winning hand when that person thought they had a losing hand.

I then drew it out to real life situations, and three students responded with
-A Japanese family prepared the best food they could for a week for their American visitor who, in the end, said s/he didn’t like the food.
-A male student who said "I went to boys only jr. high school and high school and then when I got to Nagoya university … WOW!" definitely inferring that he was having trouble relating to or dealing with the female population and said with awe and astonishment for his strong feelings.
-A female student who said she couldn’t even figure out how to use buses on her trip to Canada, and found she couldn’t perform even the simplest functions.

I then explained how Barnga simulates these kinds of situations and that this was our main theme in the class, to get beyond Step 12 above, because real life doesn’t stop and wait for us.

Appendix D
Following is a World Wide Web version current as of November 11th, 1996 of the correspondents and their descriptions as submitted by them.


1. L.A. Adams (laadams@juno.com ) is a 40-something US female who had a career in the arts (13 years) then did a hitch in the U.S. Peace Corps (Thailand). She then went back to school and got her Master’s from SIT. Currently, She is an International Student Advisor at a College in a suburb of New York.
2. Marshall Brewer (marshall.brewer@worldlearning.org) is the Director of Enrollment Management at SIT. He holds a Master’s degree in Intercultural Administration from SIT. He has lived mostly in California, Washington, D.C., and Vermont in the U.S., Oxford, England, and visited Europe, Central America, and Japan. He is gay and married to a man for seven years. He enjoys cooking and gardening.
3. Marisa Brooks-de Dios (mbrooks@orion.valpo.edu) lived/taught English in Japan for 8 years, (3 years in Komaki) and while there met her husband, who is a Filipino. They now live in Indiana, where she is the director of an intensive English program.
4. Alfred Carrozza (104146.3256@compuserve.com) is an American who now lives in the United States. His wife is Japanese. They lived together in northern Japan (Iwate-ken) from 1991 to 1993. He has been studying Japanese language and culture for nine years. He is very interested in learning about other cultures.
5. Erik Dahlin (eriksensei@aol.com) is 30 years old. He has been raised bilingually and biculturally, as his mother is from Germany. He has also lived in Japan for three years, and is planning on returning there.
6.Karen DeVoll (knjpdx@aol.com) is a 43 year old female graduate student in intercultural relations. She is 6 months into learning Japanese, is the Executive Director of the Portland/Sapporo Sister City Relationship, and has been to Japan four times. She will go back in the Spring to immerse herself in the language and do research for her thesis. She is married and has a cat named, Koi. She would prefer having a female correspondent who is willing to discuss women’s issues, especially in Japan.
7.Vansin Dokken (vdokken@aol.com) was born in Cambodia in the late 1960s and has lived in the US since October 1979. In 1986 he received a scholarship to Norway as an exchange student. Between 1987-92 he attended the University of California at Davis majoring in Electrical Engineering. After graduating, he volunteered to help the UN with the general election in Cambodia. In 1993 he returned from Cambodia to study in a Master’s Program in Intercultural Management in Vermont. Thereafter, he has worked with a Japanese non-profit organization in Cambodia and with a non-profit organization in California (funded by the US Department of Defense).
8.Lila Dubin (lila@nagasaki-gaigo.ac.jp) has lived in the Czech Republic and is currently teaching in Nagasaki. She is American.
9.Mary Vincent Franco (vincentfran@macalester.edu) (a Caucasian female) grew up in rural Northwestern Wisconsin — studies Spanish & Latin American Studies at the U of Minnesota — studied (Puebla) and later worked (Mexico City & Monterrey) in Mexico for a total of almost 2 years — did her master’s at SIT emphasizing intercultural training and int’l ed. — at SIT she met her husband (an urban Colombian) and they lived in Colombia for their first 4-5 months of marriage after which they moved back to Minnesota — She now works for Macalester College, a private liberal arts college in St. Paul, MN, in the Int’l Studies and Programming office.
10.Janet Gerba (jgerba@aol.com) is an ESL teacher, American literature teacher, and writer. Born in Kansas, USA and has lived in California, New Jersey, and now living in Killington, Vermont. She has taught students from 5 years old to 75 and has lived and taught in Hong Kong, Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, Nitra and Presov, Slovakia. She has also traveled through Japan, staying with friends and former students as well as Tanzania, Mexico and all of Europe and the US.
11.Ronnie Goodwin (ronnie@ccse.kfupm.edu.sa) is an American who lives with his Japanese wife in Saudi Arabia and teaches English.
12.Doreen Harvey (104151.27@compuserve.com) is a cross-cultural training and development consultant, living in San Diego, California. She was born in England, where she spent the first half of her life, and now considers California her home. Her interests are many – business, Latin America, culture, photography, Asian cooking, scuba diving, sailing, travel, the stock market, health, D.H. Lawrence.
13. Gordon Homann (cipsgh@showme.missouri.edu) is a study abroad advisor at the University of Missouri-Columbia. As a student, he studied abroad in Germany for one year. After graduation from college, he lived in Iwate, Japan for two years, where he taught English on the JET program. His wife, Michiko, is from Japan. They have two dogs, named "Ebony" and "Mimi."
14. Nadine Bolliger Kato (katot01@tigger.stcloud.msus.edu) has lived in Japan for three years, one as a student, two as a teacher, and has married a Japanese man. Takashi, her husband, had never been out of Japan before he met her, and now they are living in the US together, so he might have some interesting perspectives to share, also. Nadine is now interning as in international student advisor at a university in Minnesota. Her undergraduate degree was in Japanese Studies, from Earlham College, class of ’92.
15.Suzanne Larsen (sushien@aol.com) is currently pursuing her Masters in Intercultural Relations. She has worked in the field of Intercultural Communications for 6 years with many different cultural groups.
16.Chris MacCormack (sfxk9rk@scfn.thpl.lib.fl.us) spent 2 years in the Dominican Republic as a Peace Corps Volunteer and two years in El Salvador as an English teacher. He has had many Japanese students in Tampa, Florida, where he is now. He married and divorced a Salvadorean so he’s also a little wiser about intercultural marriages than he was 20 years ago.
17.Walter A. Mosch (gohmosch@sover.net) is a 45-year-old American who lives in Vermont, USA. He is married to a Chinese Singaporean and they have a 3-year-old boy. He lived in Asia for 6 years and taught at the International School in Singapore. Many of his students were Japanese. He is presently teaching at a small college and doing racism work in his community.
18. Herlyne Ramihantaniarivo (herlyne@hawaii.edu) is from Madagascar Island in the Indian Ocean, near Southern Africa. She is currently studying health care at the University of Hawaii in Honolulu. Her nickname is "Hanta".
19. Nerida Rand (nerida@eis.net.au) has also been teaching ICC classes to Japanese students. She is Australian by birth, and has studied in Japan, Taiwan and the U.S. She worked as a writer and cross-cultural trainer in Japan for four years. Currently She is working in community theatre in Australia, and teaching Japanese and Intercultural Communication part-time.
20.Catherine Rogers (0006943725@mcimail.com) lives in Vermont and recently studied Intercultural Management at the School for International Training. She has travelled in southeast Asia and lived for almost a year in Penang, Malaysia. She worked for MACEE, a company that provides information to students in Malaysia who would like to go to the U.S. to study. She hopes someday to live and work in Japan.
21.Stephen M. Ryan (RX1S-RYAN@j.asahi-net.or.jp) is from the UK. He was an exchange student in the US. He has lived and worked in Japan since 1984, He has a Japanese wife.
22.Loran Diehl Saito (0007019810@mcimail.com) works for an international exchange organization and recently married a man from Japan. She has a B.A. in French and an in a few weeks will complete an M.A. in Intercultural Management. She has studied and worked in France and Namibia, and has traveled in Brazil, Canada and Japan.
23.Kayleen Oka Sorohan (canaga@aol.com) is a graduate student living in Seattle. She was born in Canada and is a sansei. She grew up in a small French Canadian town where her family was the only Japanese family in town. She lived in Japan for two years where she taught English in Yamaguchi-ken.
24. Molly Strattan (strattan@ohsu.edu), an American, lived in Kenya, East Africa, in 1986 – 1988. She was a high school teacher there. She is now a nurse/midwife in Portland, Oregon, USA.
25. Nestor G. Trillo (nestorgt@hawaii.edu) has lived in Japan and is a Mexican/American. He is fluent in Spanish and English. He is currently doing research in Intercultural Communication.
26. Charlie Williams (cwillia@igc.apc.org) holds a B.A. in English literature from Sonoma State University and an M.A.T. from SIT. He has also participated in workshops for teachers intending to work in a corporate environment. He has successfully helped clients improve their English for Professional Communication from Asia, North and South America, and Europe and has experience training in a wide variety of settings, including refugees in Asia, production workers in the United States, and high level diplomats and business executives in Europe and the USA.
27.Nicholas Zweig (zweig@mail.utep.edu) is currently working at the University of Texas at El Paso as a career advisor. He has lived in Germany for several years, and visited several other European countries, and Mexico. He does not know any Japanese. He has worked with inlingua on their intercultural training programs, and given a few trainings on his own.

References
Edge, Julian. (1996). from a lecture on the Japan Association for Language Teaching’s 4-Corners Tour stop in Nagoya, Japan. October.
Freire, Paolo (1971). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Continuum:New York.
Kumaravadivelu, B. (1994). "The Postmethod Condition: (E)merging Strategies for Second/Foreign Language Teaching." TESOL Quarterly, 28(1), 27-48.
McKenzie, Jamieson. (1996). Internet as Bandwagon? "From Now On – The Educational Technology Journal" 6 (1). September. http://www.pacificrim.net/~mckenzie.


Last Modified: November 27, 1996

My Master’s Thesis artifact

Dug up this old doc. You can click on the links to the right, but you might have to scroll a little up or down for it to make sense. Good luck. This is the HTML version of the Independent Professional Project


Last Update: December 17, 1996
Things that will be added when I get around to it:
  • Simple digitized graphix from the original shoot.
  • Background Music
  • The ability to add nodes to the story so that others can write parts that they want to change
    Your name is Trixie and you decide to go to the Brattleboro Latchis Theater to see “Lost Memories,” the latest film by your favorite star, Rex Darling. You have also heard that he will be there LIVE and IN PERSON!! You don’t know exactly how to get to the movie theater though, because it has been a long time since Rex was in town. You jump into your car and drive off, hoping to find the theater. You remember that the theater is in
    the Northeast part of Brattleboro town. At a stop light, you notice a street sign:

    Left, to the shopping mall.

    Straight Ahead.

    Right, to city hall.


    [ About Lost Memories] [Return to IPP ]

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    Lost Memories
    by Lawrence B. Davies
    Copyright 1995, 1996, 1997

    Return to the Title Page


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    You turn left and come to a sign:

    You go another few blocks and see another sign: What now?



    Take a left.

    Straight ahead.

    Take a right.


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    You continue straight ahead. Soon you see another sign:

    It’s a very nice sign. As you drive past, you enjoy the warm air. You come to another sign:
    ——>

    Which way do you turn?

    Turn around, to Brattleboro.

    Right, to highway 9.


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    You go to the City Hall. You reach a large public area. There are many people around. There is a Jazz band playing in the center of the park. You look around. There is a fat man in sunglasses, reading a magazine and standing on a corner. You also see a woman sitting near a sign that says “TRAVEL INFORMATION.” You want to get to the movie
    theater fast.

    What do you do?




    Go to the man in the sunglasses.

    Listen to the jazz band.

    Go to the woman under the sign.


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    You go in the direction of the bank, you are lost. You see a friendly young man on the corner, you pull your car over and walk up to him.

    What do you say?





    Hi, how are you?

    Excuse me…

    Where is the theater?


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    You turn to the shopping mall. You drive a few more blocks and then see another sign:

    What do you do?





    Turn left, to the bank.

    Go straight, to the shopping mall.

    Turn around, to city hall.


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    After awhile, you look around and notice a sign:

    Which way do you go?





    Turn left.

    Straight ahead.

    Make a right.


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    You turn right. Soon you are on a highway. The wind blows through your hair. The sun warms your skin. You turn on the radio. You’re going 120 kilometers per hour. Great! What a beautiful day! Then, you hear a loud sound and look in your mirror. It’s a police car, and a voice is saying “Pull over NOW!!” You have to go to jail for driving too fast! And you will miss Rex! Oh well.

    Try again at the beginning.

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    You go to the fat man. He looks at you. “Excuse me,” you say to him. He doesn’t answer. He looks at you. You say hello again. He says nothing. “Excuse me,” you say, shaking his shoulder. He holds his chest, falls to the ground and rolls on his back. His
    tongue hangs from his mouth. His eyes bulge out of his face. omewhere a woman screams.
    The Jazz band stops playing. People run to where you and the man are. Someone yells, “What happened, what happened?”

    This is bad…

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    You get out of your car and listen to the band. Ahh! Isn’t that Jazz wonderful? Can you feel the music? Do you remember what you were doing before you started to
    listen to the Jazz?

    Please start again at the beginning.

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    You go to the woman under the sign. “May I help you?” she asks.

    What do you do?



    Ask her for directions.

    Say “Where are you from?”


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    “Hi, how are you?” you say to the young man. “Fine.” he says, and he waves as he walks around the corner.

    You are very confused, perhaps you said the wrong thing to try to get his attention.

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    “Excuse me,” you say. The young man looks at you. He puts his hand up to his ear and cups it. “Eh?” he answers. He looks confused. You think for a moment and say:



    Excuse me.

    Hi, How are you?


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    “Where’s the movie theater?” you ask. The young man looks at you. “Lady!” he says, and laughs, “It’s not faaaar!…not at all…Just go that way for two blocks…twoooo blocks…and you’ll find the City hall…ya got that miss?…yeah, the City Hall!” He looks a bit tired. “Then…” he continues, “When you get to the City hall… yeah… just look for a sign that says highway 5. Then look around…look around…look for a fat man…a fat man who is holding a magazine about cigars… HAHAH…, he wipes his wet mouth, sniffs loudly, pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose.

    He disappears around a corner mumbling “City Hall!”

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    You drive down the road toward the shopping mall. Soon, many men on motorcycles are following you. They all have smiles on their faces. When you stop at a red light, they surround your car. One man, a very large and ugly looking fellow, comes up to your window yelling “What do you want?”

    What do you do now?



    Ask him for directions.

    Drive through the red light.


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    A large crowd of people is coming together. You can hear some people saying “Murderer!” A large policewoman comes from the middle of the crowd. “What have you done?” she asks. You decide you have two choices:



    Run for your car. Perhaps no one will see you.

    Explain what happened. The man had a heart attack.


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    You ask for directions. The woman says, “drive three blocks east and turn left at West 4th Street. Then, go two blocks north to South Street.
    Turn left on East 6th Street, because north South Street is one way going west. You’ll be on mid South Street, which is just before south North Street, which is where the movie
    theater is, between the south branch of the Western Corporation and the east branch of Northeast Industries.”

    “Have a nice day.”

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    “Where are you from?” you ask the woman. She looks at you, but says nothing. Again you ask, “Where are you from?” Again she is silent and looks confused.

    You don’t know what to do so you get back in your car and drive away.

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    “Excuse me,” you say again and ask for directions. The man looks at you, then says, “Sure. Go down this road for three blocks, and turn right. Then after two more blocks, it’s on your left.

    You thank him and…

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    You drive for three blocks. Finally, the movie theater is a left turn and you’re there. REX! You begin to
    dream of the two of you dancing under the stars. Champagne, fine food, and the ocean. You begin to turn left, but then think that maybe you should turn right. Or maybe it’s
    another block straight ahead. Now you’re confused again, but you…

    Turn right!!

    No, no! It’s to the left?


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    You roll down your window. “Excuse me…” you say, “I’m lost. Can you tell me how to get to the movie theater?” The very very large and ugly man puts his mouth to your
    ear. “SAY THAT AGAIN,” he screams.

    What do you do now?



    Ask him for directions.

    Run through the red light.


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    You drive around turning left, right and going straight, but you forgot the
    directions.

    You might miss Rex…

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    You run, but you don’t get very far. The policewoman jumps on you from behind. Later, in court, your testimony is thrown out. You are charged with murder and
    sentenced to life in prison.

    You really have to be careful around these parts.

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    You explain what has just happened. The fat man stands up. “JUST JOKING!!” he says and the crowd goes away. You don’t think it’s very funny. You get in your car.
    Where is that movie theater?

    You stop at a stop sign.

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    You turn right and go two blocks. THERE IT IS ON YOUR LEFT! THERE’S
    REX. ISN’T HE HANDSOME! WOW! WHAT FUN, WHAT EXCITEMENT, WHAT A WONDERFUL WAY TO SPEND THE DAY, REX SEES YOU AND YOU EVEN TALK TO HIM! CONGRATULATIONS!

    YOU DID IT!

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    You go through the red light. The men follow you. You go through different parts of town. The men are getting closer. Look! On your left! It’s the THEATER!! THERE’S REX!! But, you can’t stop. The motorcycles are right behind you. You continue to drive. The gang catches you and breaks your windows. You drive into a lamp post. You miss Rex and spend a long time in the hospital recovering from your bad experience. Better luck next time.

    Try again at the start.

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    Thanks for playing. Send comments to lbd@gol.com

    Return to first card

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  • Plus ça change

    I’m just cleaning up my desktop on a lazy Friday morning (my Saturday, because UAE is a Muslim country with Friday/Saturday as the weekend), and I found this, so this seems the best place for it. From an MS Word doc dated 15 OCT 2017.

    PSA – very, very long posting ahead…SPOILER ALERT…no spoilers.

    Part I: Life is a Ride

    “The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?” And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.” And we … kill those people. “Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”

    I would shorten this as indicated – an excerpt – and provide the link at the end.

    ― Bill Hicks (1961-1994), greatest comedian (until Dave Chapelle came along).

    Part II: Question Reality

    An open letter to self, regarding that graphic you posted just over a year ago…

    Remember that challenge on FB, during the election season of 2016, to post about what three fictional characters best summarize your personality…well, time to reveal to yourself why you chose these three…

    First, the soundtrack for this letter is – The Harder They Come.*

    Let’s start with the woodcutter from Rashomon in the little box in the upper left corner of the graphic. Rashomon, Akira Kurosawa’s 1950s masterpiece. Film buffs know this film, because, like Citizen Kane, it broke a ton of cinematic rules in its day and was a sensation because of it….but Rashomon is a tale where one must conclude that it’s imperative to question reality on a daily basis. Is this real? Or just a ride? The storyline, four different views of a crime committed, left you baffled as to what actually happened.

    Because that’s how reality works.

    In the light of the crimes I and hundreds others in my high school alum community have just become aware of…we can’t piece together what actually happened in every instance… 40 YEARS OF INSTANCE …and we are stuck trying to see the facts as they were. From a LOT of different points of view. Knowing that each view will be a little different. But we know bad things happened, and there was a pattern to it all that’s about to emerge. Like the woodcutter, you are about to see the forest from the trees.

    Maybe during those quiet times, when that man of in a position of power abused a boy (sorry to keep you all nameless, but there are names a plenty) to satisfy some primal desire without regard to the human beings he was using as sex toys … it reminds you a little of the arrogant Tajômaru, the thief/rapist in Rashomon proudly boasting of his heroic rape, and the noble fight the victim’s husband put up to defend her honor, and which he, the Great Tajômaru won.

    The woodcutter’s tale of the fight is very different… Tajômaru was not a man of courage or a hero of any kind after all, but a small-minded imbecile who got a lucky break in the swordfight after he raped a woman …but then [SPOILER ALERT …] you learned the woodcutter himself also lied about a certain missing dagger. Woodcutter 2.0. The dagger mentioned in the wife’s testimony and in the late husband’s testimony to the police. So even the woodcutter’s story can’t be taken as the total truth.

    You are like that woodcutter – both facets – and to be honest, everyone is like the woodcutter on Facebook to some extent. You put up your nice veneer, awesome times, good times, check this out… but there are holes in your stories and skeletons in the your closet, some which might not ever see the light of day. You are human after all, and the woodcutter bears this out. Even in times of honesty, there lurks some darkness below the surface.

    No justice, no peace. Fear, not love. Just a ride.

    This week, you are going to learn that lesson about justice again, when the stories get exchanged, everyone shrugs, and moves on, possibly with an unwitting embrace of the fear that bombards us daily. The woodcutter didn’t tell his story to a lawyer after all… and left out a little detail when he told the police Tajômaru’s story in a different light.

    Most days, you are the woodcutter, wandering deep in a forest, hoping you won’t stumble upon the Tajômarus of the world. But they are everywhere.

    “One of these days
    When you hear a voice say come
    Who you gonna run to?
    You gonna run to the rock for rescue
    There will be no rock.”

           – The Slickers, Johnny Too Bad

    Part III: The Catcher in the Rye

    Then, in the middle of the graphic you posted, front and center and larger than life, is good old Willy Wonka, the Gene Wilder movie version (not the Johnny Depp movie version nor the Roald Dahl book version). Willy…what can you say about this brilliant guy? The Augustus Gloop scene sums this up well.

    At first, Willy is pretty upset as he tries to keep Augustus from drinking from his chocolate river, he runs to try to save him, alas his attitude changes completely once the boy falls in. This is the concerned Larry, wanting to keep people from harm. Fear. Not succeeding. Woodcutter 2.0.

    The mom screams “DO SOMETHING”, and then, out you come, the Jaded Brechtian Ennui(TM) Larry, in all your glory: “Help. Police. Murder.” spoken knowing the damage is already done, and what’s the point. Just a ride. It’s like watching a 20 year old age into a 55 year old in a matter of seconds. There are seriously no more fucks to give at this age.

    It’s just a ride.

    20 kids dead in a mass shooting? Just a ride. Guy plans to kill hundreds if he can with a bunch of guns but only mows down 60 and only injures 500. Puerto Rico. Trump blah blah blah FEAR…or just a ride. Help. Congress. Murder.

    Then later, the part that scared the living shit out of me when I first saw it, Augustus gets stuck in the pipe. Willy matter-of-factly states, in the best Dr. Professor Larry voice: “Well the pressure will get him out. Terrific pressure is building up behind the blockage.”

    Then old Punk Rock Larry (RIP D. Boon – miss you DAILY!) kicks in with glee in his voice and a kick in his step, while popping popcorn in his mouth: “The suspense is terrible! I hope it’ll last!” Yes, it’s a dark satire indeed, and you’d be a woodcutter 2.0 if you said you didn’t have that in you…that part emerges as a kind of last ditch effort to maintain sanity given the horror of the situation.

    Multiple personalities trying to make sense of a world gone mad. You post politics all the time, but everything’s already in that chocolate river. What can you do but say: Help. Mr. President. Murder.

    In the end, you give the factory to Charlie. The boy with a heart more valuable than a golden ticket. “The eyes of love instead see all of us as one.”

    You are SO VERY MUCH Willy Wonka on a daily basis.

    “Dema loot, dema shoot, dema wail” – Desmond Dekker, 007 (Shanty Town)

    Part IV: Fake News

    Hobbes.

    There are two Hobbes. This is the reality Hobbes. The stuffed, motionless tiger. The Willy Wonka Jaded Brechtian Ennui(TM) Hobbes, perched on Willy’s shoulder. The woodcutter Hobbes, telling the real story while still craving a hearty can of tuna fish. Is he a figment of Calvin’s imagination, or is he a magical autonomous entity? Am you real, or is this just a ride? How many political comics have you seen drawing Calvin and Trump in the same light.. and me, that imaginary foil to Trump, rolling your eyes, losing faith in all that is human. Do your exist in Trump’s reality? You are mostly the stuffed Hobbes to over 65 million Americans, and face it, close to seven billion other people.

    Hobbes is a shapeshifter, that’s for sure, but only for Calvin. Me, only for American politics, it seems. Maybe for some people some of the time. That stuffed form resonates with you, doesn’t it? You’ve felt like stuffed Hobbes most of the time when dealing with politics…with people, and why you cling to your introversion and am perfectly content to have yourself as company. Yet on social media you go doing this type of live active Hobbes doing dances with Calvin and getting all up in his grill.

    One time, Calvin took Hobbes out on a safari, and for whatever circumstance, left him behind. He got all angry and frantic at the same time. Calvin’s panic was palpable. When he found Hobbes, boy was he mad at Hobbes for getting lost. Calvin lost the stuffed tiger, and the living tiger ran away dancing in the forest with the woodcutter 2.0.

    There are actually too many Calvin/Hobbes stories to tell, but there isn’t a moment when you don’t feel like Hobbes rolled round in earth’s diurnal course with rocks and stones and trees (apologies to WW).

    It’s tough being Hobbes to the world of Calvins out there, many of whom are real, actual friends or acquaintances of yours (you reading this know if I’m giving you that living Hobbes stare at your RIGHT NOW).

    Anyway, back to stuffed Hobbes, who explored a lot of the world with Calvin whether he wanted to or not. Remember the last strip, the fallen white snow, the world of possibilities to explore. Such delight on Hobbes face. Off they went to explore “space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”

    Thanks for the explanation, Larry.

    * Soundtrack to the 1973 film classic about the hard life Jamaican’s had back in the day, and you know the US CITIZEN Puerto Ricans and Virgin Islanders are having the same hard time right now…

    “Many rivers to cross
    And it’s only my will
    that keeps me alive.”

            – Jimmy Cliff

    “Well, they tell me of a pie up in the sky
    Waiting for me when i die
    But between the day you’re born and when you die
    They never seem to hear even no cry
    So as sure as the sun will shine
    I’m gonna get my share of what’s mine
    And then the harder they come
    The harder they fall
    One and all.
    The harder they come
    The harder they fall
    One and all!”

           – Jimmy Cliff

    Epilogue:

    Anyway, back to stuffed Hobbes, who explored a lot of the world with Calvin whether he wanted to or not. Remember the last strip, the fallen white snow, the world of possibilities to explore. Such delight on Hobbes face. Off they went to explore “space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.” Um, you just woodcutter 2.0’d didn’t you? You are really living Hobbes. Yeah, thought so. Thanks for the explanation, Larry.

    September Sung (2001, just after 9/11)

    “Oh it’s a long, long time/from May to December”

    The evening of September 10th, 2001, I lay on my back in the dark. I was on a secluded beach, barely 1/2 a mile long, on Tioman Island, Malaysia. The island is a two-hour speedboat ride due east off the southeastern tip of peninsular Malaysia. Take a few moments if you will, to locate the country on a map somewhere and see if you see the island. It’s shaped like a bowling pin.

    I can wait. Please, do me this favor and find the island.

    OK? Let’s continue then.

    Tioman is so far away from any city center that sure enough, as I had suspected, I was able to gaze up into the heavens, as I had many times and many years before when I served my country in the United States Peace Corps in Kenya. A lot of good memories flowed within and through me as I looked again at our glorious home called the Milky Way, and I could see where we on Earth are positioned within this galaxy, and I could remember again what tiny place I occupied in this universe of ours. I stared deep into that inky blue sky, savoring what might be my last chance to find such a remote place for a long time. The tide was out, and the waves provided the background music, while the salt air moved in and out of my body. I thought a lot about how good my life was, that I had a loving wife and beautiful daughter and that I could share good and bad times with them through my journey on earth. My view of the night sky was relatively unobstructed, as the waning moon would not come out until I was deeply sequestered in sleep in my air conditioned “chalet” that lie just 10 meters behind me as I gazed up. What was really exciting about that night was the anticipation of seeing a shooting star again. Our home, Earth, is showered daily with bits of ancient rock that find their way to our outer atmosphere, then, in a beautiful brief moment, they penetrate the atmosphere and tumble burning until they are vaporized. If you are good at using your peripheral vision, you can catch a star for the fraction of a second that it takes to burn up. If you are very lucky, you might even get a single second burn-up, or, for the very luckiest, a two-second show. A unique thing about this is that you are probably the only person on earth who gets this show at this particular moment, as if it’s a special gift, just for you…

    That evening, though, I wasn’t alone. I had just finished the second of a two-day vacation there, with my good friends Julie and Ali Hassan (not their real names), and their good friends, another married couple Pesha and Abudu (not their real names, either), a nice young pair in their own right. At 39, I am a good 6 years older than Ali, who is the oldest of the four. They are all UK educated Malays with respectable jobs (Ali works for the Ministry of Education and I met him here in Hakodate Japan. Julie is a teacher. Pesha works for the formula 1 circuit in Malaysia and Abudu is a uni professor turned advertising man). They are, by Malaysian standards, upper middle class, though their income compared to US or Japanese standards, is quite small. I invited them to this special show on the beach, because, as Abudu had said…what are we gonna do without TV?!?! He said this in a half joking matter, but all of them are children of the media age, more than I. Ali loves his Playstation 2, and I brought him a popular game unavailable in Malaysia, but easy to get here in Japan.

    The night sky induced a state of semi-dreaminess in the five of us as we lay there. A long silence was split by Pesha, who asked where the moon was. I said that it would be coming out later in the night. In a surprised voice, she said to me “how do you know that?” and my answer, after thinking back to my Kenya experience, was “I just know.”

    I didn’t really realize how much Kenya was in me. One thing I learned there was the pulsation of the moon. I pretty much know whether the moon is waxing or waning. I pretty much know it’s cycle of rising later as it wanes and earlier as it waxes. I love seeing the crescent of the new moon, too. It reminds me a lot of the small ornament on top of the Witu village Mosque. Seeing the crescent is one of the most magical parts of moon watching, almost as if being present at the birth of a new child. Living in that darkness in Kenya made me appreciate the short life that we all have, and makes me live each day as if it might be the last. Work hard, play hard, love hard…the human condition.

    After being on our backs in that inky, milky darkness in a half dream state for about 30 minutes of the greatest of all TV shows, the four of them decided to turn in for the night. Our trip back to Kuala Lumpur the next day would consist of a two-hour boat ride back to the mainland, followed by a six-plus hour bus ride, so they wanted to get their beauty sleep. I, however, took pleasure that I could be in solitude with the Milky Way for a few minutes longer, free of all the stresses of everyday life, and the eventuality of returning back to Japan to work. I took my time, hoping to glance a passing satellite, and follow it on its lonely journey across the face of the sky..but no luck. A few airplanes whispered across at 35,000 feet, and their blinking red and white lights heralded their passing, transporting people and families from one experience to the next through the secret night. I looked up again at the Milky Way splotched like a faint cloud behind most of the other distant specs of light dotting the sky. I looked at Pink-brown Venus, our next door neighbor, the brightest light in that night sky. It was so peaceful and beautiful. There I was again: standing tangent to the earth, waiting to leave the gravitational pull and drift into and through that vast expanse of gas and dust from which we all have come and must return. I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget my time in Kenya…or those brief 48 hours on Tioman, where I got to see a Kodomo dragon slink away into the bush, a truly giant, and disappearing, species of lizard unique to the region.

    “But the days grow short, when you reach September”

    The next day, September 11th was different. It consisted of a two-hour ride on a larger boat. I shot some video of my four friends, and they made fun of me and we all had a good laugh. We ate cookies and chips and drank our bottled water. We waved at a few ships of the Singapore Navy resting at Tioman before pursuing, in conjunction with the Malaysian Navy, the South China Sea pirates, who roamed the area southeast of Tioman. We watched as we passed by islets tinier than the 6 mile by 2 mile Tioman. I dreamed of building a secluded house with a giant NO TRESSPASSING sign on one of the tiny drops of rock outcropping and establishing the Republic of Larry, population 3, and 3 cats. It was a nice fantasy. We arrived at the jetty town and waited another two hours for the bus. I did some quick email to people, bought some little gifts and said farewell to Tioman. During the sleepless six hour bus ride back to KL, I played a game that Ali had beamed me through his Palmtop, a game called “helicopter rescue”.

    “When the autumn weather/turns the leaves to flame/ One hasn’t got time/for the waiting game”

    In the game, I was the daring helicopter pilot, rescuing good guys who were jailed up and guarded by bad guys and their rockets, missles, tanks, planes and all sorts of bad guy things. I could advance to the next round by rescuing at least 9 of my 12 compatriots. I had six hours to play the game on the bus. There were so many maneuvers to learn in those six hours. The copter rising from the ground, fast forward, slow forward, hover, slow backward, fast backward, shoot straight, drop a bomb while hovering, safe takeoff, safe landing. I would lose a guy if they shot down my helicopter, or if I landed in the improper position. There was a line in the game that I could pass which was the safe zone. The enemy planes couldn’t shoot me if I were past that line. My little stick guys would rush out of the copter and into the headquarters building if I landed safely in my safe zone. I could only help four at a time, and had to return through hostile territory to help the others to safety. I worked my way up to being able to rescue 12 guys in each of three rounds before my three helicopter lives were used up. In six hours, I managed a score of over 1000 points.

    At one point during the game, we stopped to rest for thirty minutes at a roadside rest stop. Malaysia has better than Interstate quality roads these days. They are 4 lane divided highways with large shoulders that band up and down the western side of the peninsula. The rest area was full of Chinese Restaurants and background music of Malaysian Pop Bands played REALLY LOUD. The bands were trying their best to imitate American pop bands, I suppose, and they pretty much sounded like them, only they sung in Bahasa Malaysia, the Malay language or in Chinese. I bought a mask from Sarawak, which is on the Island of Borneo across the South China Sea. There had been some ethic killings on Sarawak recently. People getting decapitated and whatnot nonsense. It’s a cheap tourist mask, to be sure, but I like the colors and patterns, and I’m collecting masks now that I bought one on my trip to Bali, the Hindu enclave in the world’s largest Muslim nation, in 1999. That was it for the bus ride. We got back to KL, said goodbye to Petra and Abudu, who disappeared back into the city of 2 million, and took the subway to a taxi and back to Julie and Ali’s. I showered off all that salt water, and dressed for my looming airplane ride: brown slacks and a long sleeve button down greenish shirt. Airplanes get cool and dry on long routes, and I was scheduled for a six and a half hour redeye commencing from 1:20AM on the 12th.

    “The days dwindle down/to a precious few”

    My bags packed and my body and mind refreshed, we went to an outdoor restaurant in the late evening. It consisted of stalls selling Indian, Iranian and Malay specialties. There were about 40 tables under a covered area. The menu signs were all in English, my favorite one said “we guarantee you fast service, no matter how long it takes!” Most of the signs, though, I couldn’t read as they were in Arabic. Most likely passages from the Koran, I assumed. I had some tandoori chicken and butter chicken with a scrumptious bit of roti bread, round, fat and very nice, to sop up all that buttery oil and curry. To top it all off, I had a mango lassi served, incredibly, in one of those two and a half liter beer steins you see if you drink in a beer hall anywhere in Germany. There was no way I could finish it. At the table next to us were two guys, one a Malay and the other, his friend, looked of Chinese extraction. It was gratifying to see, really, that Malaysia is a multi-linugal, multi-cultural society where freedom of religion is a very important part of the country, despite the rise of Muslim fundamentalism in some of the poorer northern parts of the peninsula. They were chatting in English to each other on this sultry night. Julie , Ali and I were all a bit tired from our trip to Tioman. Then, the Malay guy’s cellphone rang, most folks here have Nokias…they are everywhere and they are all manufactured here these days, along with most computers and hi tech stuff. We tried to ignore him as he talked, but he kept saying something about how first one plane hit, then another hit in the other building. Anyway, we were finished eating that delicious food, so I paid and we left…I had a cab to catch to the airport, which was still another hours’ drive away from where we were.

    We drove over to Julie’s aunt and uncle’s house. They lived in a luxurious apartment in a part of KL where all the embassies are. The richest and most sumptuous part of town. Needless to say, Julie’s uncle is a very successful businessman. I was surprised, because I had met her aunt a week earlier, though I didn’t know it at first. The aunt had given me a ride to the Petronas towers, the second tallest towers in the world (China now has the tallest tower, in Shanghai, I think), which contains a gigantic, American style, American class shopping mall, all of six floors and possibly over 150 shops, including a 12 theater cineplex where I saw Kubrick/Speilberg’s A.I. for 3 US bucks. A.I. is set in a fictional futuristic New York City. The reason I didn’t recognize the aunt at first was that her head was uncovered. She wasn’t wearing the head covering that most devout Moslem Women wear in Malaysia, probably because she wasn’t out in public and maybe hadn’t expected us. She had beautiful long black hair, with heavy accents of gray, for she was, after all, somewhere in her early 60’s. Seemed a pity to keep that beautiful head of hair covered up, but that was her belief. I wondered why Julie never wore one, but her generation is obviously more liberal in its tolerance system. As we came in to the apartment, they led us to sit down and switched on the TV. They put CNN on. That’s when I saw first one plane hit, then another hit in the other building. Within 5 minutes, it was time for me to get into the cab for the drive to the airport. I stood outside with Julie, Ali, the aunt and uncle. My body was shaking. It was about midnight in KL, exactly 12 hours later than the real, non-A.I. N.Y.C. I shook Julie’s uncle’s hand, it was warm and firm. The aunt let me shake her hand, too. I said goodbye to Ali and tried to shake Julie’s hand, but she gave me a hug instead. I almost forgot to wave goodbye as the cab pulled away, because my body was still shaking. I tried to fix their four faces in my mind as I left. They were smiling, and I was smiling, or I imagine I was smiling, I can’t remember.

    “September/November!”

    As I drove to KL International Airport, I couldn’t think of anything. We drove by the two towers, the Petronas towers. They were standing, the second tallest buildings in the world, the tallest twin towers in the world, encircled on several floors with beautiful lights, which nevertheless paled in comparison to Tioman’s magical milky way light show, but still, beautiful for their manmade attempt to recreate nature’s profound glory. The darkened highway was empty and we zoomed at 120kph, past Mosques silhouetted against the night sky, past neon signs in Chinese, Malay and English, with the occasional Tamil sign here and there, for there is also an Indian minority here. Just inside the lobby of the airport, again, were huge televisions, all tuned to CNN, and all surrounded by people watching first one plane hit, then the other hit the other building. I went to the toilet, which was situated next to a small prayer room for Muslims. My stomach was suddenly not so good. My appetite was gone. Later at the departure gate, I stood in line with the other Japanese returning to Nagoya. Next to our gate, we had to pass by a bunch of white South Africans heading back to Cape Town. Everyone boarding both flights was getting patted down in a newly meticulous search. First the arms, then the back torso and back legs, then the front torso and finally the front legs. I was asked to open all of my bags that I was carrying on the plane. I had to open a box of three clay cups I had bought for my family in the Petronas Towers mall a few days earlier. I had to unzip every pocket in my camera case, and pull out my video camera and show them that my telephoto lens was a telephoto lens. Then, as I entered the plane, I had to show my passport again, with its gold embossed cover, eagle with the thirteen olive leaves in one claw and thirteen arrows in the other claw, inky blue on the cover, like the night sky of Tioman. “Passport” above the eagle and “United States of America” in italics underneath the eagle. Then we, me and a plane full of Japanese and the sprinkling of Malays (the pilots, too, Malay as this was Malaysian Airlines) went shaking, or singing, up into the milky way obscured sky, turned to the northeast, I could see out of the left window seat near the rear of the plane those two towers again, such tall towers they were, twin towers, among the tallest in the world. Then, those two towers had passed away.

    “And these few precious days/I’ll spend with you. These precious days I’ll spend with you.”

    *Quoted lyrics from “September Song” Weill and M. Anderson