Vicarious Japanese: Halloween-mon

I made a promise to Auntie Frizz before I left that I would look after and put her beanie and rasta dread wig to use. Proudly, I've kept my word and her hat/wig combo has become an international symbol of greatness! My friend, Mike, and I decided to collaborate on our Halloween costume this year. You see, Himeji is the owner of Japan's most worthless job (as voted on by people I don't know on a site and poll I don't know) - and that is a crossing guard. While I can advocate the usage of crossing guards on some streets in Himeji, we have guards manning streets where nary a bicyclist travels within a four hour period. But, rest assured, when that bike comes down the street, Mr. Crossing Guard snaps into action - lighted baton in hand and he stops the imaginary traffic so the bicyclist can proceed undeterred. The picture is a bit outdated on this link but so is the job I guess.

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Mike and I managed to find most the necessary clothes and props to become an unofficial crossing guard at a Workman shop in the burbs. What we couldn't find were hats. I offered my blond wig to Mike - the very same one that served me well as cracked out Lindsay Lohan last year. He declined and went as a straight-laced caucasian enforcer. I opted for the rasta wig.

Before heading out to the Gaijin bars for the evening, we made a pit stop at the bank. While I waited for the others to get their cash, I saw one of my Japanese teachers walking down the arcade on her phone. I was geared up - I only had one choice...clear the path from any transportation harm that could come her way. Stepping out near her and waving her along only prompted her to move away from me and pretend I didn't exist. Mind you, all she saw was some idiot dressed in a blue jumpsuit with a rasta wig. Clearly she didn't know it was so I yelled, "Hiroko-sensei!!!!" - I really wish I had a camera ready for her reaction. The Japanese know Halloween and what it's all about but it's not to the point where they expect ridiculousness. She got it - her jaw practically hit the floor and she couldn't say anything. It turned out this would be the highlight of my evening.

The next few hours were spent drinking...a lot. At random breaks from drinking, Mike and I would hit the streets and help the helpless cross the dangerous car-less avenues. We were not thanked - but it's a thankless job that someone has to man while the actual guards don't start for another night. Some people recognized and appreciated the costume right away. Some people remained confused, even after an explanation. I was discussing Halloween costumes with friends beforehand and I've come to realize that I enjoy having something only a few people get. Otherwise, I feel it's boring. I'm out to entertain myself and people like me (see Dead Dale).

Before the night got hazy, our group meandered between two bars and a club. At some point, I was coerced into drinking something called a "mind eraser". That should tell you enough. After rotating through bars and clubs, I excused myself to throw up. Following that vomit session, another came soon after it in a park nearby. Let me say one thing about my drunken antics - I am the most considerate and articulate drunk. I formally excuse myself and declare my intentions clearly and succinctly. I leave the area people congregate and I don't make a lot of noise. I return to the group and don't make a dramatic show. The night ended at a club I'd never seen before and haven't seen since. I walked in and immediately knew I hated it, sat outside for ten minutes and walked home. Granted, I wasn't 100% sure which direction I lived - so I picked one and committed. Thankfully it was correct and I made it to bed around 330.

Five and a half hours of sleep wasn't enough time to counteract the alcohol in my system (Mike's either - I'd find out later). My Saturdays consist of eight lessons normally but this was a special day and I only had five - but two of them were in my first two hours, 10 and 11am. Even worse was that the first class was a floor lesson - no tables, young boy. We'll put it this way - I was spinning every time I stood up and felt miserable. We did some coloring and other assorted grounded activities. This day was not shaping up to be happy. My 11:00 was going better because I was able to teach while sitting in a chair and not making my stomach more and more pissed off at me with every motion.

But then....

With about ten minutes left in the lesson, I felt the saliva in the back of my mouth. Ohhhh, we know what comes next. I ran out of the room and downstairs...threw up four times, quickly gathered myself and returned to finish the lesson. That's a puke and rally. My hangover was conquered and the little dude learned English - in a really good lesson actually (well, aside from the three minute 'teacher gotta expel the demons' hiatus). All in all, it was a successful Halloween. Here are some pictures: