Blogging is fun.
The hard part is actually doing anything with any regularity that you can turn into wry observational humourous comments that speak to people of shared experiences and the human condition.
I’m hoping that my reports of an Australian living in Australia trying to replicate the experiences gained from a short holiday in Japan will do the trick.
maybe it would add to the excitement if I wrote posts in different styles?
Wonder how that will go down…
I think I’ll start in TABLOID style, where SWEEPING, UNQUALIFIED statements are supported my punchy and DRAMATIC use of bold and CAPITALS.
Since returning from JAPAN last year (almost a year ago), I have been looking to replicate some of the experiences I think are quintessentially JAPANESE. These include: ramen, ofuro/sento, ramune, hyaku yen shops, mochi, weird bossa nova cover versions of classic songs in clothing and coffee shops, an pan, and Japanese food cooked by Japanese people. Some of these replications have resulted in EPIC failures.
I know this last entry on the list may seem a bit weird, but many Japanese restaurants in Sydney are Korean owned and run, and often replicate a westernised menu – very heavy on the donburi and teriyaki, bit of kimchee thrown in, no tsukemono etc. It just doesn’t remind me of Japan. Also, I like to keep my Japanese skills up as much as possible (in preparation for my imminent return), and you feel a little deflated when you use an “onegai shimasu” or an “arigato”, only to be met with a blank stare.
The other night I went into my local sushi place, up the end of my street. I thought I’d give them another try as I was hungry, but also lazy and didn’t want to have to go to a different suburb for dinner.
I say “give another try” because I once went in to order some lunch when we first moved in to the area, and I sat for over half an hour while they sent out everyone else’s order, telling me repeatedly “just five more minutes“. One order sat on the counter for ages, and then when I was about to walk out they offered it to me (it had been there for at least twenty minutes) only to realise they’d given mine out long ago to someone else.
After three months of me walking by giving them icy icy death stares (which they were totally oblivious to), I went back in. I tried to place my order, but the waitress was bent over hysterically laughing at something the chef had said (in Korean). Pissing herself. Then looking at me and cracking her head on the bench as she laughed some more, and the chef made some more top jokes – which I now was assuming was at my expense. Kimchee and paranoia, anyone?!?!?
The sushi was ok, but I won’t be going back.
Am I starting to subconsciously absorb a Japanese perspective on Koreans?!?!? What’s next?
