Yesterday,

I enrolled at the Osaka YMCA for full-time Japanese Language study. I have been warned numerous times that this promises to be a tough challenge, cautioned that I will have no time to do anything else, and advised that I will have to work extremely hard just to keep up. I am getting more nervous and apprehensive by the minute, leading up to d-day (classes start on the sixth of October).
After sweating out filling in the enrollment forms, there was one left over, which needed to be filled out by a representative of our organization (MUP) vouching for my character and detailing what they thought of me and my character. The very busy Dan Ellrick is the senior representative in the area, so I made an appointment to meet him at 10:30 to get the form together. Aukje and I made an appointment for twelve noon with a staffer at YMCA to submit the application. I thought an hour and half would be piles of time but not to be. As Dan put the finishing kanji characters on the form, time was running short. I grabbed the papers and ran, up the hill. I turned the ten minute walk into about a six minute cross between a speed walk and a stumbling sort or forward leaning jog. I hopped the tube after waiting for two minutes (which lasted much longer than your average two minutes do) and exited at the next station. My watch told me I had four and half minutes left for the three minute walk to the YMCA building. I repeated the above and just made it in time to meet a slightly anxious Aukje wondering what exactly was taking me soo long.
Application submission went as planned.
I accomplished this entire exercise with a tiny but pointy pebble (that was more bothersome than a tiny pebble had any right to be) in my right shoe. It was exceedingly annoying, and wasn't there until I had no time to remove it.

The Uneventful Flight.

I stayed awake the entire night. My thinking was that I should work at getting a leg up on the time difference, trying to beat jetlag at its own game, without chemicals. It is also a good way to make sure you don't sleep in on the morning of your flight. My good friend Phil drove me to the airport, coming to get me at 5:15. I was early and was checked in by six. The plane was late leaving by a half hour, lifting off at around 9:30. Nearly five hours later I hurried off the plane in Vancouver, paused at the water closet and walked onto the next 737 bound for Osaka. (Needless to say the baggage handlers couldn't possibly work that fast.) The lack of sleep was catching up with me. I was trying to sleep only on Japan time, which was during the flight to Vancouver and the first part of the flight to Japan. The air crew had different ideas and wanted me to eat during the first part of the flight to Japan and sleep at the end. I managed a bit of sleep with the lights on but it wasn't easy. The guy beside me kept putting his table up and down and up and down; continued fiddling, a couple of elbows, more fiddling and Tweet! Two minutes for elbowing. Meanwhile, the person behind me was constantly hoofing my seat from underneath. He also felt the need to take the magazine out of the seat back pocket and put it back in, take it out and put it back in, while simultaneously wiggling the headrest, occasionally giving it a pop making me do faceplants into the seat ahead of me. I have no idea how he managed to keep all three things up. He was remarkably coordinated. After this peaceful nap, I took to watching an episode of Star Trek and That Thing You Do, as well as some light reading of a Bruce Sterling novel, Schismatrix. As I worked at staying awake I succumbed to a few cat naps and a rope-a-dope of caffeine and sugar in its various natural and synthetic forms. So much for trying to beat jetlag with out the aid of chemicals.
I didn't lose any eyes but marathon airline travel seems to be turning into a sport for me.

Home

I was taking the futons off the clothes line on our balcony this morning after making breakfast for my lovely wife. The city was quiet as it only can be early on a Sunday morning (early for a Sunday morning). The breeze generated by taifun seventeen was brisk making the temperature very comfortable for someone acclimatized to the Canadian summer weather. The quiet joys found in everyday life.
It is good to be home.
Soli Deo Gloria.

I'm fairly certain it was unused.

On the airplane I used a barf bag for a bookmark.

Safely Home

Whenever I write to people in far away locations about being safely home, I sometimes recall the book The Hiding Place written by Corrie Ten Boom. I remember it being read to me when I was in grade school. The book is a powerful story about Corrie and her experiences during World War II with the Dutch underground and her imprisonment in concentration camps. While she was in prison she received a letter with a secret message under the stamp. "The watches in the closet are safe." This message told Corrie that the Jews that were being hidden in the secret room of their house were safe.

This watch made it safely to his home in Sekime.

Good Guessing

It is a big ass bruise. Before you get taken aback by the vulgarity of that statement, before you get caught up pondering semantics, let me assure you that I am using this particular phrase in the most pious way possible. It is not that I am in the habit of using such colourful metaphors (pun intended) but in this case it seems to be by a long shot the most apt description of the mystery photo.
The photo does not do the bruise justice. I would say it was about 230 millimeters wide and perhaps 130 millimeters high. (Oops, for all my readers in Burkina Faso and the United States still using antiquated imperial measuring apparatii, that is about 9 inches by 6 inches). Apart from being big it was also bad, although in the realm of pain, it only troubled me when I sat the wrong way.
I acquired this trophy during lunch at friends of mine where I had been doing some destruction work for them. I was about to walk down the deck stairs, with a plate of sandwich and carrots. Someone was sitting on the stairs so I stepped down the corner of the stairway. The treads were wet from rain and as I was about to take the first step, I thought to myself these stairs look kind of steep. To make a story shorter, I overestimated the coefficient of friction between the heel of my construction boot and the wet stair tread and applied a little too much backward lean to my stride. I lost my sandwich (the one on the plate) and carrots while landing with my cheek right on the corner of the stair. Itakatadesu. Oooh that smarted.

Tada!

The Japanese government has seen fit to award a certificate of Visa with my name and mug shot on it. I'm not sure exactly how I managed to pull the proverbial bovine fabric over their optical sensory inputs but indeed they are allowing me to reenter Japan. As we speak the certificate is enroute to me via express mail and I should have it in my hands on or about Wednesday of this coming week. Once received I will need to take it to the nearest consolate and have my passport stamped. And having jumped through these last few hoops, I will legally be able to re-enter Japan. Of course the matter of finding a cheap airline ticket remains. (Notwithstanding fuel surcharges in light of recent price gouging at the oil barrel).

What it is?

Today's photo is a mystery photo. I will leave it to your imagination as to what it is. If you feel so inclined you can let me know what you think it might be.

Still in Limbo

As I continue to languish here in Canada, (perhaps languish is much too strong a word to be used when the sojourn is in such a beautiful, green, and treeful country, while in close proximity to many of my closest friends and relatives) but nevertheless as I continue to await the finely grinding gears of the Japanese governmental Visa machinery, it is definitely feeling like a "much-too-long-a-time" to be away from my wife of four and half months. I suppose the length of the Visa application process should not surprise me given the number of times I've experienced the clanky and clunky workings of various arms of federal government mechanisms, but I was led to believe that less than three months would not be unreasonable to pin my hopes on.
Alas, the latest news is that "it shouldn't be much longer".
I'm not sure if that is an official governmental term or if that is just the way it interprets from Japanese into English. And I'm not sure if there was a form to be filled out in order to get such detailed information, or if that is the result of a very competent and verbose public servant on the other end of the blower.
Either way I'd better go stock up on deodorant.

Doh!

From the archives...

Cough cough hack ack boku ack phlegm sputter snort me wheeze harumn. How do you work this thing? Why doesn't anything happen?!? What does this say? Why oh why did I buy a Japanese kamera? C'mon. Oops tee hee hee, there we go. Now if only I can do that again!

It's Running Rampant!

Cough Hack Micah Hack Sniffle Sneeze Wilson Hack Phlegm Cough.
I repeat it is not a toy! It is a serious piece of journalistic equipment. It should only be used by authorized personnel!

Incompetence?

Some missionaries are smart, some are funny, and some are strange. Then there is this feller. Some people you just cannot categorize. I will refrain from mentioning his name since I do not want to embarrass him. Cough Aaron hack hack cough wheeze DeLion wheeze harack hack.
He seemed like a capable fellow and all when I first met and got to know him, but then I found this 'self portrait' on my camera. I may have to revise my earlier impressions. I must confess that my camera is a small Sony and people are sometimes intrigued by it, but I am unconvinced if that was the case this time. I get the impression from this shot that Aaron (sniffle cough hack) was just fiddling around, accidentally and maybe even unknowingly snapping a shot of himself. I would say it is quite obvious from his pixel captured expression. It is one of stunned surprise, one that seems to say; How do you work this newfangled thang? What does this button do? Oops! Well I caught you playing with my sophisticated piece of equipment, mister!

Life imitating art or art imitating life?

A short time before I came to Canada, I was watching television. The program was demonstrating how a satellite could hit and blow up a meteor in space. It looked like news, (it seems that no matter what country and language, the news shows always have a 'look' to them). I thought to myself, "That's pretty cool". I was intrigued, but because I can not read or understand Japanese (other than a few useful sentences such as "I hit my head on the toilet door") I could not be sure. The detail of what I gleaned from the foreign TV screen was sketchy at best. I was at a loss as to what was going on. Was there a comet hurtling toward earth? Was this some kind of stop gap measure to keep the earth from being destroyed? Were we being attacked by an other worldly race of tiny green men (or more plausibly a race of dark, supersized yet muscular, armour bearing and batleth wielding beings with bumps on their foreheads)? Or maybe it was a rogue faction of the former Soviet Union with a spectacular 'star wars' type secret weapon of mass destruction, attacking the rest of the world looking to prove that Karl Marx wasn't all bad. I did not know what was happening and to be honest with you my imagination can be pretty active at times.
After I returned to Canada, I was talking with a good friend of mine and he was telling me about this thing NASA was doing, sending an interceptor to a meteor and blowing it up. It is the stuff of Hollywood. As we chatted, I connected the dots with what I had seen at that time and was able to put it all together. It seems there was a plausible explanation after all.

Samarai Will

A couple of weeks ago, I visited Osaka Castle in my full Samarai garb. I was hip.

Shock

Whenever one has been immersed in culture for a period of time, there is usually a culture shock of some sort that smacks you. Last year when I flew back to Canada after living in Japan for three months, it was the people, (or lack thereof). I wandered around for the first few days trying to figure out where everybody was. It was a little disconcerting, was everyone hiding? On vaction? The feeling went away.
This time, it was the silence. Living in Osaka is a constant barrage of noise, noise that never ceases, (especially with the windows open to let in the cool night air). As I went to sleep the first night in Canada, the lack of noise was very tangible, it was a palpable quiet. All I could hear was a whine in my ears.

Jetlagged

I am trying to recover from jetlag. But, I am not very good at recovering from jetlag. I have not figured out if it is my technique, my physique or my metabolism.

Aloft

As we were zoomin along... I played with the map function on the monitor.
We had a 100 km/h tailwind, and I thought hmmm, if I was on my bicycle I'd really be cookin. We were cruisin at almost 600 km/h, and I thought wew, I like going fast.
We were over 11 kms above the surface of the earth, and I thought, well pondered would be a better way of putting it. I pondered the dynamics of lift and how they applied to my situation, and I pondered how much physical mass (weight) there was in the airplane. And I pondered the momentum of the mass in comparison to the amount of lift, and realized that a lot of lift is required and also that if there was suddenly no more lift, how much like a stone we would be. I pondered God's common grace keeping us aloft, and further God's common grace that keeps the forces of chaos at bay.
I had over 12 hours to ponder such things, but I watched four movies back to back to back to back instead.

Patience is a Virtue I'm told.

My Visa is about to expire. I applied for a newer and longer visa, but I have not been awarded the visa yet. I will be leaving for Canada at 5:55pm on the tenth of July and after traveling for about twenty hours, will arrive on the same day in Canada.
The wonders of flying across the international dateline. I will have to wait in Canada for the Visa, and hopefully not too long.

Coffee House

The day before yesterday, (asatte in Japanese, which seems more convenient to me) we held a coffee house with our short termers. The idea is to invite Japanese students to an open house sorta deal, to establish contact and hopefully develop relationships. All of the girls who came were already contacts though. Two of them have previously gone through the Alpha program and the other two are contacts through Kayti. (She is the funny looking New Yorker with her eyes closed.) We had a good time fellowshipping though.

Picking up the Culture

I am trying to learn the Japanese culture as much I can...

But I have not yet figured out how to sleep while standing up on a packed subway train which has no constant motion but accelerates and slows down, stops every five minutes or so, and wake up just at my stop.

I don't expect to be able to do that any time soon either.

Lost again.

It is amazing how many nooks and crannies there are in Osaka. I teach an english class which is near a major train junction. There are about nine different lines running in and out of the station. I know that there is a closer station to where I teach, and each week on my way home I have been trying to find it. I go in the direction I think I am supposed to be going in, and follow the train line, arrive at the station I think I am supposed to be getting on my train at, which turned out to be the wrong one.
I tried three different stations, and ended up going back to Tennoji.

Tanabata

Fridays, I usually attend a community center in my area that offers a couple of hours of Japanese teaching (for foreigners only). It is quite pricy at 300 yen for six months. (That's about 3.50 Cdn). This past week, instead of class they held a Tanabata party for all the attendees. Traditionally, one writes a wish on a piece of paper and then hangs it on a bamboo tree that is set up just for the purpose. I think we could liken it to the whole Santa Claus and Christmas tree thing we do in North America, minus the true meaning of Christmas.
We expressed our appreciation to the teachers and helpers with a song written by one of the students, and then enjoyed snacks and some light language learning fun.

Short Termers

For the next couple of weeks we have a couple of short term workers here from the US. Eileen is a Korean American from New York and Alana is from Indiana. They are keeping us long termers quite busy with various different things.

Getting on my Feet.

I have found that since I have been living in Japan I have gotten good at getting to my feet from sitting on the floor.

While living in NA it is not something I did all that often, and I can remember on the few occasions I would be sitting on the floor, (I honestly cannot think of a good reason I was doing such a thing just now) when it was time to get up I would roll around for a while, then carefully stick out a leg or maybe a hand, trying for some leverage or maybe some momentum, straining as the leverage and/or momentum was incorrectly applied, add to all of that effort some hefting and heaving, and I would arrive on my feet, still teetering and tottering with a little huffing and puffing but usually able to stay upright.

Now I deftly place a hand , give a little shot of umpmfh and voila! I am not only firmly upright but already striding in my intended direction.

I am still not used to sitting on the floor the way Japanese do though. They have this ability to squat on their heels comfortably for long periods of time. I can only manage to sit cross-legged at the kotatsu table, and usually not for an entire meal. I find the need to move my legs to a straight out position, which is usually OK since everyone else is pretty good at sitting "normally".

Aukje's Adventure

My wife came home this morning after going to the tax office and a couple of banks to run a few errands. She had to go to pay some bills at the bank, cash a money order and get her name changed on two bank accounts and at the ward office. The bank wanted 2500 yen (that is a little less than thirty Canadian dollars) to process the money order. The name change at the tax office took 45 minutes. It took the bank twenty minutes to figure out that it would cost 2500 yen to process the money order. During that time she wanted to work on the name change and/or pay the bills, but that was not possible. When the bank finally figured out that it would cost 2500 yen they made Aukje go to the back of the line in order to pay her bills. She was vexed (in her words) and immediately upon her arrival in the door, I heard all about the friendly folks at the bank.

Rock-a-bye-baby

Late last night the garbage truck came to empty the bin from the pizza joint in our building. I have never noticed how often this happens, but last night the smell invaded our little abode sneaking in our open apartment windows and the assault was successful enough to make us hold our noses.
Early in the morning, I am not sure what time these things happened but it was always dark out, I was awakened more than once by the same residual smells wafting around the apartment. I can only assume the sickly sweet yet rank odour to still be coming from the pizza garbage storage facility. And yet later in the morning I was awakened by a couple in their apartment, in the building across the street. Their apartment at the same general height as ours, as they continued their weekend long row, very noisily arguing, tipping big items over, tossing stuff around their apartment.
As I awoke from my fitful slumber this morning I felt short changed on my sleep allotment, but didn't know who to complain to about it.

A cultural observation

It is interesting to so how a culture deals situations. In Japan it is the sunshine and the heat. As the march toward summer continues I have noted certain things. The sun umbrellas (aka parasols) are out, but only women use them. A sun umbrella is different from a rain umbrella. In Japan, beauty is seen in the whiteness of the skin, rather than the tanned ideal in North America. To that end parasols are employed to keep the sun off one's face. There are many other precautions to be taken as well. Make sure all your skin is covered (with either long sleeves or long gloves and long pants). It is best that everything is black so that it soaks up the sun rather than reflects those evil damaging rays toward a sensitive patch of exposed skin. The umbrella however can be white, so it can reflect those rays upward before they get anywhere near a person.
It is not manly to be carrying a parasol so no men ever do. However I have observed one or two using an umbrella to ward off the sun. I think the key is to use a rain umbrella, that way everyone can see that this is a one time occurrence and that you don't usually engage in such feminine acts of comfort.

Dilemma upon Dilemma

I am wearing long black pants, socks and dress shoes. It is 31 degrees centigrade and the relative humidity is about 80%. It is not yet summer. (And yes I am wearing a shirt, but it has short sleeves). I am running late for the train by perhaps thirty seconds and I need to stop at the machine for a new K-card.
Given my state of dress and the current temperature methinks it would be inadvisable to make a dash for the train. Therein lies my dilemma. The next train is not due for another ten minutes. If I do not catch this train I will be late, but if I exert any extra energy I will be guaranteed to work up even more of a sweat.
So I ponder. Would it be better to go with a steady sustained jog or should I sprint and get it over with quickly. (With me there is probably not all that much difference between the two, but anyway).
I decide that the steady jog will leave me a little less winded and will also be slightly more socially acceptable. (It is an everyday occurrence to see people running for all manner of public transportation in Japan). (And it does not matter if you are wearing flip-flops, high heels, or dress shoes).

Update. I made the train, which fortunately was air conditioned, ahhh so nice and cool.

Oh yes, deodorant is not available in Japan.

The Church Lady

On Sunday, Aukje and I attended our regular Sunday Morning church, which is a small Japanese church. Nobody speaks English (apart from the two of us), so it is a genuine immersion experience for me. After church we usually eat lunch together (the whole church) and some of the church goers have fun trying out their few English phrases on me as I try out my Japanese phrases on them. After the close of the service just before lunch the topic of discussion for some of the time was me.
As much as I try not to, I always seem to arrive at church with a very red face. Not because of embarrassment but from the walk to church which usually seems to take place in the sun. Sunday was no exception, and I was perspiring. Hmm, let me be frank, I was sweating. In Japanese the word to describe me is "atsugari" which means "a person who is sensitive to [can't stand] the heat" and the antonym is "samugari".
As one of the church ladies (the moniker "church lady" carries with it a lot of baggage, especially of the Saturday Night Live variety, none of which applies to this particular church lady), was trying to come up with an English equivalent (hot-blooded might be a potential English equivalent), she told me I was a hot body. Aukje laughed (bursting my bubble) and explained to our friend what describing someone with the words "hot body" referred to. After the explanation, to make matters worse (for me), she laughed too!
C'est la vie.

Lackluster blogging.

Every other Tuesday evening I teach an English class. Because of my lack of English teaching experience, it takes a significant part of the day to prepare for the class, I am apprehensive starting the day before, and it generally feels burdensome. This limits my time to blog either extensively or intelligently and all the above makes me a little grumpy.

LL

Some days I get so extremely frustrated with being unable to get a handle on the language I would like to revert to my childhood, throw a temper tantrum and maybe some other things, and then become an adult again. Stupid na keiyoshis. Stupid vocabulary. Stupid pronunciation.

And this is what I saw

Look Honey! A fire truck. It's tiny!

The View From Here

I was reflecting just a few days ago on looking out the window. My good wife thinks I have a tendency to gaze through the window.
I recalled my elementary school days. Each classroom had these big beautiful windows, picture a full wall of windows, looking out to the outside world. While sitting in class doing a tedious assignment or some other monotonous school work, the window and what was beyond always drew me. Ahhh, it is still there in my mind's eye, the glorious green of the grass and the trees, the birds chirping and warbling, the sunshine streaming through the tree branches, the soccer field practically shouting my name. It is no wonder the little box for the teachers comments on my report cards invariably declared that I was a really nice person, but tended to be a day dreamer.
These tendencies plagued me at home too, when my mother thought it high time I learned to play the piano. Our piano sat right beside the dining room picture window, looking into the one acre backyard of our country home. I could look at the black and white music and the black and white piano keys or I could turn my head and look at the same sorts of things as in school. I still cannot play the piano.
Then I thought about my career to this point and realized that I have always had a window in my office to look out. Being in the design field I could always get away with gazing out the window under the pretext that I was designing something.
Now that I am in the mission field I find myself living in a sixth floor apartment with a view over my neighborhood. There are many ordinary things that are interesting to me. "“Look honey! A truck with kin den on the door. I think it is a Japanese hydro truck!" I find myself intrigued with such things more often. Well this blog has gone on long enough, it is high time I go and see what is up in my neighbourhood.

Learning

I am currently working through two books on how to read the Bible as part of my MUP (my mission organization) Phase II training. (I need to put this task (the task of reading the Bible well) into my own context so I can understand what I am doing better). The books are: How to read the Bible to Hear God Speak: A study in Numbers 22-24 by Calvin G Seerveld and How to Read the Bible for all its Worth by Gordon D. Fee and Douglas Stuart.
Not everyone is a biblical scholar. I think it is much easier for a biblical scholar to exegete scripture and engage in hermeneutics than for us normal folk. So. My mother, who is a Christian I greatly respect but not a biblical scholar, still needs to read the Bible and hear God speak. My big brother is also a Christian. Although he cannot read or write and has very limited intellectual capabilities, he too needs a Bible that speaks to him in ways that he can understand. How does what I am reading apply to them, how do my mom and my brother engage in exegesis and hermeneutics? And of course how can I apply it? Oh and one more, how does this affect the one holy catholic church? As wise men have said, "Learning without applying is not learning". I just needed to step back and look at the bigger picture. Yikes! That last bit is cliche is it not?

The Sporting Landscape

Yesterday I went exploring on my bicycle. I toured the site of Expo 90, which is now a nice park with some of the buildings and features of the Expo still intact. It is a nice place to get away from some of the honking horns, people noise, sirens and such that invade life much of the time. (Such is the lot of anyone living in a large city). As I was cycling in the park I paused to watch some young lads in the midst of a baseball practice, one little guy could smoke an overhand pitch over the plate both faster and more accurately than I ever could. Next to it I was surprised to see a football practice going on, (I counted the number of players and they were not using Canadian rules). They were decked out like the Fighting Irish but of the 5 or 6 downs I watched the quarterback threw three interceptions. A short distance down the path I saw a rugby practice going on, and shortly their after a fine example of the beautiful game. Each one was very organized and the players all looked very competent.

A tiny bit of culture shock

This past week my stomach has been feeling a tad green, a little queasy. Fortunately there was some stomach medicine around the apt. We took a look at what we had and found just the right remedy for my symptoms. Aukje popped a little packet out of the box, and I was not surprised to see the pill(s) individually wrapped. I ripped the little packet open to pop the pill into my mouth and as I did a bit of powder spilled out. What is this? I was taken aback. Where is the pill? I am supposed to eat powder? Aukje laughed and said that most medication in Japan is in powder form. Well I got myself a cup of water, and got ready for the inevitable discomfort. I skeptically dropped the powder from the packet into my throat, which completely wicked all the moisture out of my mouth, and then drank the water. Whew. I can attest now that it seems to have worked. An interesting aside; in Canada most people "“take"” their medicine, weather it is in pill form or liquid form, but in Japan most people "“drink" their medicine, even when it is in powder form.

See ya

Today we said sayonara to a couple of Luke 10 short-term missionaries. They have been living and working in Japan for the last nine months, learning by doing and getting a taste of missionary life. It was sad to see them go even though I had only been able to get to know them for a short two months.
I then reflected on this morning's conversation with my spouse about short-termers and their affects on people (probably initiated by the thought if their leaving).
First I thought about it from my perspective as a short term participant several different times. In the past I have landed at an airport with a small team (or on my own) and been met at the airport by the local missionaries (in several different countries). We would have a bit of orientation and then we were off to whatever is we might be doing. We generally would not see them very much during our stay and then we would get together for a debriefing. I always thought it a shame that I could not get to know them a little better, that getting to know them seemed worthwhile and that I was missing out on something.
Aukje talked about it from her perspective as a long term missionary, seeing short termers come and go. It is good to get to know short term people but a long term missionary sees many short termers go. After you have invested time into a relationship, a short termer leaves (that being the nature of a short term). As it becomes old hat to see them come and go, one does not like to have to say good bye all the time, especially when one is emotionally involved. While it is good to have short termers, it is also much easier emotionally not to get too involved.
We also talked about how the Japanese people see all these foreigners come and go. Many foreigners come to teach English in Japan and the large majority does not stay. One of the first questions a Japanese person asks is often "How long are you going to stay"? In the same vein as the long term missionary, the Japanese person who strikes up a relationship with a foreigner and invests time in it, will be disappointed as the foreigner goes back to their country. I have also found in my life that moving on to a new thing is a very different feeling than feeling left behind.
Now as Micah and Melanie return home, I wish them Godspeed on their life journey.
As we try and pick up the parts and projects that they started I hope that we can catch everything.
And I wonder how it will all work out, will we be able to fill their shoes in relationships they have started. I shall have to comfort myself with the knowledge that it is not I who am in charge of this, I just work for Him.

Its true I tells ya.

I was in the Loop (the grocery store) shopping for some supper. I decided against having a corn roast however. Corn was 198 yen per cob, that's about $2.40 Canadian each. If I could only figure out how to stash a lot of corn in my suitcase the next time I come over I could make out alright. They are soo nicely packaged though.

Its true I tells ya.

A t-shirt with English on it, camouflage pants or shorts and a pair of glitzy high heels are an essential part of a fashion-conscious teenage girl's wardrobe in Osaka.

Pardieeeee!

Yaki = fried and Tako = octopus.
Osakans love Takoyaki and Osaka is renown for its Takoyaki.
The ingredients for a Takoyaki party are as follows;
Gather together a group of people.
Make sure the newlyweds bring their new takoyaki maker that they received as a gift from the group of people at the party (Do not forget the cord as this is an essential part of the apparatus).
Mix up a monstrous bowl of batter that the party goers cannot possibly in their wildest dreams finish off.
Make absolutely sure you have a bunch of octopus, chopped up into small chunks, (they look somewhat reddish burgundy, kind of the colour of a radish) (and ohhh sooo delicious with their yummy little tentacle suckers sticking out of each chunk hither and thither).
Sausage and cheese can be substituted but only for foreigners who can't really handle Japanese cuisine, (one feels inferior and barbaric if one succumbs to such nonsense).
Have an assortment of toppings including but not limited to very small but very plentiful little fishes, (I kept thinking of myself as a sperm whale who takes in a huge mouthful of sea water, then strains the water out through its teeth, leaving him with a meal of fishes) (the relative sizes being the only similar thing I suppose), fine but very green seaweed slivers, fish flakes, pickled ginger, mayonnaise and takoyaki sauce.
Warm up the fryer, grease er up, and pour in the batter.
Plop in a chunk of Tako, add some toppings and let er fry.
As the batter starts to become warm, you take a toothpick like thingy (or in a pinch a single chopstick will do) and spin each one around so it becomes a ball. (This is extremely tricky at first when the inexperienced newlywed has to try his hand at it, and he is more than likely to make a fine mess of it). (It is supposed to end up looking somewhat like a chicken ball, but a little smaller and much more round).
The Takoyaki is deemed ready to eat when the outside of the batter is cooked and able to be handled with chopsticks, but the inside is still very gooey.
Share the 20 or so takoyaki amongst all the party goers, add some takoyaki sauce and/or mayonnaise, fish flakes or seaweed and enjoy!
Caution!!! They are very very hot, especially in the middle, make sure you don't stick the whole thing in your mouth right away!!!
Repeat the above process as many times as you can, (I cannot believe how these slight Japanese people can eat just as much as me), and then cook up the rest of the batter and tako to save for later.
All the while conversation and frivolity can be the order of the intervals in between mouthfuls.
After everything is cleaned up, waddle out the door and see if you can make your way home.
One final note. If you own the takoyaki greasing brush from the dollar store, be very careful when you clean it, as it is likely to come apart in your hands, rendering it virtually useless.

Tako Yaki

We just now finished a tako yaki party. I am sick of tako yaki!

Cultural Communication Differences

The subject in the Japanese sentence is often left unsaid, and assumes that the listener or reader knows what you are talking about. It is preferred not to speak words that are apparent from the context.
From the jisho (dictionary): “In Japanese the verbal part of the sentence is the most important, and normally comes at the end. In a long sentence the listener has to wait till the end of the sentence in order to grasp the meaning. In English the grammatical subject is the most important part, and is expressed at the beginning of the sentence, and auxiliary information about the subject is imparted gradually. This makes for great clarity of meaning, whereas Japanese sentences can often produce ambiguities. But this is a product of the Japanese culture, where reticence is considered virtue and outspokenness vice.”

Canadian Culture

I blogged my frustration a day or two ago. My sister sent me an e-mail in response, advising me to "Keep my stick on the ice." Ah yes, a wonderful piece of advice from a great Canadian icon Red Green.

Ooishii desu!!

I got a kick out of this. The paper our meat is wrapped in has a cow, a pig and a chicken on the front. They seem to be ecstatic about giving us their tender juicy sides for us to enjoy. I'm not sure if this is how they are before they know they are going to be slaughtered or after, but it is good to know my meat is happy!

Frustration

It was my assignment this morning to find some flyers advertising community Japanese learning courses that might be offered at community centres and the like in my neighbourhood. Aukje gave me two locations, pointed out where they would on the map, described where the were, and sent me on my way. I jumped on my bike with a little apprehension, since I did not know where I was going and don't have enough language yet to help things much. I zipped up the street toward the first location, a community learning centre. I got to the overhead expressway before I realized I'd gone much too far in my haste. I back tracked to the number 14 block and found the building I thought I was looking for. I was a little skeptical, it did look very communitycenterish but I wasn't sure. I parked and locked my bicycle and ventured in. I wandered around a little looking for a big flyer rack filled with brochures advertising this and that. All I could come up with was a pitiful little excuse holding about twenty flyers. The place smelled somewhat hospitalish as well. I snagged a couple potentials but didn't hold out much hope. This couldn't be the right place.
I decided to get to my next destination, the library. I found the NTT building right where Aukje said it would be, and turned the corner to look for the library. Where I expected the library to be I found a taxation building (the sign was in English). I looked a little further and found a building that looked like a potential. Again I parked and locked my bicycle and ventured in. Aukje had told me that the library was on the third floor and that I could take either the elevator or the stairs. I wandered around looking for a way up but I couldn't find either stairs or an elevator. Not to have been wandering around for nothing I stopped at the washroom which made me feel a little less frustrated. I found another pitiful rack of flyers on my way out, nothing potentially language like however. I left. I hopped on my bicycle and went round the other side of the building and, Eureka! I did indeed find the library. About time I thought. Yup. There were the stairs and an elevator. I parked and locked my bicycle and headed for the elevator. I entered and hit the button for three. Curiously the doors didn't close, so I hit the close door button. Then I didn't go anywhere. I tried the other third floor buttons (beside the button panel in the usual place there were button panels on each side of the elevator as well) and when nothing happened I repeatedly jabbed the buttons for a while. As I was jabbing I noticed a little sticky note on one of the buttons with some kanji written on it. Perhaps it had something to do with the elevator trouble. "Well no matter" sez I to myself, I shall take the stairs. I arrived at the second level only to find a chain barring my way. It now dawned upon me that perhaps the library was closed. Hmmm. I headed back down, to see a lady tossing a library book into the return book thingy at the bottom of the stairs, adding more support for my hypothesis. I hopped on my bike and headed home, feeling like a complete and utter failure. Such is coping with life in a foreign city.

My new neice

Everyone...
May I introduce Hailey Elizabeth, born on 22 May to my brother Paul and his wife Cindy in Georgetown.
May God richly bless this new life.

You are entering the Twilight Zone...

Necoro.
From the manufacturer Omron, whom I have (up to this point in my life) only associated with PLC controls and it's related doodads. A cute little kitty cat. A fake cat that seems too real to be cute, disconcerting would be a more accurate term. Quicktime movies of this furry little critter. I think this would have made a good basis for a Twilight Zone episode.

Coffee Time

Today, I shall post my heaps of appreciation to Chiemi (a friend of Aukje’s who lives near Tokyo), for the coffee maker she got for us as a wedding gift. Here it is almost finished concocting that delectable brew known as kohi. Behind the camera Aukje and I are salivating as we drink in the aroma, nay the fragrance of Blendy, (the locally available and most reasonably priced java). As you can see we are thoroughly enjoying this gift.

Today's Service

The centre of God’s will is our only safety. – Betsie ten Boom


The past couple of weeks at our meeting of the Budonoki Seru Chiyaachi (Grapevine Cell Church) the sermon has been related to World War II. The pastor we have been listening to is Hirano Sensei (Pastor Hirano) of Horizon Chapel in Tokyo.
The chapel creates a DVD of every service and sends it to all their subscribers. We use these DVDs as a way of conveying a message from a Japanese pastor at our Thursday meetings. It has been very educational to be a party to hearing a Japanese pastor speak on this topic, getting a glimpse of how this topic resonates with the Japanese. His message of taking responsibility for one’s actions and then seeking forgiveness is very biblically centered, and I think relevant though now fading with the passing of the generation who was directly affected by the war .
Since I am a first generation Canadian of Dutch decent, I know well this feeling of hurt related to WWII, from the Dutch community I grew up in. I’ve heard many a tale and many a heartfelt recollection of the war from a large group of people who emigrated immediately after the war. Experiences which were related to me from my family, has given me a much closer tie to WWII than the average North American.
I think that most North Americans were largely insulated from WWII since most of the war (apart from Pearl Harbour) was fought in other parts of the world. The North American pain is tied largely to those who sent their sons, brothers and fathers to war.
In the pocket of Canadian-Dutch people where I grew up there was still some animosity against the German people, and only by the grace of God and Christ centered forgiveness can such gaping wounds be healed. I appreciate this work of Tokyo Horizon Chapel, and hope they continue working out God’s sovereign plan of redemption.
Seek the centre of God's will.

Rapid Transit

Last evening in my travels I was near Tennoji, which is a major hub for train traffic. As I was coming to this bridge, I thought to myself very cool, two levels of trains and under that a road. To my left there is also the expressway which goes over top of the whole kitandkabudle. While I was enjoying the urbaness of it all and snapping a photo, a train sped by adding (for me) to the ambiance. I briefly toyed with the idea of standing there until two trains (upper and lower)came by at the same time with maybe a car and a bike underneath. But after mentally going through some probability calculations, I realized I might be there for quite some time (even in Japan).

A Commotion

I heard some odd noises. I poked my head out of my apartment window to see what the commotion was. I saw school kids, millions of 'em. Well that might be a slight exaggeration. There were at least 49. And they kept coming, stretching from around the corner of our apartment building, along the street and around the next corner.
My memory went with nostalgia. Thinking about being a school kid and school trips of yore. Although they involved long arduous busrides to and from our destination. Yikes, I'm not quite so nostalgic any more.

A Jaunt

I took out my newly put together bicycle, and headed down 163. (163 is one of the major streets that comes past Sekime.) I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I would find something interesting. I found this rice paddy, squeezed between apartment buildings and automotive shops. The dealership a few doors down had a couple of Lambourgini's for sale. It was a quite a contrast.

Diver Down

As a person gets used to a new culture there are always many surprising and interesting moments. Something that was completely unexpected for me, Osaka has more dive shops than Tobermory does. I guess I shouldn't have been so taken aback since Japan is surrounded by ocean.

A cultural moment.

When a North American person points to themselves, they point to their chest, but when a Japanese person points to themselves they point to their nose.

I'm not used to it yet.
I get distracted thinking about the cultural differences when I should be concentrating on what the person is saying, especially with my nonexistent level of Japanese.
Communication is so much more than language.

Green Tea

This my friends, is a Green Tea Chocolate Chip Cookie. I wasn't sure what to expect. Green Tea flavoured things are quite popular here. Particularly Green Tea flavoured ice cream. (Which is quite good as well). The green tea with the chocolate makes for an interesting combination. Food combinations are quite a science in Japan and a lot of R & D seems to go into it.

Fun with learning the lingo.

Lately I have taken to telling people here in Japan (with a furrowed brow and a very serious look on my face):

Watashiwa nihonjindewa arimassen.
I am not Japanese.

It usually gets a quiet response for a moment as the person tries to figure what I really mean, and then when I smile, a good laugh.

The Unknown Continued...

Yesterday I met my little friend in the elevator again. I was arriving home, and as the elevator got to my floor, she was getting on. She politely bowed to me (which I thought to be extremely cute) but seemed a little nervous as she looked at me. I said in my very best Japanese "Konichiwa" (Good Afternoon) to which she replied with a smile, "Konichiwa".
I was chuffed.

Hey Heather!

This post is dedicated to a friend of mine who works at Jergens Canada. Biore in Japan! I snapped this picture as I was leaving the 24 hour grocery store on the other side of the tracks from my apartment. I chuckled as I checked out the Jergens website. It seems they are on a campaign to make people's skin darker no matter the season! Now I am no advertising, branding or product expert, but I think I'll offer a little free marketing advice for the fine folks at Jergens. Don't export the campaign to Japan! The societal ideal here is for woman to be as pale as possible. Any exposure to the sun is terrible, and many precautions are taken to ward off the sunshine when women are out and about. However as I said I am no expert and perhaps you can change thousands of years of cultural and historical trends and make everyone feel they need your product. You could corner the market if you are successful, and I for one would certainly be interested in watching your attempts.

After

I mailed my bike to myself. It is over ten years old and not an expensive bike or anything (note to any thieves out there, It is not worth stealing!) but it is like a good pillow. I had to deconstruct it slightly to fit it into a box that was mailable. I added some books and computer equipment and I managed to slip it in the mail at 29.5 Kg. I was cutting it close as the limit for Canada Post is 30 Kg. The box was slightly too long so I had to pay a surcharge. I'm sure you've heard of the "slow boat to China", well I sent it on the slow boat to Japan. As it turned out, I beat my bike to Japan by only several days. The six weeks quoted actually turned out to four and a half. Snags: Pumps in Japan are made for Japanese valves. Locks and lights are mandatory and you might be pulled over if you don't have them. A kickstand is a good idea, and the one I bought was too short. All situations are rectified, but I probably will need to get some fenders as it rains quite often here.

Before

This wisdom has recently been imparted to me.

The average time it takes for a Japanese person to go from thinking about Christianity and thinking about becoming a Christian to actually making some sort of commitment is about eight years.

If the person has been exposed to Christian education in some fashion (ie Catholic School) or has otherwise had some form of alternate exposure to a Christian worldview in the process of their growing up, that time can be decreased to a period of about three years.

It may be the radical nature of the Christian world view that causes problems when compared to the options that are generally presented in the process of growing up.

A walk by the shore.

Late last week Aukje and I went to see one of her previous Alpha students in Nishinomiya. Nishinomiya is a city between Osaka and Kobe. After the visit we took a stroll down to see the ocean (since we were in the neighbourhood). What we saw were mostly man made land areas built in the bay on which Kobe and Osaka were established.
In light of the recent devastating tsunami, I was impressed by the preparation of the people in Nishinomiya. This sea wall was constructed to turn quite a large wave over. In other areas there were thick steel doors/gates that are normally open to allow traffic flow but are ready to be closed just in case. These preparations are not new, but I don't think they would be robust enough to stem a tsunami the size of the one which recently took place.

Our washroom is soo small...

You have to be careful you don’t hit your head on the door when you sit down.


Watashi no atama ga toire no doaa ni butskarimashita. Itai! (Itakattadesu) (past tense of Itai.)

I hit my head on the washroom door. Ouch!

(Based on a true story) (again)

Woo. That smarts.

I wondered how I would take to saying Itai instead of ouch as I try to become bilingual. I don't know if I'll have enough wits about me when I hurt myself to translate to Itai! before Yow! comes out.

Hmmm, I may have to practice.

It's a Good Thing Aukje was Home

Watashi wa kagi o wasuremashita.

I forgot my key.

(Based on a true story)

Old Fridge New Fridge Small Fridge Green Fridge

Well I am no Dr. Seuss that is for sure. But we do indeed have a new fridge. It is three times the size of our old fridge and we no longer have vegetables and fruit and diet coke lying around on shelves and/or the floor. We successfully bought our fridge from a smallish appliance store in Den Den Town and felt we got a very good deal. Our fridge is a Sharp and the other two fridges we were looking at were made by Toshiba and Sanyo. All are major brand names in North America, but none are associated with fridges. In Japan these companies are very diverse, and many major companies make a large variety of different types of products. Our fridge has an upper refrigeration compartment with a door that can be opened from either side, a freezer drawer under that and at the bottom a vegetable drawer. Let me reiterate, Cool! A door that opens from both sides and drawers!

A Japanese Barbeque

It was my distinct adventure to be a part of a Japanese Barbeque yesterday. Yesterday was Greenery Day the first day of Golden Week, a string of four holidays almost consecutively. The church that Aukje has been attending most Sundays while she has been living in Osaka, had a church barbeque at the hanabakutsurumiryokuchi (a big park a 25 min walk from our apt.). The park has barbequing areas and the church had secured one of these. The affair lasted for about 5 hours and we were eating most of the time. Food comes in small quantities but flows continuously. I sampled a large variety of different foods many of which I am not used to. I stayed away from the grilled squid, but sampled the cow intestine, the bamboo chutes, and the dried squid. I thoroughly enjoyed the beef and the sausages. I also enjoyed a tin of Kirin and got a taste of some really enjoyable rice wine.
Communication was not easy when I was engaged on my own but we managed with my few Japanese words and their few English words and some gestures as well. For more in depth conversation my wife did some interpreting for me. I was exposed to many interesting cultural moments. It was an enjoyable time but also very tiring.

Den Den Town

We are shopping for a fridge. Shopping for a fridge in a foreign country is different from shopping for a fridge in your native country. It can be more difficult because you are attacking the problem without much knowledge. First of all we didn't know where to go. We happened across a small appliance store in our neighborhood and had a boo, checked the prices and sizes. (There are scads of different sizes of fridges here). Later we realized there were fridges at the Yodabashi so we checked prices (which were cheaper than in the neighborhood) and selection was much more varied. We found two which would be suitable, but decided not to buy just yet. As we were headed to Yodabashi we met and talked to Noelle a Japanese friend (who speaks English) and she suggested Den Den Town was the place to go. I went on a scouting mission and discovered a place of nothing but electronics and related products. Spectacular to a technophobe such as myself. I discovered a very large variety and even better prices in an area that spans city blocks. Jackpot!

A time of Grief

In my new city, we had a tragedy yesterday. A train crash. The worst train disaster in Japan since 1963. The Japanese railway system, which is very extensive and on which a vast number of people rely for transportation, is considered one of the safest in the world. I fear for the driver. Traditional Japanese culture will demand honour. A situation of this magnitude will demand his death to satisfy that honour. I hope God's grace will prevail.

I lament this chaos.

Pocari Sweat

This one is for all you William Gibson fans (like me). On first glance to North Americans it looks like something sweet, but no it does actually say sweat. I wonder if that is supposed to taste good? My wife, once, when she was in a hurry and very thirsty was running by a drink machine, (which there are a lot of in Japan). Quickly she popped in her change and thought, hmmm, something sweet might be nice. Almost needless to say but not quite since it adds to the story, she reread the can after the first sip. Kampai!

A Quote

We are but two dimensional manifestations in a two dimensional world. Oh how I long for that day of glory when we will inhabit and engage all seven dimensions.

A Brush with the Unknown

I was on my way to the grocery store. I was chuffed to see the elevator already on my floor. As I hopped in the elevator I heard a door slam and then small feet as they scurried for the elevator. A little girl about six or seven quickly jumped into the car with me. Adults often keep their head down, polite but nervous about what to say to a foreigner. The little girl greeted me with interest and a smile. Konichiwa, I greeted her, and she responded with the same. She said to me, kono ikura desuka? My first clue, the tone of voice. Aha a question! Hmm, a simple question. I searched my memory banks. What could she be asking? I made like Arnold Schwarzanegger in the Terminator, scrolling through all the data bank menus, searching searching… Wait a glimmer, I think she is asking me where I am from. Quickly, acting as if there was no unnatural pause, (even though I bought myself some time with an um) I responded Kanada, with a big happy smile. She seemed a little confused; perhaps she doesn’t know what country that is. We arrived at the lobby where her bicycle was waiting, she had just forgotten her keys. I held the door open for her so she could easily get her bike out, and after we were done, I got a big smile and an arigatoo. (Thankyou). I waved good bye and mumbled something back. I think I may have made a friend. I was certainly a very happy person today.


Update:
Upon further reflection and discussion with my sensei who actually speaks Japanese, Okuni would be the word for country, so she wasn't asking me that, hence the confusion on her face. Further, what I have written doesn't make sense. Hmmm. My first conversation didn't go well.

Feet Dry

We touched down at Kanasi airport at 3:17pm local time, and arrived at our apartment at about 5:30pm. Traffic on the train and subaway was fairly light for this time of day. That was a Godsend since with three large and two small bags it was much easier to make our journey home.

Old Stuff for Posterity

This is an old assignment I did when I was at ICS. Posted for posterity.
The assignment was to answer the question Why do You get up in the morning, point out three major influences and two standouts in Steven Garber's book The Fabric of Faithfulness.


Why Do I Get Up In the Morning?


My alarm goes off and I groan. I don't want to get up. I am not a morning person. For some strange reason God did not wire me that way. So, as I head out the door to work at 7:30 am plus or minus a half-hour, (usually plus), I am not pondering why I got up, only that my sense of duty, my Calvinist work ethic demands it. As the morning starts to mature and I have completed all the first things at work, I am able to think about such things. If it is a busy time at
work one would find me designing machines, a gift I have combining the creative juices, and the technical aptitude
God has given me. This leads me to one of the primary reasons I get up most mornings. One of my deep desires is to
use my God given talents to benefit others and to do this to the glory of God.


Garber talks about John John (p 112), who says, "Living a life of glory to God is living a life of integrity, a life that
speaks louder than words." How can I measure up to that? I endeavour to live a life of integrity, to measure up to all that God would ask of me, but I always fall down and it is only by the Grace of God that I can get back get up.


I think living a life of glory to God is using one's gifts and talents in meaningful, useful ways.


I get up in the morning to create things. Whether it is designing machines at work, creating something memorable on the soccer pitch, sketching, building something in my woodshop, carving first tracks on a snow covered mountain or

simply using my imagination, I like to make things.


Two other reasons I get up, to interact with God's good though currently sin wrinkled creation, and to teach the
Heidelberg Catechism to my small band of grade 12 students.


It seems that to use one's spiritual gifts is to glorify God and find satisfaction in doing so, and that is what makes it
worth while getting up in the morning.


2. Three major influences:


All the people Garber interviewed for his book, they could 'only connect' faith and life. All had learned a worldview
that would stand the tests of the world. All had Convictions. All had found someone to teach and live that
worldview, someone that could provide an example. All had Character. All had developed ITiendships with like¬
minded people whose regular life was rooted in that same worldview. All had Community. It is well worth noting as
Garber says, "There were no exceptions" (p 111).


I have come by my own worldview, a worldview that has indeed stood the test of time, by the Grace of God. All the
years I spent growing up in the broader community of the Christian Reformed Church, I was gaining worldview by
osmosis, and it wasn't until someone finally articulated that worldview to me that I said to myself, 'Eureka!' this is
what I always knew but didn't know. As Dan Heimbach says (Garber p 122) " I couldn't turn my back on what I
knew to be true."


Who is my teacher? Well I can't pick out a specific teacher that exemplified this worldview. Perhaps I am an
exception, or perhaps everything is about to come crashing down. Maybe I could cheat a little and say that my father
was my mentor. He lived this worldview though he never articulated it. He gave me a living example, an example I
watched... and followed.


3. Two stand outs:


Truth. For all of Garber's interviewees belief in truth stands out. My own belief in truth is basic to my being. It
stems ITom belief in God, in belief in right and wrong, in believing that there are transcendent truths and higher
moral values. If the momentous leanings of our culture determine truth, well then there really is no truth at all.


Coherence. For all of Garber's interviewees a desire for coherence stands out. This, I think can be partnered with
faith. It is important for our God given logically thinking minds to find coherence in our world and how we interact
with it. I like the fact that I can make decisions based on the coherence of my worldview. But here I have questions.
Is it necessary to be coherent? Ifwe could logically and coherently explain Christianity would we need faith? And if
we didn't need faith, what would we have?

GDCS

I am an alumni of Georgetown District Christian School, and recently I was asked to write a short blurb for the school paper, the following is what spilled out.

As I was thinking about my sojourn in GDCS, the toil, the complex assignments, the arduous homework inflicted upon me by my teachers, I recalled my very first day of school. I remember someone directing me to my new desk in Grade 1. It was well before class was going to start, and everyone else was outside having fun. I recall the sun shining and being jealous of those kids, laughing and yelling, you know the way all playgrounds sound from a short distance. Miss Charlton said I could go outside but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to my desk let alone the classroom. It seems I was not much of an explorer.
It turns out that a little perspective changes things and all that labour wasn’t really so difficult, actually I look back on my time at GDCS with warmth in my heart.
I went on to high school at Toronto District Christian High School and then studied engineering at Sheridan College for three years. My career started slowly but after working for several different companies in the engineering field, gaining experience in design. I settled into a position with my current company PROMAT Engineering Sales Inc. where I design machinery for the material handling industry. People always wonder what that means, and I explain that we are experts in movement of flowing materials such as lime, talc, or chocolate chips. I enjoy combining my God-given creativity and penchant for machines, as I seek to glorify my creator with what I do.
I am at one of those life’s crossroads however, in the midst of not only a career change, but also a matrimonial change. I am soon to be wed to the most beautiful woman in the world, (I may be biased) on April 2nd. I have also recently been appointed as a missionary to Japan and I am currently in the midst of raising support and getting ready to move to Osaka.
Japan promises to be a very challenging place to work, communication being one of the biggest challenges. I will be learning Japanese but even with the language in my back pocket, communicating biblical concepts such as sin or God’s love and grace remain a difficulty. I am looking forward to the challenge, but at the same time feel apprehensive. I think I’ll go sit at my desk for a little while.

Will Dykstra – Class of 1980

Thankyou very much

While I was in Japan my fiancee's sister's husband's brother sent over a bust of Elvis. He wanted us to take pictures of Elvis doing Japanese things. Aukje took him to see cherry blossoms at the park. I wanted to tie him to the train tracks, but Aukje didn't think we could get away with it. We had Elvis at an Alpha, and we also took him to Osaka Castle, which as you can see is about the same size as Elvis head. Elvis was quite heavy, I would say about 20lbs and had to be put in my big backpack for transport, as he didn't fit in a day pack. Aukje's sister's husband's brother has several Elvis's on the go, and Elvis has already been to many places.

A cold one to tide you over

No matter where you go it seems the beer companies have a big advertising budget.

I humbly bow and ask your forgiveness

(How very Japanese of me)

My apologies for the lack of posts in recent times. My time has been stretched to its limits lately and it doesn't look to be letting up anytime soon. Between working extra hours, working to prepare myself to go overseas and working at arranging a wedding, time is stretched very tautly, and if one seam lets go my life would develop some big rips and rends. I envision more regular updates after I am settled in Japan, (latter half of April). In the meantime I would like to warn my vast readership that I am planning an odd update here and there, but nothing deeper and more pithy than a can of beer.

An Osaka Steet Scene

It has come to my attention that there has been an oversight. The Sekime photolog has not had a photo for quite some time. In order to rectify the problem I have chosen a photograph for you to enjoy. It does not have much significance other than the fact that it actually is a photograph. It was taken on my way from the YWCA where I went to language school to Umeda where I could catch the train or the subway.

Language in Japan

In Japan your run-of-the-mill dog says "Wong wong wong".

Retro-blogging

As I've posted before, I attended the Worldview Foundations course at the ICS a couple year's ago.

One of my assignments was to write a short scenario, on what the world would look like in fifty years, if the world developed as a culturally hardened, high conflict world. It had to written from the point of view of my home church.


I thoroughly enjoyed writing it and like the story myself. I thought I'd republish it in this forum.


The Georgetown CRC - 2052 in a culturally hardened, high conflict world.

Juanita looked up at the moon obscured by a cloud of pollution. Remembering the moon of her childhood, a pristine white orb, she thought it was a shame it had been sold to Microsoft-Hyundai-ING. The company had moved their entire global operations to the moon including employees and they had brought in as much commercial and cultural support as they deemed necessary. She thought that in spite of the pollution it would be a nice place to live, far removed from the trouble here on earth. Maybe she could live on the far side of the moon with the Mennonites. It would be nice to meet the people who send the automated relief re-entry drones. She was thankful for the food and clothing that they provided.

GCRC with it's long tradition of local and overseas justice work had tried
to stem the tide of Muslim domination by sending some people to the Islamic
Republic, a large Muslim state encompassing most of the northern part of the African continent. The people had been forced into the south of Africa along with most other Christians who had been unable to exist with in the Shari'a Law harshly enforced throughout the state. The Islamic Republic had built up their military and political power. One thing the Muslims never seemed to be short of was funds.

They had however been desperately short of food. At a time when it was difficult to stop them, they had sent well-equipped armies and farmers to Western Canada and Ontario looking for fertile land and fresh water supplies. Well-guarded military farms were efficiently set up and shortly thereafter the food supply line to Northern Africa was instituted. The Canadian army had fought with their legendary valiance but could not compete with the shear numbers of Muslims willing to die for their cause. Once the area had been secured, Muslims from all around North America as well as from Africa had gravitated to the area, setting up commercial support and populating the area, living like Kings from the wealth generated off the land.

But that was 15 long years ago. Since the fall of the Muslim Empire the country was no longer the super power it once was, and had degenerated to civil uprisings and quarrelling amongst Muslim factions. At the same time the dictator of the day had taken to sending "Jihad cells" to what they determined to be strategic pressure points around the globe.

She turned her attention back to the present situation. There were rumours of another raid perhaps this time by one of the infamous Jihad cells. Since the fall of the Muslim Empire the people who had been forced underground had begun to resist with better cohesion in this area of Muslim control. She was an advance scout and had to stay all but invisible while uploading observed troop movements to the local server.

She turned her thoughts back to home. Most communities had gone into hiding in order to survive. The Georgetown CRC had literally gone underground and currently most of its congregation made their home in one of the newly opened but now disused silver mines in the area. There was still Silver here but the fighting had made mining superfluous, and the mines were very easy to defend. Working in the resistance wasn't a nine to five job. She hoped she would make it to the afternoon service tomorrow. It would be good to see people again.

It is difficult to type with one arm behind your back

I am being coerced, blackmailed as it were into writing this blog.
Through many years as a Mapleleafs fan, (since the 1977 playoffs when the Leafs beat the Islanders in 7) I have never seen a player quite like Mats Johan Sundin, his skill as a hockey player and his poise as the Leaf Captain are better than any that I've seen in a MapleLeaf uniform. So Kudos to you Mats, your Mom is calling you for some Campbell's soup and I'm calling you to get your derriere back on the ice for some good old fashioned barn burning hockey, just like the good ol' days.
There you go M.A

I am accepted

December 22, 2004

I received in the mail today my acceptance letter from MUPs.

Dear Will:

On behalf of the Board, staff, and missionaries of Mission to Unreached Peoples, I want to take this opportunity to officially welcome you to this ministry. Your application, references, interview, and psychological profiles have been carefully reviewed, and we have agreed to accept you as approved Mission to Unreached Peoples personnel.

You are now officially ready to begin preparations for your anticipated ministry to serve in Japan. Your preparation for ministry and transitioning your life in Japan will be a team joint effort between yourself and the guidance provided for you from your field leadership.

Will, we are standing with you, asking God through the power of the Holy Spirit to help you. Getting ready to leave to do the work God has prepared for you is an exciting time, full of anticipation and hope. But it can also be a difficult period, one full of hectic activity, doubts and testing.

I encourage you to begin go over the information contained in this packet. You will need to know the information it contains, and we need to be able to rely on the fact that you've read, studied, and are acting on it. We will be contacting you shortly to personalize your preparation and departure paperwork. It is imperative you know the steps necessary to take in order to reach your ultimate goal of service in the Great Commission in the wisest and best-prepared manner possible. Kathy Cranston will be your Candidate Manager, and will be your primary contact here in the office. Please especially take the Planning Steps suggestion and establish a prayer support group now and begin meeting with them weekly.

In the interval between now and the time you leave, it will be important for us to build good personal relationships with each other. Whenever you have a question or a need, please contact the office. You are joining a fellowship of like-minded brothers and sisters in Christ. We will be praying for you regularly and desire to stay in close touch with you.

You will need to begin to put together a mailing list and to think about sending out prayer letters for supporters and prayer partners now. It will be important to start to build this base of prayer and financial support and to keep your supporters informed about what's happening with your preparations.

It is important for you to know that, in accordance with IRS regulations, any funds sent on your behalf will be kept in an account in your name until you leave. Should you decide for any reason not to proceed with this ministry, the money received would then be channeled in consultation with you to other workers or projects. It normally cannot be returned.
Please also read through the Policy Manual carefully. We will contact you shortly to develop your personal budget and to finalize the Financial Agreement and Overseas Service Agreement.

I will be sending a letter, along with a copy of this letter, to your pastor telling him of your acceptance and suggesting ways in which we might work with your church and missions committee as they support you both with prayer, encouragement, and finances. We ask that you continue in discussion with your church about their involvement in your calling to this overseas ministry. This is a team effort, and we pray that your church will feel a part of this ministry in a vital way. We are available to help you with fundraising and with your relationship to your home church in any way that we can.

What an opportunity we have to be a part of the Great Commission and to work together to reach the unreached! Ahead of you is adventure, growth in faith, some setbacks and trials, but the Lord will be with you through it all. Remember, "Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against authorities, against the powers of darkness, and against spiritual forces of evil... therefore put on the full armor of God." We are praying that our Father will be helping you as you prepare spiritually, materially, and financially for this new adventure of faith.

"Praise be to God and thanks be to Him who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing (II Corinthians 2:14-15)."

As always, should you ever have questions, concerns, or just want to discuss or pray about what is happening during the preparation process, don't hesitate to give me a call or to write. May our heavenly Father bless you with peace, joy, and power during this time as you rest in Him! (Philippians 4:19)

For the Kingdom,

Jeff Kwon
Director of Mobilization

Pondering Authentic Glory to God

A few days ago I was pondering. I am posting this more for my own future benefit than for anything else, but of course anyone is welcome to peruse it.
Authentic praise is heartfelt. Too often in the NA church the praise comes more in the form of rhetoric. I think there may be too much rhetoric in our churches today. But that aside; when we praise God in North America, culture, language, and our worldview all come very much into play. Our praise is generally offered in context of these things. We generally praise God in our own language, we use words that are meaningful to us based on our experiences with life as well as with church.

How does one offer authentic praise in Japan? What is authentic praise from a Japanese standpoint?
I suppose they might offer up or elevate values they hold near and dear to their own hearts, core values and transfer them to God? For an example I think a core value in the Japanese culture is honour. Being honourable is especially important to the average Japanese person. So if God was infinitely and perfectly honourable, honour personified, that would constitute mighty high praise indeed, in the eyes and heart and soul and mind of a Japanese person. Or as a second example loyalty. Loyalty is another core value I think. So if God were worshipped as being omnipotently loyal, that too would be beautiful in the estimation of a Japanese person.

In our culture (North American, European) we have developed a large body of music and songs, poetry and stories, pop culture and high culture, over the years in praise to God.

But in Japan the cultural legacy is one built without God. Can we export our resources into a Japanese culture very different from that of western culture and expect that to be meaningful? How is authentic praise being generated in Japan? How can it be developed? How can we help in developing it?

Can there be Japanese music that is Christian? Can there be Japanese Literature that is praiseworthy? How can we develop art that is glorifying to God in Japan?

As a rookie missionary I look with not a little trepidation at the mountain that needs to be moved. I need to learn not to focus on the mountain but on the Mover. That is key to success, and to my well being.

Weaving Belief and Behavior

Sometime ago Gideon Strauss blogged about Makoto Fujimura, an artist of Japanese decent, a Christian, who is the owner of some impressive credentials.

Robert Kushner (an artist and critic) has written:

The idea of forging a new kind of art, about hope, healing, redemption, refuge, while maintaining visual sophistication and intellectual integrity is a growing movement, one which finds Fujimura's work at the vanguard.

In the past I have wondered about Japan, it's lack of Christianity historically and the impact that has on art and music and culture in general. Conversely, how do we as Christians impact Japan with music, art, and culture.
I think it is a good thing to have people like Makoto sama in the world today, as we seek to proclaim the gospel in Japan.

Homeward Bound

My Opa had 5 children between 1932 and 1943. Two of them, Babs at age 5 and Willem as a baby (after whom I am named) succumbed to diphtheria in May of 1944, the War perhaps partially contributing to the state of nutrition, vaccination (or lack thereof) and medicine available.
After peace was restored to Europe, my Opa was called in 1946 to minister at a different church this time in the town of Driesum, where he stayed until he retired in the early 70's. He continued to actively preach however and for a time had his Sundays completely booked, up to two years in advance.
He went home in October of 1985.

Oranje NBS

Because of my Opa's position as a pastor of a church, it made for a natural fit into a resistance network. The privilege and prestige that came with being a minister, the already-in-place network of ministers and others throughout the towns and village of Holland made for a good starting point for an underground resistance.
As the war ended, there was suddenly a lack of governing structure, and the resistance members maintained some semblance of control. This arm band was worn by those in the resistance to identify them as someone in charge.

My Mom Remembers:

The Germans were going through our village looking for members of the resistance.

Normally everyone received advance warning of a sweep, were able to slip out the back and seek out a place of temporary refuge until they could return to their homes. This time was no exception. The trouble was my grandfather was quite sick and was not able on this occasion to make himself scarce. He had no alternative but to leave it in God’'s hands.

As the Germans finished up their sweep, there were three houses in a row between two bridges left unsearched, an oversight.

Agents of Grace

In a similar albeit much less extreme vein of resistance to that of The White Rose and Dietrich Bonhoeffer the Dutch Churches felt they had to say something to the Nazi Government. This is a copy of the letter they sent. It is a good example of how one's faith demands action, especially in the face of tyranny. As we look back from our comfortable chairs, the events seem remote, tame and maybe even a little romantic. But if you ever have a chance to see either the movie The White Rose or Bonhoeffer: Agent of Grace, you may be able to better appreciate the gravity of the situation. A gravity that caused lives to be sacrificed on both sides of the war.

The body of this letter is as follows (translated):


Dr. Seyss-Inquart, Federal Minister
Reichs Commissioner for the Dutch Occupied Territory, The Hague

The Christian churches in the Netherlands have already deemed it necessary to complain to your Excellency during the years of occupation, particularly in the matter of the Jewish citizens of our country, but there is something so terrible happening now that we cannot possibly refrain from addressing a word to your Excellency in the name of our Lord.

We have already deplored various acts of the occupying forces which are incompatible with the spiritual foundation of our people who, since their beginning have at least tried, with their Government, to live according to God's word.

In the last few weeks, a sterilization process has begun in so-called mixed marriages. God, however, who created heaven and earth and whose commandment applies to all people, and to whom your Excellency must also be accountable one day, has said to the people: Be
fruitful and multiply (Gen. 1:28). Sterilization means a physical and spiritual mutilation, which is in direct opposition to the divine commandment that we shall not dishonour, hate, injure or kill our fellow man. Sterilization means a desecration of the divine commandment as well as human rights. It is the latest consequence of an anti-Christian and genocidal racial doctrine, an excessive presumption, a world and life philosophy which undermines a truly Christian and humane existence and, ultimately, renders it impossible.

You, Excellency, are currently the highest political authority in the Netherlands. You are entrusted, as the matter now lies, to maintain law and order in this land; entrusted not only by the leader of the German Reich, but also by God, through an inviolable dispensation as proclaimed by the Christian church in this world. The commandments of this God and Ruler of the entire world apply to you, as to all people, but to you especially, because you have accepted this high position.

Therefore, in the name of God, and based on His word,' the Christian churches in the Netherlands say to your Excellency: It is the duty of your Excellency to prevent this despicable sterilization procedure.

We have no illusions. We know full well that we can hardly expect that your Excellency will heed the voice of the church, meaning the voice of the Gospel, meaning the voice of God. But that which one cannot expect as a human being, one may hope for in the Christian faith. The living God has the power to bend even your Excellency's heart to conversion and obedience. We therefore ask God to bless your Excellency and our suffering people.

May 1943

Regulations

This is a permit allowing the council of my Opa's church to meet during weekday evenings. The council was responsible for overseeing the church operation. The permit allows for meetings on church related matters, but meetings could not go longer than 11pm and political topics were not to be discussed.

Bicycle Permit

Because of his position as a pastor the Nazi Government also allowed my Opa to keep his bicycle. Most bicycles were confiscated for Germans to use, unless they were well hidden. The permit shown above was the official paper granting him the privilege to be able to keep his bike.

Opa

Grandfather in Dutch is 'Opa', consequently I had an Opa rather than a grandpa. Since my Opa lived all his life in Holland, and I have lived most of mine in Canada, I only met him a few times when either he was visiting Canada or I was visiting Holland.
My Opa was born in Den Haag on the 2nd of December 1902. He attended the Free University of Amsterdam and after graduating was ordained as a pastor in the Gereformeerde Kerk (Reformed Church) of Achlum, a small village in the province of Friesland in 1930. He spent the years of World War II in that village.
Pictured here is his permit from the Nazi Government allowing him to continue working as a pastor in Holland. As the war progressed, every able bodied male in Holland was required to go to Germany to work in aid of the German war effort.

Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day in Canada.

As a Canadian and as a Son of Dutch parents who were children during World War II, I have instilled in me a very base honour for the Canadians who participated in liberating Holland. The few times I have visited Holland I was taken aback by the deep respect I felt from Dutch strangers when they realized I was Canadian.

I pray thanks for soldiers everywhere, but also to all those who have fought injustice, who fought and continue to fight in ways other than as soldiers. Over the next few posts I would like to share a few mementos from my maternal grandfather, a member of the resistance in Holland during WWII.

Lastly I as a proud Canadian, I leave you with but one word. Vimy

Toilet Training

Here is a toilet complete with slippers. The toilet is separate from the bathroom. I had to learn how to properly use the slippers and also learn which way to pull the flush lever (big or small).

Passion Awareness

While I was in Japan, the movie The Passion of the Christ made a smallish splash. There was talk about it, people had questions about it. There was literature available in Japanese about the movie, and the Grapevine Cell Church received a stack of little booklets that could be handed out. One day Dan and I went out and about (I said that with my Canadian accent) stuffing mailboxes with these booklets and an invitation to the next Alpha course starting in the neighborhood. We planned carefully where to hand these out, and ended up distributing these upstream (as far as traffic flow) from the Abeno Room, which was where the Alpha was going to be held. As we were walking the back streets and stuffing mailboxes we occasionally met people and personally handed one to them as well (if they wanted one). The procedure, a slight bow of the head and a spoken 'Doozo'. Doozo has a kind of broad 'please' interpretation. Because of the population density of the Abeno area, we handed out about 1000 booklets (all we had) and never really got more than about a 10 minute walk from out starting point.