What do you do when you miss the train...

... and when your stuff are in it? I hope you do realise we are talking about the Trans-Siberian train, at a time of the year (end of September - but I'm pretty sure I mentioned it last time, aren't you listening?) when nights in Siberia hit the minus 10 degree line, in a country where English isn't really fluently spoken (+10 points to the one who can tell me the name of this figure of speech). 

Well, relax already. Read this tutorial and if you are dumb enough to find yourself in this shitty situation, you'll know what to do. Because, Ladies and Gentlemen, my devotion to deliver high quality information to my 12,5 readers made us put in and endure this terrible situation. Wait, who I am fooling? We all know we dived into this crap with a complete lack of straight-thinking, and be sure I wasn't thinking about you suckers. 

Anyway. We were on the train since 2,5 days from Vladivostok and were supposed to hit Irkutsk at 1:30am the following night. It was 4 or 5pm and we were bored: no vodka left, no books to read and we couldn't talk with the people anyway. We were running out of food so we had the once brilliant then regretted idea to took advantage of the next long train stop to go out and run some errands. Now this is where the universe tricked us: usually, there is a small supermarket within 5 minutes of the station. But not in Ulan-Ude: you have to walk a bit more. But do you think we knew that? Do you think English-speaking people could have told us that? Do you think the universe didn't want us robbed out and left dying in a pit?  

So we went off the train and our few train friends told us in a weird Russglish that we only had 25 minutes. We laughed and said 'of course! what do you think? we're mzungus / gringos / gaijin / foreigners but not stupid!' and then we looked at each other and were like 'ahah, it would be funny if we missed the train!' 'no, it won't happen. we're not that stupid, aha!!' (As it turned out later, we were). 

Before leaving the train I hesitated one second, then decided to take my handbag with me. Like I said last time, you don't need to be extra-parano on the train - but a lightning of lucidity struck me for a few seconds, and as a great clairvoyant I could almost picture the disaster that was building up in front of our close future. Almost. So I took my stuff with me.

So we got out. Lucas wearing flip-flops, me going German-style - Birkenstocks with socks. We were so confident in our brightness and luck that... we didn't even check what time it was - and we wouldn't know at what time we had to be back. But we're not that stupid, remember? We started walking around, taking some pictures here and there (as if we mongos had time to do sightseeing), and at some point, realised we should get food. So asked some people where the closest shop ist (read: we went up to locals and said in our fakest accent: superrmarkiet? gdié?), and some guy took us to a small place where we bought bread and some stuff that looked like cheese. Mind you, we could have bought the bread at the station, and we could have survived without cheese, but hey, only Frenchies who've lived 5 months in freaking lactosefree Japan can understand me. 
So we had been all the way to get damn food that we didn't need that much, not knowing the time and lacking the necessary skills to estimate lengths or durations.  We did start running at some point...

But the platform was empty. No train. The sky was blue, the sunlight upon Ulan-Ude was fading away and we were screwed... At least, we had bread and cheese with us.
So what do you think that we did? Start insulting each other, blaming God or praising Satan? None of those! As the wise and not that stupid adults that we are, we kept our so-called dignity and tried to explain the situation to the employee that seemed less creepy / most susceptible of reacting positively to our emotion display. A very difficult task if performed in a foreign language, if you want my advice. Actually you don't even need to talk: you can just show your ticket and look stupid. 

Luck was somehow on our side. In our loser-attitude we managed to pick the best city to miss a train: Ulan-Ude is ONLY 500 km / 7 hours by car away from Irkutsk, and there are buses leaving every 30 minutes or so. See? We could have screwed up more. Mind you, we could have hopped in a cab to the next train station, but may I remind you smartasses that nobody speaks English there? Besides, we didn't know the name of the next station. So back off. 

So the relatively nice employee (according to Russian standards, she would be categorised as über-polite) took us to the parking lot in front of the station, where some cabs and minibuses were waiting, some with signs saying 'Irkutsk', where we were heading. We were saved! I thought. Ahaha. At that time I didn't know we would be having a timing problem.. So we paid the equivalent of 25€ (and we did try to make the train lady pay for us, as if  the train company was responsible, but it didn't work) and got in the minbus.  

And when it left, 20 minutes later, we tried to ask at what time we would reach Irkutsk. Because yeah, we had to be there to gather our stuff, put everything in our bags, then leave the train - as Irkutsk was our last stop (while the train was going all the way to Moscow). We knew the train would be stopping from 1:30 to 2:10 am. And then the guy told us we would be there at 2:00 am. Oops. So basically we would only have 10 minutes to rush to the platform, and throw our stuff in bags before being kicked out of the train. That is, if no drunk driver, pothole on the road or tired of life deer decide to mess with us. This is Russia, remember?

There was nothing to do but wait. And laugh about the situation. And wet our pants. We had bread and cheese, but no water. And the night was falling so we couldn't even see the landscapes. But somehow, we knew we would make it - because we're not that stupid!

But this story ends well: the driver kindly took stupid risks and proudly demonstrated his ability to  overtake cars in curves, going up, at night - so that we would arrive in time. And we did: we even arrived before the train. To this day I still don't know how it was physically possible. We saw the train approach and saw the happy face of our provodnik, who was waving at us and calling us 'crazy! crazy!' in an almost-perfect English. He was a good man. We will never know what happened on this train while we were away; but on the platform, a lot of passengers went down to greet us. Perhaps they were all stressed out that we had died, that we got lost; perhaps they were so bored that the thought of us occupied them a bit (perhaps they all had bet on our survival and only the ones who won went down to celebrate).

Anyway, our brave provodnik had stuffed our belongings in our bags and put them aside, perhaps in the hopes of selling them later on the black market - or perhaps the poor lad did that to prevent evil passengers from spliting our stuff among them. We'll never know.

What I know now, is that he gave us a letter in Russian with his email address, that he probably wrote after we didn't show up; and now we're friends on FB. So no, not all Russian males are violent impolite assholes. Kindness and openminded-ness are found everywhere, even if you don't speak the language! 
Wow, this might be the first (and hopefully last) positive post I'll ever write. For the first time, I didn't end up complaining about how bad life and people are! (ok ok, actually Poutvedev wrote me a big check if I could say something nice about the Russkies - don't worry, in the next message I'll be trashing on them like hell)

Organising (and ruining) your Trans-Siberian train experience

Hey loves!

Now is the time for you to learn more about taking the Trans-Siberian train. Yes, yes, it's a life changing experience and I'm so lucky to have done it - what ever. Spare me your boring comments and let me handle the talking, will you? 

So, basically I took it from Vladivostok to Irkutsk, spend one day at the Baikal lake, then from Irkutsk to Moscow. Wait, I'm not starting properly. There are many other routes: the mainstream people will take the Trans-Mongolian route, from Beijing to Moscow through Ulan-Bator; the weirdos will take the Trans-Mandchourian route (same same but different: just not going through Mongolia) and the real travellers, fearless, dary (and too cheap to get visas for both China and Mongolia) will board the Trans-Siberian train in Vladivostok. And there are some others routes within the Trans-Siberian route. What's not to follow? 

Here's a map to stay focused (for the mentally challenged people in the audience): 

Courtesy of yourmother.com 

I knew I would take the train and not the plane back home - yes, excuse me if I have a soul - but was a bit reluctant to the idea of spending one week alone reading books and pretenting I'm having a good time. 

So I spammed my good friend Lucas from Berlin and he was in! I was so relieved to realise I wouldn't have to endure the terrible burden of small talk with my 2nd and 3rd personalities.

What can I say about that whole trip? Of course it was awesome. But this statement, though as true and accurate as hell, won't provide you with the information you might need, so I'll be more specific and answer your questions. 

How did you plan the whole trip? 

It was kind of easy. There are plenty of sites that explain you (better than this shitty blog) the different routes, price, and categories of carriage. Sites such as http://seat61.com/Trans-Siberian.htm or http://www.waytorussia.net/. 

Oh no, now most of you suckers will stop reading my blog and go check the other sites... Damn, I was never good at marketing! 

Anyway. I had to get a Russian visa at the Osaka Consulate, but I'll explain that in a post later, otherwise this would take forever - and I'm already late for my therapy session.  

We were both ok with the idea of being plain cheap and taking 3rd class, at least for a part of the trip. I wanted to leave Japan end of September, so the timeframe was settled. It would take something like one week from Vladi to Moscow, plus one day at the Baikal lake. FYI I'm not talking about some quagmire  or some swamp where congenital Siberians go fish, pee or mate. People, pay your respect to the biggest (in surface) AND deepest freshwater reservoir on the whole planet. Plus, its water is so clear you can see all the way to hell. No, seriously, the water is among the clearest on Earth. But mainstream tourists don't know that and just go there because it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1996. Wow, this blog is so educational it gives me a headache! 
I wanted to stay longer and enjoy the nature and stuff, but it was not meant to be - we had to arrive earlier in Moscow, hence giving us only one day to swoon and admire the aquatic wonders of Baikal Lake. 
There are other cities along the Trans-Siberian line worth staying longer than just 20 minutes on the platform, but we didn't have time. And if you want more info, I would advise you to buy a proper travel guide, you damn cheapo! What do you think I am, a travel agency or what? 

Anyway. It all went as planed! Errrr, if I forget the part where we missed the train and had to take a cab to catch it at the next station.... I'll get to that later...

How did you buy the tickets ?

How cute! You thought we booked in advance!! That's adorable. Sorry to disappoint you - but since we suck, we didn't. As members of the Board of the Disgusting Cheapos Society, we didn't go through an agency, nor did we trust the Russian railway company website. Of course we just arrived in Vladivostok after 22h of non-stop ferry from Donghae, South Korea, and went directly to the railway station to ask about tickets. Now, you can't just show up and ask questions in English. This is Russia, hello? 

(Mind you, you also can't enter the post office of Huntsville, Alabama and assume people will speak another language than their Redneck gibberish - it's too bad for Russia that English prevailed as an international language. Poor tourists can only deplore the absence of English-speaking staff in touristy areas. If only Russians were more into English class than into class conflicts!)

Luckily we had met a nice Russian guy on the ferry, and not only did he not kill or steal from us, but he also accompanied us to the railway and translated for us - which was kind of epic, as we still didn't manage to understand anything. The train I had seen during my research was either cancelled or fully booked -  so we settled for a 3rd class compartment in a train leaving at 1am the same evening. It was also a bit more expensive than planed, and we weren't sure of the exact time of arrival in Irkutsk. Buying a ticket at the counter feels like playing Russian roulette. Who knows, you might end up in the gulag... Ahaha! But relax, you're on holidays! 

So, basically, if you are travelling with your mother-in-law or if you are particularly subject to any kind of nevrosis, never consider travelling with me and get your tickets beforehand - especially if you don't speak Russian. You can use this page which explains you step step how to buy a ticket online. http://seat61.com/Russia-trains.htm#Using the Russian Railways website. Or go through an agency, if you are stinking rich. 

How much money did you waste on this ridiculous extravangance? 

Yeah, how much did everything cost? I forgot the exact details - but it was about 210 € from Vladi to Moscow. And it could have been a bit cheaper. It really depends on the train you are taking - some lines are new, some trains are old, some stop at each stations, some don't bother. But basically, taking the train within Russia is cheap. Ok, I just checked and taking a plane would be like 25€ more expensive... and would last 6 days and 17 hours less. But shut up! Planes suck! 

What did you eat on the train? 

A very good point. Because food will, after some time, be your priority and occupation number 1. 

Very healthy breakfast. FYI this is TEA, not beer. 

You have the choice. You can either go eat at the train restaurant  - the 'German cantine' as I call it (because it tastes disgusting and is unhealthy). Quite expensive also. You can also choose to eat stuff you buy from old ladies when the trains stops for a little while at a train station - there are always old ladies who want to sell you anykind of delicious, fat and greasy food. Some vegetarian stuff also. Or if you are intelligent, you buy 3 kilos of cup noodles before boarding the train, but is that really what we want? Produce more trash? 

Another less reliable option would be to squat the first class compartments and beg people who leave the train to hand you the rest of the food they brought onboard. Yeah, Russkies never take a train without at least 2 dozens of boiled eggs, bread, mayonnaise and tomatoes. And chicken breast if you are lucky. 

Anyway, we played it cool and did a mix of everything. Besides the German cantine (where we only had one beer, once) and begging. Ok, actually we just bought cup noodles (please, dear Amazon forest, pardon me) and bread and some veggies and stuff before boarding, and also some delicious pelmeni (kind of Russian raviolis) from old ladies, and all kind of deep fried stuff. Which reminds me I should send flowers to the grave of my diet, burried somewhere in Siberia.

What are the things you need onboard (besides stoicism and sense of masochism)?

You can't survive a train ride that long without vodka (yeah, I'm a drunk, so what? But actually we were almost the only winos onboard, and our provodnik told us it was not allowed - but hey, you can always pretend you're drinking water, right?) . Anyway, you need kitchen stuff like a fork, a sharp knife (in case your neighboor snores) , a spoon and a bowl, plus a tea cup. I used a bottle of beer as a teapot. 

As for the rest, definitely take flip flops or any kind of easy-to-put-on-and-off shoes. When you board the train, enter the Dr. Farnsworth mode: forget about social decency and wear pyjamas (or comfortable clothes) and slippers all the time. Who cares! Everybody's doing it. 

About the entertainment, books and playing cards are always good. And music, if you're a music freak (by music, I mean either MP3 player, harmonica or tuba). If you don't speak the sweet language of Mother Russia, consider getting a 'conversation guide', or at least a dictionnary. We tried a mix of English, German, French, Japanese and even Swahili, but it wasn't enough to communicate... Some pictures of you, your family, dog or warts are also appreciated to help bound with your fellow Russkies. And when you are tired of talking, your earplugs and eye-cover will be quite handy to show your interlocutor that his conversation is no longer appreciated. 

We were a bit too extreme and got us some multipurpose disinfecting spray for the hands, the table, the toilets... Speaking of which: I almost forgot the item number 1, nicknamed 'white Gold' by professionals. I mean toilet paper. If you're lucky, your provodnik (each wagon has 2 employees with day and night shifts) will make sure the common parts are clean and provided with  toilet paper; but you never know. Bottomline: don't forget the White Gold Roll. 

Also keep in mind that you might not have easy access to your luggage during the train ride (they can be stored under the seats of fellow passengers and you don't want to bother that 1m90 Uzbek guy when he's taking a nap), so try and manage to stuff the things you'll need in in a smaller bag. 

What kind of services are provided onboard? 

Luxury breakfast with caviar and champagne included, karaoke room, sauna and a home cinema. Kidding. Though if you are travelling during summer, the whole 3rd compartment might get quite hot and steamy... 

Like I said, depending on your provodnik, your compartment will be cleaned daily or yearly, and there might be tissues, soap and toilet paper... Russian roulette style. 

They provide you with a mattress, some sheets and a small towel. There are some plugs here and there (suitable for basic French or German electric systems), but they are located at the end and at the beginning of the carriage - if you're a misanthropist full of fear, you might want to stay close to your Ipad charging. But people seem to keep an eye on each other's stuff, no need to be paranoid there.  We didn't get anything stolen, although we spent many hours away from our stuff... I'll get there...

And was the whole thing worth it? 

No, I missed one week of my favourite TV show and there wasn't any hot stud onboard. Such a waste of time. 
No dummies, of course it was worth it. I am happy that life, in one of her not-bitchy moments, gave me the opportunity to take this damn train. You're just sitting there, reading books, playing poker, drinking whatever cheap home-made booze you can buy on the platform, thinking about life, thinking about yourself, about your achievements, your dreams, about this blog that might just fade away in the infinity of Internet. 

You're passing through wonderful sceneries, powerful and wide rivers such as the Amour, forests of white trees, small scale meanders, little villages populated by congenital Siberians struggling for a better future (130% of which showing support to Poutvedev). 

You try to talk to people and realise the train is full of Urzbek, Turkmen, Kazahk, Tatar, Kyrgyz (try this playing Scrabble and you'll be annuitant for the rest of your life) - all of them speaking or understanding Russian well enough to communicate with each other. While they are mostly going from point A to B, either going off to work in some factory in a remote area, or returning home to their families after too many months of hard labor, you are travelling. You have the choice between plane or train, and they don't. 

It makes you think. Taking the Trans-Siberian train is a life experience - not necessarily as in life-changing, but as in piece of life. Like scraping the mold of the huge cheddar bowl that is Earth and analysing the fungus that we Humans are. 
So yeah. It was basically worth it. 

I have to go now, but a last word of advice: keep in mind the timetables of the trains. Because the train won't wait for you if you don't come back early enough from your little stroll around the city. I'll get there in the following post. 

Next time... I'll definitely go by foot. 

Japanese primary schools... Oops! Universities.

Hello ! 

I recently had to write a small report for my German university about my impressions of Japan and the experiences I made there. Now calm down! I didn't mention anything about my 'cultural' experiences in Butterfly club - I just had to talk about my impressions of Kyoto university. Allow me to reformulate the politically-correct crap I wrote and let me unleash my hatred for this stupid elitist cast-making entity commonly refered to as 'the Japanese education system'. 

Having spent just a few months in Japan is too short to be able to catch the wholeness of the Japanese culture and way of living. There are things that you'll just never get (like why the hell do the taxi drivers wear stupid white gloves?) - and things that you can easily decipher, using the power of logics. Fortunately - otherwise you wouldn't be able to read this post (get a life, by the way), I was able to resolve the following question:   

why the f***do a lot of Japanese students sleep during class? 

Basically, you have a normal lecture hall designed for 100 people (which is never full) and you'll find at least 2 or 3 students sleeping. You'll say it's not much - I'll say f*** off. I mean there are constantly 2 or 3 students sleeping like shit, anytime of the day, in any class. As if they don't have energy, or motivation to study. Kind of weird, as their parents have to pay the (f++++ expensive) tuition fees (2800€ per semester BIATCH). It's as if they don't care about studying itself - it's paid, they'll get the degree somehow, the grades don't seem to matter much. Is that so? 

I tried to look deeper in the subject, talked about it with expats and Japanese friends. You surely heard that, like in China, poor Japanese school kids are encouraged to (read: forced to/threatened if they don't/beaten up and left dead unless they don't) study hard during high school, to get good grades and enter a prestigious university. Besides making their parents proud - which is nice for them, as they probably didn't have any source of happiness or pleasure since for ever - it will ensure the good students a great life after graduation: they will get hired in a big company, get a free training and become a rich salaryman (read: an emotionless robot doing what it's been told without thinking). Because big firms like people who graduated from famous universities. And working in a big company is basically everybody's dream. 

Isn't this picture perfect? It's so well organised and put out together. First you study hard in high school, then you get to relax during university times; then you graduate in slavic cultures and history of art but get hired to analyse the financial aspect of that new contract Honda just signed with Exxon. How logical! Wait... Wtf? Doesn't seem that logical after all. How about people care less about the university of the degree, and care more about the degree of the university? It's not complicated. You just have to invert 2 words. 

Ok, I understand that the field of your studies sometimes doesn't relate to your future career, that you can take a different path... 

But what if universities were meant to be a place of shared knowledge, a place where you could learn important skills for your future life. Like communication, logics, organisation, leadership... And not a daycare center for post-pubescent Japanese. 

You heard me. University time in Japan is basically seen as 4 years of holidays. Those 4 years are granted each students as a reward for working out so hard to enter university, and as a compensation for the lifetime sacrifice they will be making to their future employer: after they get hired, they'll only get one week of holidays per year, plus a few extras here and there. Oh, and they will be morally obliged to stay out late in the office for no real reason. So let's be nice and let them enjoy their careless holidays, where they meet friends, life-lasting partner and make connections important for their future career. 

How about learning a new language or learning how to think and express oneself logically? Sorry, that's not on the plan. 

So, that's why students sleep during class: because they are spoiled little brats who don't give a s*** about learning potential new stuff, knowing their future is already secured (read: will be as boring as hell). Mind you, I make fun of the poor students, but I should also blame the Universities which, knowing their position of 'elites' and enjoying every second of it, won't do much to change that - we don't want those students to know how to think! We don't want to teach them new stuff - we want them to know how to quietly obey the rules. Good girl, good boy!  

Because if they changed the system... It would mean the students would have more knowledge, a better organisation, a sense of fairness... They might start to claim more things, or worse.... be independent. And we don't want that, do we? 

I saw an add on TV one day about the Kyoto University. It said something like that:

"Welcome to the Kyoto University, 2nd best in Japan. Our facilities include some irrelevant research offices and a few faculties, all teenager-proof. Our children-friendly staff is fully trained and is looking forward to assisting your progeny in their daily-life struggles - how to fill a form, where to find and how to use the toilets, how to cure a hangover or a tough breakup. Their well-being and healthy development is our priority number 1 and and we will make sure that no part of their brain will be sollicitated during their stay at Kyoto University. 

Kyoto University. Care takers since 1897. Fees from 50 000¥ a year."

Home, Europe

Hello freaks ! 

Yes, you've missed me, so what? I'm finally home, back in good old Berlin, after months of wandering around the world and sh**ty countries. I assume you didn't all forget about my existence of semi-professional loser, so I'll update you about the newest news. How about I start by showing off? 

Argentina was fun but expensive - seriously, since when are third world countries more expensive than France? Now that I think about it, I'm starting to regret having set my course to this nevertheless beautiful country, where I began squandering my savings. Ok, I'll stop wining for once. La Paz and Sao Paulo were cool, and the food was great. And YES, you can survive in Argentina without eating those stupid pampa steaks. 

Chile had beautiful landscapes but was a complete disaster... It showed me that, no matter what, you can only count on yourself. And when it comes to me, you can't even count on yourself. For further questions, refer to my shrink. 

Hong Kong was cooler than expected, probably because there was free Wifi at the airport. I was there for a few hours on a Sunday night, after a 14h30 flight from Los Angeles. My expectations were very low - go to the city, see stuff, eat, see stuff, go back to the airport. I managed to do all of those, and even managed to check my mails! Hong Kong is a weird place though - it's Chinese, but also English, and also very international. HK is basically an upgraded version of China, let's call it China_v.2. 

Japan was as stuck-up as your mother-in-law. Even worse - as stuck up as your mother-in-law having hemorroids. I still had a wonderful time, though, as Japanese people are the nicest in the world. And the landscapes are more than stunning. But still - the society is full of tabous and social rules and peer pressure and stuff. Have you ever listened to the song 'The great pretender' by the Platters? Well, it's a bit like that for Japan. Combined with 'The show must go on' by Queen. 
The Article 1 of the Japanese constitution: "Any attempt of showing or feeling any kind of emotions on Japanese soil shall incur criminal liability and might result in application of the death penalty." (What? This quote is a fake? Damn, that will teach me to quote Wikipedia) 
But who are we to judge? 

South Korea is a great country with nice beaches and FUC**NG typhoons looking forward to ruin your holidays. Yeah, travelling in a typhoony region during typhoon season wasn't the best idea I ever had - especially if the travelling part is done by ferry. During 19 hours. But although I was as seasick as shit, I'd do again, and perhaps a 3rd time. But unlike Bender, that wouldn't be it, I'd keep avoiding those bloody planes and take ferries if there are some available. In the name of environment, anti-mainstream and hipster attitude. 
The spicy food was delicious, although those stupid koreans don't understand the concept of vegetarianism. Damn you all! I always had to make sure they didn't add weird sea food or chicken's eyes in my food. 
Besides, Korea is like a cooler version of stuck-up Japan. Don't get me wrong, they are still somewhat uptight - let's say they are just as stuck-up as your tax collector. 

Russia was a breath of fresh air (and cheap alcohol) . People are way more cooler than in Japan & South Korea - by that I mean that they are way more rude. They will slam the door to your face and tell you to fuck off if you are in their way. In Japan, would they do the same, they would commit seppuku. Sooooo better to deal with direct people. Of course, cheap vodka helps, I guess.  

Oh, I almost forgot Lithuania! Vilnius is cute and feels like a village in the countryside (but seriously, who cares about Lithuania? Raise your hand if you knew this country existed). 



It has been a blast - and I managed not to get stolen, nor to get killed. I never lost my passport and was never bitten by street dogs. There were times were it could have gone bad - like going camping in a NON-waterproof tent when a thunderstorm is coming up, or accepting an invitation to spend the evening playing poker in a countryhouse near Moscow with 8 men from Daghestan, Armenia, Georgia or Azerbaidjan - me being the only girl. Aha.

So what did I learn from those 8 last months? Did I become happier? Did it make me a better person? Am I now an adult? Am I wise? 
People, don't be ridiculous. I'll never reach adulthood, nor will I be refered to as wise (read previous paragraph if you doubt this statement). I guess I changed after this wonderful trip, and I think I know what I want and expect from life. Happiness is not something you can buy on the black market in Vladivostok, unfortunately - but I'll keep looking! Seeing different lousy cultures showed me than being European is awesome (even though the Euro currently sucks). 


I did realise something about myself. I had taken a class at the Kyoto University about the Japanese society - one of the only interesting classes. We had to think about the concept of nation and citizenship. I have a French ID and a British passport, a German driving licence, a fake asylum seeker ID and a stolen Portuguese hunter's licence. Which made me realise that I am everything and nothing at the same time. I called you freak at the beginning of this message, but you should be throwing stones at me for being such a weirdo.


So I am back in Berlin and saw wonderful things, met awesome people, and learned a bunch of new stuff. Discovered other ways of life, and was pleased to realise that no other country reaches the greatness of the French culture. Yes, you all suck! Which made me realise that I'm not entirely home yet. Sorry Deutschland, but France wins. Mostly because of the food! 


Quand reverrai-je, hélas, de mon petit village
fumer la cheminée; et en quelle saison
reverrai-je le clos de ma pauvre maison
qui m'est une province, et beaucoup davantage? 

If you can name the poet, I'll post a video of me pole-dancing! 



Next time, you'll know more about how shitty the Japanese universities are. Because they suck!!! 

3 months in a nutshell

Hello, suckers!

It's been a while. I had told myself before starting this shitty trip that I would force myself to post at least one message per week. Which I didn't, obviously, otherwise I would already have won the Nobel prize for literature and the Goncourt, not to forget the Tanizaki.

But you know how life works. Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans: I got caught up in other various things, like discovering the Japanese culture, traveling around, learning vocabulary - but mostly getting drunk and having fun. My liver had to work full time, so my brain and my writing abilities were kind of on a break, like Scruffy would say.

So here I am after 3 months of silence. I guess I lost the little audience I had managed to gather, and I doubt the 11 members who spontaneously enrolled are still around to follow my adventures... But somehow, like Mulder, I want to believe there is something out there. This blog is not dead! Let me give you a reason to read me again, to comment or to wire me money to pay me an Ipad (ou me le donner gratos, hein Jeremie?). Let me try to summarize my summer.

Where should I begin? First of all, I had a blast. I won't give too many details on what I did with whom (by the way, the post concerning the point number 5 is hereby declared void: after some deeper research, I can maintain that Japanese guys have much more to offer than what I thought), but basically I saw many places, had my sister visit, climbed Fuji (TWICE, bitch!), hitchhiked again and again, went to Korea, to the best open air hot springs in Japan (which also happen to be free, BITCH!), to some small islands... Unfortunately, the adaptor that recharges my computer died on me, so there won't be many pictures.

Quoting Bismark to emphasize my thoughts:

"Alles hat ein Ende - nur die Wurst hat zwei"

(translated in English: everything has an end, only a sausage has two),

I was forced to put an end to those delightful summer days. I swam a last time in the Pacific ocean, took a last breath of fresh air and then hopped in a ferry to dirty Tokyo where I met a friend with whom I would travel back to Europe, via the transsiberian train.  

This was 3 weeks ago. I had cleaned my room, mailed heavy stuff home and stuffed all my belongings in my backpack. I left Japan the 22nd of September, and I would lie if I said that my eyes contemplating the port of Sakaiminato, from which we left, were not soaked in tears of sadness and melancholy. Nostalgia for a country that I liked, loved, despised, adored, for a country that pissed me off like hell, that blessed me with happy days and expensive but delicious food, was a beautiful feeling that I felt on that boat, looking at the horizon and at that 'departed' stamp on my passport. Those days were over.

But this feeling was not meant to last - a group of Russian seamen going all the way to Vladivostok opened bottles of Cognac and Whisky, and put us in the moral obligation to drink them with us. And then it hit me: it was time to open a new page on that book of life: Russia!!! The hell with Japan!!! now it's time for cheap vodka, delicious fat and greasy food, impolite and rude people! And more important... I was on my way home!!! (Where I should have stayed, if you ask my advice)

I'm in Moscow right now and enjoying the rudeness of the people, the presence of trashcans everywhere and the cheapness of cheese, bread, vegetables, fruits, basically everything. AH! 

I'll get to tell you more about those things I did in Japan - one day... Or should I skip all this and continue with the Russian adventures? For all I know, you should run to the nearest synagogue, church, mosque, temple or cave, light a candle and pray that I will find the strength to continue writing those messages.

Anyway. I should go. Thanks for reading.

PS: Oh, and for the record, I did win that contest. Not the best prize, but enough to be proud of myself and to buy one month of beer. Thanks a lot to those who helped. And to those who didn't: you suck! 

Help me win this contest!

Hello loves! 

I sent an article to a contest and if I want to win, I have to lick many asses and ask people to read it, comment on it, post it around (on FB, G+, Tweeter...). So if you have a soul, if you want to keep reading the stories of my lame travels and bad organisation, help me out! If I win, I'll post articles more often! 

THANKS MORONS!

The link to my article: http://www.fogs.com/articles/worst-possible-way-of-starting-a-trip-1562

PS: Yeah I know, I should get a life. 

Modern times geishas: shifting from classy to slutty

Hello, dearest readers. 

As you might not know, I don't receive any form of financial help from the Japanese Government (nor from the German, French or Zimbawean ones). Luckily my parents bless me with a monthly transfer on my bank account which allows me to eat enough rice and sometimes, beer. Times are hard in a country where you have to pay 35€ for a melon. Ok, life is not that expensive if you go by bike all the time and couchsurf when you travel. Vegetables are ok, fruits are not. You just have to adapt. Anyway, since I am a disgusting cheapo, I would do anything to save money - and also to make some. Especially if it involves working few hours and earning a lot - even if it means working as a sexy hostess in a shady bar.

Let me tell you about one evening I spent in Osaka 2 or 3 weeks ago. I had seen a small add in a local English newspaper about this job: being hostess in bar. Don't know if you ever heard about the concept: it's not a strip club, it's not a brothel. It's basically a bar where businessmen go after work with collegues or friends, and talk to charming young girls wearing slightly revealing clothes: the hostesses. Their job is to talk to the customers, to charm them, to pour them drinks and make them spend a lot of money. They earn a lot of money for just talking, about 30€ per hour. But it's not just about talking: hostesses are supposed to exchange contact details with the clients and to meet them outside working hours, for dinner or theater or whatever. Sexual activities during working hours are not meant to be, but you can do what you want the rest of the time...

This I didn't know when I read the add. It was formulated in a positive way, like 'friendly, and outgoing girls wanted, 25€ per hour, flexible schedule, Japanese and foreigners welcome'. So I thought, why not? Getting paid to get the chance to work on my Japanese? I'm already flirting the whole time so why not receive money for it? Hanna, my Dutch partner in crime, also wanted to try the experience and we got an interview on a Friday night in the bar located in Osaka.

We dressed up as classy sluts and went. We walked through Umeda, the 'amusement' neighboorhood of Osaka, where you can find the worse of the Japanese society. We were to enter the wonderful world of adultery, lust, greed of money, faked feelings and superficiality. On our way we saw many women, young and mature, with faces covered with 50 layers of makeup, wearing fancy but sexy clothes - accompanied by mostly older men. It hit us after some time that they were hostesses with their clients on their way to the bar they work in. They looked really beautiful and sexy, they looked like real women, not like cute and young baby dolls like Japanese women usually look like. Which symbolises the huge massive dichotomy of the machist Japanese society. But I will come to that later.

We entered the bar and it felt normal, not weird, at least at the beginning. It was empty, as it was only 8pm. We talked to the manager and didn't understand much, but a waitress or something could translate us. We learned that we were supposed to wear colorfull dresses, have our haid properly done (I can't find suitable words to describe the look the manager gave to my current hairstyle - it was raining that day and I looked like a hobo). We were supposed to look sexy and perfect. They told us what I wrote earlier: that we were supposed to meet the clients quite often. They asked us when we could work and when we could start. As the interview ended, some clients entered the bar. Two girls rushed to them and started being all sexy, laughing at their jokes and entertaining them, and more important, pouring them drinks. Could I picture myself doing that? Pretending I'm having a good time when I'm not? Letting some guys spend time with me in exchange for money? Letting them fantasize about me?

We left with a bad impression about the job, and thought we would never get it anyway. We walked through the neighboorhood and noticed the environment that we were currently in: full of modern times geishas, who were not the rafinated and delightful ladies geishas are. Of course, geishas always fake their feelings towards their clients, and are also doing it in exchange for money... But at least they look pure, are pleasant company because of their rhetorical skills and their general culture, and master singing, playing a music instrument and dancing. Completely the opposite of those cheap modern sex fantasies who just laugh, talk a bit and wait for the guy to pay them expensive clothes.  

How weird it is that everybody knows that the businessman is paying the girl to spend time with him -yet it is well considered to walk around with a younger sexy girl. How disturbing is that! If a man is seen in good company in restaurants or elsewhere, it is a good sign concerning his social status and his wealth. Other values or characteristics such as intelligence, humor or charm that are normal reasons to want to spend time with somebody seem to have disappeared, to be replaced by the lust for money.

I guess it's like that everywhere on Earth, so I'll just complain about something else. Those guys are mostly married. THEY ARE MARRIED. They wifes know about it but don't do much. They are housewives and are quite happy with the idea of living a decent life without having to work too much, and if they happen to complain about the after hour activities of their husbands, they might loose everything - so they just pretend they don't know about it.

Why would a guy 'cheat' on his wife? Why? Seriously? WHY? Apparently it's because Japanese guys, who are nothing else but d***heads, separate their inner desires from their pragmatism: for everyday life, they don't want women who resist them: they want an easy life, like to have cute puppies that are happy when they come home after work, waitresses who prepare food and cleaning ladies who keep the house clean and neat. And if they can have everything in a single person, they will marry it. Yes, it. We are talking about robots here, not about human beings. Once in a while, they give in to their fantasies: young, sexy, daring girls who lure them for an evening or more. They enjoy this forbidden life, knowing they can't have it - they enjoy the time they spend with the girls, knowing they don't want to be with them, secretly despising them for being sluts.

So Hanna and I didn't know what to think, or what to do if they were giving us the job. The cultural experience would be really interesting, but how disgusting would it be to talk to old married assholes for money. Could we be part of the system? Would we want to?

A few days later, I got a message from the manager. The job was mine if it wanted it. I answered yes, telling myself I would at least try once, saying I could work the following week. They never answered this message - which, I guess, is for the best. I could never pretend I'm another person, be all dressed up, and pretend I'm having fun. I'm a hobo, I have bruises from karate or from falling on the ground while being drunk and I hate makeup. I have few principles but I stick to them!

Japanese wedding and diplomatic incidents

Hi people! 

Remember my last post about having troubles with the Japanese language? Another thing I didn't mention is that, when you learn vocabulary at the same time, you might end up muddling up words. As I arrived I learned a list of polite things to say while having a conversation with your potential Japanese mother-in-law. Things such as 'lovely day, isn't it?', 'happy birthday!', 'congratulations!' or even 'good luck!'. 

With time, I lost faith in finding a potential Japanese mother-in-law so I forgot most of the expressions, but two expressions made their way to my brain and stayed there: おめでとう　(pronounced omédéto) and　がんばって (pronounced ganbaté). Until a few hours ago, I kept forgetting which is which. One means 'congratulations!' and the other 'hang in there!' (bon courage). As from today, I will never ever forget.

Because today, I avoided a major diplomatic crisis and also realised that shuting up is sometimes a good thing. Let me explain: I was walking around and avoiding some university assignments, and ended up in a Shrine. Today being Sunday, there were a few Japanese newly weds that were either also avoiding university assignments and walking around, or were doing some photoshooting session. 

Since I am very interested in other cultures and in ways life-changing social events, such as weddings, are traditionally performed in foreign countries, I wanted to take a picture of the couple. (Kidding: I just thought they looked weird)

Being the polite and respectful person that I am (who's laughing?), I first asked if it was ok - the man said something that could have meant 'this is not a freak show, go to hell' but since he was smiling I assumed it meant 'please do, we don't mind'. It did mean option number 2, don't worry. So I went on and took this picture: 

By the way, since when do Japanese people have children before getting married?!

In order to show my gratitude and my deference to them (and prove to Japanese people that not all 外人 (foreigners) are disrespectful morons (which we are, by the way), I thought about saying something nice, like 'congratulations!'. But, and this will be known as the moment where, exactly like Daladier and Chamberlain did back in 1938, I avoided another World War. Because I didn't say anything.

Remember how this post started? About me muddling up expressions? If I had spoken up, I would have smiled softly, bowed slightly, and would have looked both the wife and the husband deeply in the eyes, and said 'hang in there!'. On a Richter skala of weird things to say to newly weds, this might just hit rank n°1. 

So from now on, I will think twice before saying something. And will develop a new technique to learn vocabulary. 

The excruciating pains of learning Japanese

Hello, dear random people I've never met. 

Now that we're over the boring and lame trip to Shikoku, we can talk about real stuff. There are so many things to say here, so many different aspects of the Japanese culture to introduce and to critisize, it's too much, I can't choose...

I don't feel like making fun of the Japanese people and their weird way of thinking and being, so I'll just trash the Japanese language instead. And tell you how infuriating it is to try to learn it. Gather around and open up your ears, children. (but don't worry, I'll make fun of the Japanese people next time).

The Japanese language feels like a peaceful melody to my ears, after years of German torture, and the grammar is relatively easy to understand and to learn. So what's the problem? 2 things for you. The kanjis. And the different levels of politeness. 

 

1/ Learn the kanjis (or die trying)

So basically, and I assume you know nothing about the Japanese language here, the Japs use kanjis and 3 alphabets. Well, technically they don't really use the 3rd one, the romaji, it's just for transliteration for names of shops or companies. So let's focus on the kanjis and the 2 other weirdos. 

The Japanese language is a mix of the 3: they use kanjis (pictograms having one meaning or refering to one specific thing), link them together with hiragana and if they are some English or foreign words involved, they will be written in katakana. 

What, you're not following me? Jeez, I'm giving you a free lesson about the Japanese language so the least you could do is pay attention, don't you think? Ok, I'll make an effort this time and show you an example. 

Quoted from the Japanese Wikipedia article 'International Whaling Commission'

 

Just look at each sign. Can you tell the difference? Quick tip, if you have headaches just from looking at it, chances are high it will be a kanji. Yop, these little suckers are weird. They were imported from China a looooooooooong time ago (or more than that, I forgot) - and there are about 50 000 in the Japanese language. Calm down! In order to survive daily life you are supposed to know about 2000 (!). And with 500 kanjis you'll understand about 60% of  a Wikipedia article about the Greenpeace actions in Japan, for instance. I know about 20. 

The best part about those little basta*** is that a kanji can be pronounced in different ways. And have different meanings. And some just look the same. Try learning that! Well, they can go to hell if they want my advice. Ok, there is one good thing: you can make your way around without kanjis. This awful and disturbing sentense: 京都 　の　大学　は　面白い　です。 can also be written in hiragana:　きょうと　の　だいがく　は　おもしろい　です。Much better, right? 

Because the hiragana and katakana are real sillabary alphabets, that you can learn easily, provided you have a functional brain, which is rare nowadays.

So why on Earth did they feel the urge to mix all of them? Was it because the Japanese were hipsters and anti-mainstream, and didn't want people to think they are followers of China? Or because they just wanted to be a massive pain in the a**? 

Actually it's because they started using Chinese characters that were not really fitting the Japanese language: Chinese is just ugly and weird, whereas Japanese is more sophisticated and refined; also because Japanese use prepositions that don't come as kanji-to-go. So they created the round and cute hiragana, and later on, the sharp and deadly katakana. 

So, a few advices while reading (or pretending you are) a Japanese text:

- if it's cute, round, has less than 4 lines: congratulations! It's a hiragana.

- if it's sharp, deadly, has less than 4 lines: congratulations! It's a katakana.

- if it has a lot of small lines, if it looks complicated, if they conglomerate: it's´a kanji. Pass your way or open Google Translate.

- if you can read it without any problem (provided you can read the roman alphabet): it's romaji! Have a good laugh, because generally, it won't make much sense. See this: 

Say what?

Anyway. So much about the kanjis: you just need to learn them, and then you're good. But now comes the funny part: the damn well-know politeness of the crazy Japanese people that prevents you from having normal conversations. 

2/ Politeness is for suckers

Yes. Because you can sweat your a** off to learn your vocabulary, learn the grammar, practice in front of your mirror and all of this for what? Des nèfles! as we say in France. I knew it before but I first experienced it here, while hitchhiking and talking to random people, old and young: there are different registers of Japanese: über-formal, formal, polite, casual+, casual/friendly, and my all time favourite, the yakuza style. 

Ok, I'm going a bit too far, there. But there are at least 4 levels, using a different vocabulary and different synthax. I know what you uptight morons will say: each language has its own levels of polite style. Just stop, you're making a fool of yourself, I'll answer: each language, except the hard but nevertheless beautiful Japanese language, use a common base with a few variations corresponding to the social situation of the speakers. And in Japan, IT ALWAYS F***** DEPENDS! There is no common base. You can meet older people who will talk to you in a casual and colloquial way, while some other old farts will speak with you in the pedantic style. And then people of your age will use the polite/neutral register, or the casual style.

It's not that hard to switch from neutral/polite style to casual, but if you are used to certain words and certain sentence patterns, it's kind of irritating to have to switch. Especially if you can't: our textbook teaches us the polite/neutral form; I get most of the casual form, but I'll keep answering in a polite way. Which is quite ridiculous.

Here's an example of the different levels (meaning: what are you doing?)

Über-pedantic: Nani o nasaimasu ka? 

Neutral / polite: Nani o shimasu ka?
Casual: Nani o suru ka?
Yakuza / bad boyz style: Nani o shiyagare, temee? 

So that's it. You talk to some people and you more or less understand what they say, you start mixing polite/neutral with casual, and at some point it doesn't make much sense anymore and you get kicked out of formal dinners with the Ambassador because you said 'pass the salt, bro'. This neverending quest is hopeless!

  

Golden Week: Hiroshima, part 3 (finally)

Am I ever going to stop talking about this boring trip that I took 3 weeks ago?! I'm also tired of it, so don't worry, this post will be the last about it! Damn! There are so many things to talk about and I'm like an old cat-lady, drivelling about the glory of her past youth.

After this post we can start talking about serious adult stuff (not that yet... but a visit to a love hotel is planed at some moment...)

Anyway. Just pull yourself together, we're almost done! Oh and by the way, just noticed how bad the quality of my pictures are, so this post is as good as useless. But stop complaining or go to hell.

I arrived in Hiroshima after a nice ferry trip. Ferries make me so happy I could cry ! I met my Couchsurfer, a nice Japanese girl with real English skills - which is very rare around here (not that the other CSers sucked at English). She's not really hosting right now as she lives with her parents, but she made an exeption for me. See, writing nice personalised requests (where you promise cooking delicious French dishes knowing you probably won't) prevents you from sleeping under a bridge and catching a cold! 

We walked around, saw the weird 'flower festival', which is some street festival with stages, weird traditional dance performances, stands of food and what ever. For the record, street fairs are as boring as in any other country, and there are the same amount of drunk people. And of sunburnt people. By the way have you ever seen a sunburnt Japanese? It's definitely worth a round trip to Japan. 

Hence the name 'flower festival'

After the fair we landed at the Peace Memorial Park, that you can see on the picture. I thought it was named after the Peace Nobel Price Japan won for stopping the whale hunt, but apparently it's because the city was bombed during World War II. I'm sure it's a marketing trick of the city, they just made that up. Come on, Americans destroying an entire city and killing thousands of civilians? No way! Wait... No it does seem legit after all. 

So the Genbaku dome (peace dome), one of the few buildings that survived the bombing, was built in 1915 by a Czech architect whose name didn't make it to the undevelopped brain cells in charge of my memory.

The dome stood because Chuck Norris was there.

The spot 600 meters upon which the bomb exploded is now a place pilgrimage for Guerilla Knitting.

What did we do next? Ahh I know. Remember when I said I suck at being organised? Well, it's true, again and again. I actually was travelling around Shikoku knowing I would come home via a night bus from Hiroshima to Kyoto on Sunday evening - because I had a Japanese test on Monday morning. But do you think I had bought my ticket? No, of course not. That would be too much thinking at once. I had checked at the beginning of the trip and the bus was almost empty - and at some point I tried to buy it online in Itaka, but it didn't work, so I just thought, hey it's ok, I'll just do it later. May I remind you that I was planing on travelling on the last day of a National holiday? The idea that the bus might be sold out in between might have crossed my mind a few seconds but didn't stay long enough for me to worry.

So in Hiroshima, I ask my CSer if she can take me to the bus station for a ticket home. I went to some desk and I was told that the night buses are full since 3 weeks. Ahahahaaha! Those Japanese people surely have a weird sense of humor. Wait, you're serious?

He was serious. So a funny idea popped in my mind: after trying out the rural areas and mastering the art of the Thumb, why not check out the mainland? Why not hitchhike 300 km on a highway? I ended up not doing that, but I gave this idea a lot of thoughts, and I still think it's possible. And I will definitely try it out one day. You just need to find a way to get you on a highway entrance, then smile and wait. And change rides at highway rest-areas. It's on! I thought, back in Hiroshima. Let's give it a go! But my CSer almost fainted at the idea of me hitchhiking at dusk, and tried to talk me out of it. I wasn't listening, I was already picturing me writing a post on this blog saying how cheap life can be. Ok, I was also picturing me not arriving in time for the exam, but who cares? 

At the end, we went home. And I had a great idea (I have some sometimes, it kind of compensates the bullsh** I keep doing): I checked the internet site of the bus company. You never know, I thought. And I was right! Apparently we went to a desk of another company, as the online bus company I was planing to take doesn't really have a real desk. Follow me? No? Get a brain. I was tricked because those suckers have buses leaving at the same time, same place, for the same price. Anyway, the bus I wanted to take was almost empty, so I could get my nice ticket. And avoid causing a CVA to my CSer and her parents, who thought I was crazy. Was not!

In order to celebrate those good news, we had dinner. To my great fortune, I was not meant to cook that night. My CSer's family invited me to the restaurant and we had Okonomiyaki, Hiroshima style. Never heard of it? People, stop thinking that Japanese people just eat sushi and soup the whole time. Give them some credit. 

Okonomiyaki is a dish that I am too lazy to describe, but basically it's a mix of an omelette with a bunch of chopped cabbage, and you top a special sauce and mayonaise on it. Here they add a kind of pancake and soba noodles to the receipe, and it's delicious. Okonomiyaki Hiroshima style is so good it literally blows your brains out, that's why it's called Hiroshima (this one is not from me but from Vickou).

Mmmmh I can't resist uploading a picture. 

  

The following day, we went to the Peace Memorial Museum, where I got the confirmation that Americans are not very nice. And that Japanese are funny people. 

The 2011 government apparently didn't get the memo, while dealing with Fukushima

By the way, this museum was very interesting, so if you are around, go there. Makes you dislike nuclear bombs. 

Then we went to Miyajima. You perhaps never heard of it, but you've surely seen the picture of the floating tori in front of a Shinto temple. Miyajima is an island located about 15km away from Hiroshima, that you can reach very easily by ferry. So my CSer took me there for the afternoon. The floating tori looks like this: 

 

I mean. It looks like this for normal tourists. But since I suck, and since life wanted to stab me in the back one last time before letting me go, of course it looked like this: 

Picture called 'loser'

Will life ever stop pissing on my bonfire? We can all agree on this that I'm not responsible in anyway for the renovations of this stupid tori. This time, I didn't screw up. Come on, life, tell me why you're being such a b**** here. Is it because I swear too much? Because I don't believe in God?! Because I once lied and said I am allergic to sea food just because I didn't feel like eating it?

Anyway, like I said, it takes more than that to take me down. Try harder, life. I will probably never go back to Miyajima and I was deeply looking forward to seeing this tori, but you won't manage to take my optimism away. 

So we went back to Hiroshima, had dinner, then I took my bus, which was almost empty. So I could take off my stinky shoes (yeah I just had 2 pairs of socks for the whole trip), lie down and sleep.

Good news, everyone: this is the end of the Golden Week trip!  No boring post anymore!