Higo Blog

The whiteboard is over-rated. Back in the day, we learned on chalkboards, and we liked it. Chalk has many more merits than the erasable marker. First of all, chalk (AKA CaCO3 as the nerds like to say) is environmentally benign and there is no shortage of it. Also, sniffing chalk will not give you a buzz (trust me, Chris Dempsey has tried this)- it will only give you milky looking snot and make you sneeze . Also, there is nothing in the classroom that lends itself to harmless fun as a fully loaded blackboard eraser. In addition, chalk can be used to write graffiti anywhere there are bricks or concrete, which is pretty much everywhere in a regular school, and if you get caught taggin’ they oftentimes don’t care since its isn’t permanent. Lastly, the blackboard was a rare, useful, effective instrument, efficient in its every use. When a teacher was pissed off, and could take no more noise from a crazed class- thats when she formed her right hand into a claw, bringing her talons of wrath chinking down and then screaching across the murky blackish green void.

Anyhow, I now teach mostly using blackboards now that I am in Japan. Last week I drew this portrait of this student, and I think it came out rather well. I am yet to use my fingernails to get attention, but now that I remembered it I am bound to use this dreaded technique in the future (you think your Wu-Tang Style can defeat me!?!).

Those bastards! They killed Kenny!
No they didn’t but they did open my mail and made it really obvious. The top of the envelope was roughly ripped open, stuffed into a plastic bag containing a note that said basically “uh, we opened your letter”- duh! I couldn’t tell this from the disgustingly violated state in which it was received. And all it contained were a letter and some pics.
I understand that the post office has concerns about delivering drugs, explosives, chemical, and biological weapons, but I still don’t like the way they opened my letter. They could have steamed it open and I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference, or they could’ve used a letter opener, but no- some guy used his hooked index finger to eviscerate my letter! I hope you got a bad papercut, and that it gets infected with gas gangrene, forcing you to use a letter opener like a civilized sneak in the future!
On a different note, I scared my students into using English today. My 2nd year JHS students refuse to verbally answer questions in class, so I forced them to change their ways. I explained that we were going to debate why I should or shouldn’t give them more homework, everyone against me and Mr. Sato. This worked much better than I anticipated, and almost everyone came up with a counter-point to every point I could think up. They also displayed their potential for creative and critical thinking, which I have rarely encountered at school. The points that they brought up were actually very good, and they questioned the validity of some of my points! The debate went up until the last minute, and I had them scared, because we were tied. I argued the last point for their team, and they enjoyed a victory. If you make the stakes higher, they will step their game up a notch!
Also I believe this worked by putting things into perspective. It is a bit embarassing when you first start to speak in front of any group of people, but being assigned more mind-dulling work is a worse fate. I think this approach has many applications for others as well. For example, if you drop a group of rich self-centered Newport Beach kids into the heart of South Central at nighttime, they will work together and solve problems instead of throwing a fit and demanding that they deserve a new BMW instead of the old Mercedes that was handed down to them. If you stick a middle-class obese systems administrator in Guatemala, eating too much food will not be a problem anymore, nor will not having the time to exercise as they slave in the banana plantations to earn enough food to keep them alive for the day. The opportunities are endless, and at the end of the day you have real solid results.

There is an old abandoned uncompleted golf resort in my town, located right next to another swank expensive resort. This place used to be special to me, when me and Harvey were the only ones who knew of its existance.
The first time I visited the hotel was in late September of 2002. Harvey had told me that the resort was an idea conceived during the peak of the bubble economy. A local entrepreneur pitched the project, including the creation of a full golf course and luxury hotel, to his fellow villagers. They all chipped in a fixed portion of their income and watched their guarenteed cash cow coming closer to completion with every passing day. The hotel was almost complete, and the earth moving equipment had pushed around the earth to accomodate a world-class golf course- there was every indication that from this point on, the cash would come a flowin, and everyone would be rollin in brand new luxury cars, soaking in champagne filled furos, etc… And then the bubble burst! The major capital that had been seeing the project through was suddenly cut off. Only a little more money had to be raised, but this proved impossible. No one had any money to invest, and if they did, they were very reluctant to do anything other than stash it away.
The project failed and the entrepreneur felt a heavy burden. He must have felt like the spectre in “The Rime of the Aincent Mariner” carrying a decaying albatross around his neck. There was only one way to lessen the dishonor that he had brought to his family and ancestors. And so he committed seppuku (so I was told). For those of you unfamiliar with this ceremony, it involves thrusting a knife into your stomach and slicing across from one side to the other. The longer cut you make, the more shame is erased. Pain through purification.
Anyhow, I made my first trip to this place alone close to dusk. I walked around, acutely aware of the total silence, broken occasionally by the buzzing of flies and the scurrying of frightened animals. The place was straight out of a Steven King novel, and I spent an hour exploring the three levels of floors and the clutter packed basement. I remember finding a balcony where I got reception, and calling Justin. It was a truly creepy experience, and he was shocked that I had gone in by myself. The more I described the eerie deja vu vibe mixed with the feeling of being watched, the less I wanted to stay in the hotel. I hung up, and tried to find my way out. The fading light of the late afternoon, filtered through the prisms of broken windows, through the stirred up dust, making richly hued beams of gold. Dusk would come soon.
I stepped up the pace and retraced my steps, or tried to. I had explored so many places that I had forgotten where I had started. The hallway that had come from the lobby spit me out at another hallway. The stairway that led to back to another exit took me to where I had just been. This was really creepy. I had a strong urge to run away, to get out as fast as possible, but I fought this. Ah, there it was, the unmistakable rotten mattress that led to the stairs ascending to the lobby. I dashed forward into the darkness and disturbed a couple of bats who flew almost directly into my face! That way was not going to work. Finally I worked out my orientation and got out of the hotel. Walking down the eroded road to my car, I had the feeling I was being watched from one of the many darkened windows (like Scooby Doo and the gang in any given adventure).
Over the course of time, I have taken many friends to share in the experience. They often are scared or at least unsettled, at the spooky environment. Soon, word got around and now everyone knows of this place. About six months ago I took a bunch of friends on a weekend and we ran into another group that had come to check it out. So the place has lost its charm. Its still a pretty fun place to go once in a long while. My friends like to go and kick down locked doors (there are no more of those now…, break glass, and smash anything that they can. However, visiting the site is done for a whole new reason than when I started.
What was mine has become everyones’. People always feel the need assert their braveness, to illustrate the size of their testicles. “That place isn’t so bad”, “The only thing I’m concerned about is the bats”, “I was expecting it to be scarrier”, etc… These people have also never gone in by themselves, and even if they had, they’re not going to have the same surreal experience that I had. They can’t. On my first visit, the place was unexplored by gaijin- a virgin chunk of wonder. Now, it is merely another curious place to visit in Aso.
I do know of other crazy abandoned places near my pad, but I think I will keep their locations to myself. One of them is the ruins of a partially burnt down love hotel. Again, I visited this place alone, and had a similar experience. Inside the pitch black rooms is old furniture and dusty relics from a time not too long ago. The beds are still made in some of the rooms, and there is a strange object that looks like a cross between massage and torture equipment (you can bet it was used to facilitate doing “the nasty” in various locations). I have not been back, and plan on keeping it that way, preserving the memory for only myself. It’s mine!!!
Anyhow, the Aso JETs want to have a halloween party at the hotel (thats right, its gotten that well known). I had thought about doing so when I first visited, but its a really bad idea. If they do have it there, I predict disaster in some form.

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