Papi.

Le jour ou mon papi s'eteint, à 94 ans tout de même, et qui probablement a cette heure trinque avec ma grand mere maternelle et son cousin, et tous les autres, riants à pleins poumons de nos pauvres élans ici bas,

se doit-il d'etre le surlendemain du dernier jour de mon contrat d'assurance qui m'aurait permis un remboursement total des frais de voyages pour être avec ma famille en ce jour de deuil?

ET se doit-il d'etre le premier jour, le triste jour, le jour tragique même, ou je me rend compte, pour la toute première fois, que je n'ai plus droit, moi, au tarif découverte SNCF 12-25 ans pour mon aller CDG- Lille Flandres?

Heureusement que j'ai la tête froide et le sens des priorités, sinon qui, je vous le demande, qui ramenerait du Saké japonais aux funérailles du seul qui aurait su l’apprécier a sa juste valeur, pour en arroser les gosiers endeuillés de ceux et celles qu'il a en partie mis au monde, et les ramener, si possible, a s'attarder sur les bons souvenirs entourant le vivant de celui qu'on enterre (au lieu d'enterrer le vivant les souvenirs et le bon).

A sa memoire, je vous livre dans toute sa finesse quelque phrases de ma dernière conversation avec lui:

-Mais alors, c'est vrai qu'ils crient tout le temps?
-Qui ça qui crie papi?
-Ben, les Japonais. Dans les films, ils crient tout le temps... Ils sont vraiment comme ca?
- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Bon, ouiiiiii c'est un petit peu vrai que des AAAHHHH! et des WOOOHHH! sortent très facilement de la bouche des japonais.
-Bon mais alors, avec la langue, c'est pareil que chez nous?
- ...NON. Du tout.
-Ah bon? C'est different comment alors? Ils ecrivent pas pareil?
-Pour simplifier, mais alors VRAIMENT simplifier, non, ils ecrivent avec trois systemes d'ecritures. Deux sont faciles et sont composés d'une vingtaine de signes chacun, comme notre alphabet latin. Mais en plus ils utilisent des ideogrammes, tu vois, les caracteres chinois?
- Ah?
-Et ces caracteres la, les Kanjis, peuvent etre lu de plein plein plein de manieres differentes, selon leur contexte, et alors du co...
-ROH PUTAIN. Roh ouai... Roh yo yo... Roh c'est compliqué la.
-heuuuu... oui.
-Bon mais alors tu t'en sors?
- Bah disons que je papote BEAUCOUP plus que j'ecris, v'voyeeeezzz...

Gender Identity (1) + Sexual Orientation (1) = 2, ok?

 Orientation Sexuelle ≠ Identité Sexuée,

 ou le super hero a l'intérieur qui veut crier quand on balance des conneries - 

je traduis cet article en Français pour 2 plaquettes de chocolat noir au sel carrefour (et il y un cadeau musical different pour ceux qui auront lu l'article jusqu'au bout)

Yesterday, I inadventently discovered an equal rights fighter hidden inside me.

Out of a tiny little remark of nothing. It wasn't the place to start a debate so I shut up though my face said it all, probably.

It happened at the small, totally laid back Japanese lesson I attend once a week. I won't even tell you about the different degrees of politeness between a man asking a question to a woman and a woman asking a question to a man (it's complicated AND I'm lazy AND the woman has to totally 'humbled' herself while addressing a man, even a younger man after a certain age, if I understood well, which made me cry inside (and made me realise that I was way more sensitive to this issue than I thought I was).

We started digressing about personal pronouns ( I ) in Japanese, and how they are many many different 'I' available for men, that women just cannot use. It's just the way Japanese language is. Woman can say watashi, or atashi (more girly version), that's it. Man can say many different 'I' depending on who they address and what image of themselves they want to project.

This guy I met once while walking around in Tokyo made a nice video about it here, go check him out (but come back after!). (Oh my god, as I checked this link I realised he is doing the same mistake I am about to tell you about...!!! I hadn't even realised because he seemed just such a sensible person... Petaaaaaaaaaa-kun! Nani wo suru yo!!! Ok moral of the story: nice people make mistakes too, it's ok).

SO back to my lesson: we're talking about the myriad of pronouns usable by men, when suddenly the man on my right, attending for the first time, said something along the lines of:
-''The problem is that many foreign males are taught Japanese by women and end up sounding completely gay.'' (Those were not his exact words, they are the idea that was expressed and that I reformulate here with my own broken english - man: six months in Japan does affects one's English).

That's when the hidden super hero tried to burst out of my chest with its yellow and blue cape and shout:

  DUUUUUDE! 

YOU ARE MISTAKING GENDER IDENTITY AND  SEXUAL ORIENTATION! 

And YES, it's a problem!

How many gay males do you know? How many of them are feminine? Being a guy who is feminine, in whatever way, does not mean he is homosexual! How many lesbians do you know? Do they all look like they ride a motorbike and like to punch stuff? Duhhhhh? Generalisation has never helped any oppressed population. If you said all jewish people have massive noses and a lot of money you'd have people telling you you have issues, at the best. If you took a massive Jamaican accent and pretend to speak like a black person, you'd simply be labelled racist. How many black people do you know speak with a Jamaican accent? And no! There's nothing flipping wrong with a Jamaican accent! Just not everybody fits into the little category you nicely created in your head to put them in!!!
Man look at me, I totally look like a boy. fact of the day: I am heterosexual. WOW hooooo nooooo! It doesn't fiiit!!! Ahhhh!!!

I guess my intention was not to put a bachelor's hat and explain by A+B with a superior look that some people need to be educated. I'm the last person to think I should educate anybody, about anything.
I just think the LGBT community has enough on their plates, and with many friends and family member belonging to that community, I just thought I'd explain something I think I got more or less right.

Now you've been brave enough to read all this, here's a musical reward.

It's on the house, you're welcome.

random news

I went to Saku to recycle shops to buy t-shirts to play ping-pong as mine were just not usable anymore.

I stopped at the red light and saw two owls. Don't. Ask. Why.

I found this t-shirt. Isn't it awesome? Ok I look 12 BUT isn't it awesome?

Meet Momo-chan, the first Vegan Japanese person I meet, 

who produces tofu independently, all alone, between two mountains not far from here.

She was probably the most excited person I ever met, too. Her voice is SO high pitched and she was so happy to be able to say 'see you again' in English and is so glad she left Tokyo to live in the middle of nowhere making tofu and was waiving to hard when I left I checked my mirror half convinced she'd be running after the car.

I think I'll go again, she was cool.

Momochan's kitchen, tofu factory, focusing place, I don't know.

Momo's place, as written behind me, is called The White Fireflies Tofu Shop. I think.

Two vegan meet! Yay!

A typhoon was supposed to come all the way up. I'm still waiting for it.

Apart from a month of rain with unbearably hot days randomly places in between, I ain't seen any typhoon...

Taiphoon wa doko?

Boooooooooooookkkkkeeedddd

I booked:

Home - > Shinjuku-hotel-de-malade,

Tokyo -> Sapporo, 

Sapporo - > Fukuoka, 

Kagoshima -> Tokyo Narita,

Narita -> Shinjuku-hotel-de-malade,

Shinjuku -> Fuji-San,

Fuji san -> Tokyo -> Home.

Hey ho, Nippon, Let's go!

j'ai toujours voulu marcher sur un chat

I always wanted to walk on a cat.

Today I went to a ballet class.

The last time was roughly 22 years ago. It made everybody laugh and I had a great time.

Sans titre (July).

Ce qu'il y a de bien avec un blog, c'est que tu peux dépasser, tu peux montrer les bords, c'est pas grave. Tu peux ne pas gommer tous les traits de crayons gris, ca va, c'est pas un musée.

Something about Maya-chan, and growing up, and something.

Male talking to female

Me: See? (Getting away from the camera) I bought a new dress!
Dad: Well, don't you have one like this already?
Me: ...


Me: What do you think of my new dress?
Roman (4 years old): Yayyyy. Is it your pyjamas?
Me: You ba...


Moi: T'as vu? - s'éloigne de la camera sur skype - J'ai acheté une nouvelle robe!
Le Pere: Bah t'en as pas d'ja une comme ca?
Moi: Ok, super, tu sais vraiment parler aux femmes toi.

Moi: Qu'est ce que tu penses de ma robe Roman?
Roman (4 ans): Ouaaaaiii. C'est un pyjamas?
Moi: Espece de petit c...

Le Pen... Pen.

Les Japonais ADORENT le Français. Ils en mettent à droite à gauche en dessous au dessus, surtout sans syntaxe correcte, surtout sans parler Français (juste en utilisant des mots en Francais collés a une idée, sans passer par la case 'langue étrangère').
Surtout pour faire classe dans les boutiques.
Surtout a tort et a travers.
Surtout a tort en fait.

J'ai pas réalisé en l'achetant, seulement dans le train.
Voici un malicieux melange de Franglais-Japonais qui j'espère en fera rire plus d'un.
Deja y'a moi, donc faudrait juste une autre personne que ca fasse marrer, s'il vous plait?

Le Pen pen!!! J'allais faire un jeu de mot avec ca fait de la peine mais j'ose pas.

Ainu Artefacts

There was a tiny bit of the Tokyo National Museum with Ainu artefacts.

Compare to the size of the museum, it was laughable. But at least it was there.

Pour Vincent.

Arrows - Hokkaido (Ainu)

Mukkuri - Jaw Harp
Hokkaido, Ainu, 19th Century

Iku-Pasui  -  Conveyer of Wine and Prayers to Gods
Hokkaido, Ainu, 19th Century

Jumping to Tokyo: an Owl, Art, Pattern, Ramen, and James Brown.

I had a surprise day off from my week end job, so I picked up my bag put my headphones on and jumped on a train to Tokyo.

I realised that listening to Radiohead or listening to James Brown will greatly affect the way you walk and feel. I opted for James Brown.

Right now, this is rather awesome, though. (You're welcome, no, really).

I visited the national Tokyo National Museum and let the flowers and patterns fill me (see pictures below).

I visited a tattoo artist with whom I only spoke once one of my foot was out of the door.

I had a vegan ramen with my friend Kenichi in Tokyo station,

 after observing the va-et-vient of the bullet trains and metros from a building roof top transformed into a garden.

Vegan ramen. I ate so much I could barely walk to catch my train home.

Can't walk on the grass, Tokyo Eki's neighbourhood is a bit like the Champs Elysée.  Many shan't there... But the view from there is lovely, Shinkansens looking like Tomica toys underneath your feet.

I bought a proper, made in Japan, nicely cut shirt (and if I wear it now with my short hair, I am unsure if I am a boy or a girl in the mirror, so it'll wait a bit).  I wanted to buy one for my brother and dad, as they also did men shirt, but figured a shirt has to be tried first...

(Bonjour, il pleut. Je porte une chemise. Merci aurevoir.)

And I also bought socks. 

You never have enough socks. Especially if like me, you loose one every week. 

Especially if they are made in Japan and look like this:

(I think I am now definitely a blogger. I mean. I posted picture of food and my socks. I can't go further I don't think.)

I saw a sculpted owl above my head in a metro station, too:

Cannot remember for sure, I think it was in Oimachi station.

Anyways, I thought I'd share some love:

Pour Vincent

Pour Lea H.