Saturday, November 05, 2005

Tokyo Disney: Truly the Happiest Place on Earth




I FINALLY had the opportunity to visit Tokyo DisneySea last week, no thanks to my co-workers (but that's a story for another day). After growing up 20 minutes from Disneyland in California, I can't remember a time when I went to a Disney theme park and didn't instantly know where to go and what to see. At DisneySea, I walked in and was instantly lost. It was kind of nice. So after seeing Disney from a fresh perspective, and a Japanese one at that, I stumbled upon the top secret Disney formula for designing an attraction. All you need are four key elements:

1. Think of some insane place to visit (ie. a pirate cave, outer space, the depth of the ocean, an old mine shaft, the center of the Earth...)
2. Treat it as if it is a totally normal place to be visiting (ala Star Tours)
3. Normal, that is, until SOMETHING GOES HORRIBLY WRONG (the pirates get rowdy, the train runs away, Briar Rabbit gets captured, attacks, alarms, flashing red lights galore)
4. And finally of course, the narrow escape (whew, that was a close one!)

There you have it, the perfect ride. Who said Americans don't love conflict? We genuinely do. If there's no problem, we are not happy. That may go miles in explaining our foreign policy at the moment, but maybe that's just me. Case in point.... At DisneySea there is a show out on the central lake of the park. This show consists of music and dancing and assorted Disney characters aboard various sea craft. You've got your schooners and ships, even jet skis. There are kites and flags--all sorts of visual props of course. And then...we'll that's it actually. Eventually the music dies down, the boats sail off and everybody wanders away. Soooooooooo incredibly anticlimatic. I was completly unsatisfied. Contrast this with the show at Disneyland in California, "Fantasmic". In that show, Mickey Mouse is having a dream, as mice tend to do, no big deal really, completely normal. Until, oh no, SOMETHING GOES HORRIBLY WRONG! A witch has infiltrated the dream and scary, scary things start happening. Smoke, strobe lights and yes, CONFLICT. Enough conflict that a narrow escape seems almost impossible, but nonetheless is achieved. How does that mouse do it? Now that's the stuff dreams are made of.

So there you have it, Disney Exposed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go work on my idea for a new ride involving a fireworks factory and panda bears. Panda bears with a penchant for playing with matches, that is.....

Mary Had a Little Lamb (Candy)




I came to Japan for new experiences of course. One of those new experiences involves trying new foods, but beyond that, new flavors. Not only do they have ice cream here, they have red bean ice cream. Not only do they have frappaccinos here, they have green tea frappuccinos. Melon and mango are also big flavors that aren't so prevalent in the States, but so far I haven't found anything to be scared of...well, until a few weeks ago. I'd like to think that I have the courage to try anything once (yes, I have been to a public bath house and it is not awful) so when the manager at my school offered me a piece of "traditional Japanese candy" (which I no longer believe to be true), I figured I'd give it a chance. The other thing that it had going for it is that it was made in Hokkaido. (Interesting culture note: Things from Hokkaido are automatically thought of to be quality. "Made in Hokkaido" is a major selling point for just about any food item in Japan. Hokkaido melons can go for $200 a pop in Ginza.) So he hands me this candy which at first glance looks exactly like a Starburst. Same size, same consistency, same wrapping. Except that it was brown. I don't know what kind of fruit is brown, but how bad could it be? As soon as I put it in my mouth, he starts laughing. BAD SIGN. Bad bad bad bad bad bad sign. This is decidedly worse than the time I ate sea urchin gonads. Read: WORSE than sea urchin gonads.... So it turns out it was lamb flavored candy. Grilled lamb to be exact. They put that into candy. They put grilled lamb into tiny bite sized cubes and called it candy. Ew ew ew ew ew. Meat candy. Meat does NOT belong anywhere near candy. I realize I am American and therefore am stereotyped into my preference of extremely sweet things, but candy is supposed to be extremely sweet! It's allowed! Not just allowed, required! If you want lamb as a snack product, put it into jerky. Don't make it look like candy!

Update: This guy doesn't like them either.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I am the world's worst mountain climber


Notice how the wind is blowing....up.

There are three things you should never do in Japan:

1. Assume that just because you want to transfer from a rapid train to a local train that they will run on either side of the same platform.

2. Agree to go out for all-you-can-eat pizza at lunch when you already have early dinner plans at an okonomiyaki (translation = big pizza like cabbage omelet thing stuffed with meat and noodles) restaurant.

3. Never should you attempt to climb Mt. Fuji completely unprepared to climb Mt. Fuji.

So I climbed Mt. Fuji the other weekend. I was under the impression that it was a relatively easy climb (for a path up a mountain anyway) that "anyone in normal physical condition shouldnt have a problem with" (Metropolis Magazine). I mean, why else would they allow just anyone to climb it? Ok first, let me explain the concept of climbing Mt. Fuji. The idea is to see the sunrise from the top...you know, Japan "land of the rising sun" and all. In order to do this of course, you need to begin your six or seven hour hike at around 9:30pm the night before, arrive at the top around 3:30 am or so and wait for the sunrise around 4:30 or 5:00. I had a well-stocked backpack: sunscreen (for the four hour hike down during the day), flashlight, tuna snacks, sweatshirt, 1000 yen (about $10)....I was good to go. That is, until I actually started climbing. I maintain that the people I went with were intent on being the FIRST PEOPLE up to the top because they practically RAN the whole way. I was the slowest, whatever. I had anticipated a pretty steep path (the final altitude is 3,776 m...not quite 12,400 feet) but there was actual hands and knees climbing involved. What no one mentions is that while the altitude does in fact make you nauseous, more importantly, it makes your muscles and joints not work anymore. After about an hour, my legs were so oxygen deprived that it hurt to bend my knees, thus making the climb a bit more difficult. Also people forget to mention that things are freaking expensive at the rest stations on the mountain and that only cash is accepted. The use of a toilet was $2, I bought a packet of miso soup for $4, just to enter a shelter was $10, and to stay an hour was $30. (Remember how I said that I only had $10? Yeah, I owed a lot of people a lot of money when all was said and done.) Even so, things were going just fine until the wind kicked up and started blowing people over. (Honestly, you or the person in front of you would get caught in a gust and the next thing you know, you're on your knees) Then the rain started. And the lightning. And the thunder. Turns out we were hiking in the collision of TWO typhoons. Yes, there were typhoon winds and pouring rain, and I was wearing only a sweatshirt and jeans while most other people were dressed in what I can only describe as astronaut suits. When we FINALLY got to the top we were greeted by a crowd of people streaming past us going back down the mountain. Just as we arrived, the park rangers were closing the top of the mountain because of the typhoons. After all that, NO SUNRISE! The one thing that had kept me going was not to be. I may never see the sunrise from the top of Mt. Fuji.

So overall, I will say it was a good, yet mildly harrowing experience. Honestly, next time I think I'll just run a marathon uphill while holding my breath. If you ask if I'd ever do it again I must quote the famous Japanese proverb: He who climbs Mt. Fuji once is wise, he who climbs it twice is a fool. I think I'll try to stay in the "wise" category for a little while at least.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

A Night of Civil Disobedience




I spent the evening expressly ignoring police orders. But let me start by saying that whoever said Japanese people are quiet has never been to the Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival. This show is billed as the biggest fireworks display in Tokyo, and very possibly the world. 1,ooo,ooo people + 20,000 fireworks = lots of noise. After braving the crowds on the subway (hey, that's part of the fun), I managed to follow the yukata-clad girls chattering on their cell phones up to the street. It turns out that Tokyo, with all of its tall buildings, is not the prime location for fireworks because there are about five good places to actually see anything. I found a great place just outside the station but it happened to be in the middle of an intersection that was crawling with police trying to keep it clear despite the closure of the street. Turns out, and this is the surprising part, in a society where hardly anyone would think to steal a bike (most bikes on the street aren't locked) or use a half-priced child's ticket to get on a train (even though no one really checks), these people were completely ignoring the police. I stood in the midst of ten policemen yelling on loudspeakers to clear the area for an hour. Granted they were doing a pretty half-assed job--only taking an interest in yelling at the crowd between bouts of fireworks and basking in the fact that this was in fact the best vantage point--still, no one paid a bit of attention. I did learn lots of different ways to say, "You can't stand here" though. My favorite part was when they started telling people that this was a bad place to watch the fireworks and that there was a much better place down the street. Which, remember, is less effective when you turn around to watch the fireworks in the middle of yelling that there's a better place. That's just plain manipulative, and was quickly proven false when all the people that went down the street came back. Hey, my excuse is that I'm a foreigner and therefore am not expected to understand Japanese so I had no idea that I wasn't supposed to be in the middle of the street. My other favorite part was that when the girl standing directly in front of me lit up a cigarette and I thought I was going to choke, the policeman came over to tell her to put it out and she did! Talk about selective listening. So between the police on their loudspeakers and people switching between talking on their phones and periodically yelling, "Sugoooooooi!!! (Awesooooooome!!)" at the fireworks, I could barely hear the explosions of the fireworks themselves of which there were never less than 20 in the sky at a time. It was absolutely incredible.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Eggstrordinary Dilemma


Ewww.


(That may be the worst title ever. Maybe I'll change it someday.)

So Japan's a great country, they have it all here. Where else can you spend $8 on your lunch break for pizza, tater tots, bottomless drinks and karaoke for an hour or ride the former world's tallest roller coaster at the base of Mt. Fuji? (Well, I guess that last one supposes Japan by default.) But anyway, it's a great place except for one thing.....People refuse to fully cook food here. Oh sure, the first thing you think is, "Well of course silly, that's what makes it sushi!" But I'm not talking about the fish. I'm talking about stuff that I was taught should be fully cooked no matter what. I'm talking about stuff like ham and eggs. Since I am not a fan of the ham in the first place, I don't really care that all ham here is served raw (still, eww) but I do enjoy a nice hard fried egg now and then. But they won't do it here, not even if you beg and plead. (I imagine. I've never done that exactly, due to the language barrier, but almost.)

I was brought up in the raw-eggs-will-kill-you school of thought. My mom would have a heart attack every time I even glanced at a bowl of raw cookie dough. (Meanwhile my dad, who was out of her jurisdiction apparently, would be practically gnawing on the spoon caked with dough proclaiming that if he were to die of salmonella poisoning, he would "die happy.") So not surprisingly, I learned to be disgusted at the thought of eating any type of runny egg: sunny-side up, over easy, poached, or soft boiled. As soon as an egg hit the frying pan I would jab it with a fork and a spatula simultaneously until the yolk covered the bottom of the pan.

You can imagine how surprised I was when I came to Japan and saw eggs in the grocery store...UNREFRIGERATED. I know the Japanese are famous for taking culinary leaps of faith (what other culture considers a fish known to secrete a powerful neurotoxin as a delicacy?) but come on! Unrefrigerated eggs? At first I thought, "Well, I guess if you cook them really well it doesn't make that big of a difference." But they DON'T COOK THEM! They eat a lot of eggs here and most people will mix a raw egg into their rice or ramen or eat one over easy on their "American" hamburger. It's easy enough to order meals without the obilgatory egg that is usually on top of everything, but what got me into this mess was the very reasonably priced "Morning Set" at Excelsior Cafe. (Excelsior = Japan's answer to Starbucks.) For the low low price of 400 yen (about $3.82 American), you get a breakfast sandwich AND a medium sized caramel almond latte. There are two sandwiches to choose from: one with raw ham (no) and one served with an over easy egg on top. This is an incredible deal IF I could eat a runny egg. But I can't. So I went to my friend Sali, who speaks Japanese, and asked her how to say that I wanted my egg cooked more. She wrote something down for me and the next morning I went to Excelsior armed with the secret password for cooked eggs. After I gave the girl the piece of paper she looked at me, asked a bunch of questions in Japanese (I have learned that if you are asked lots of questions in Japanese, it is easiest just to keep nodding "yes") and somehow my sandwich turned up without an over easy egg. In fact, there was no egg. This was actually an improvement, however not as good as if there had been a nice warm cooked egg, so I knew I couldn't give up.

A few days later, I went to Denny's for breakfast and ordered a fried egg. Again, I gave her the password scribbled on my paper in hopes that it would lead to a hard fried egg. Instead she shook her head and told me that they don't do that sort of thing there. So finally I just pointed at the scrambled eggs on the menu, knowing they would be served runny. They were. (ew)

I know what you're thinking, "Kellie, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." So I went to the store (specifically one that keeps it's eggs refrigerated) and I bought my own eggs. I got the pan hot and buttered, and cracked an egg in it. You won't believe this, but to my utter horror, the egg had already been soft boiled. It just sat there, in its semi-gelatinous state and laughed at me as it sizzled. Who sells eggs already half-cooked? Once an egg has been soft boiled and cooled, it can't be cooked more with good results. I learned that from experience.

So, after a few more failed attempts at Excelsior and having thrown the unhelpful scrap of paper away, last week I found myself at an Excelsior I had never been to (these are getting harder and harder to come by) and just ordered a Morning Set with no mention of egg-related requests. When I got my sandwich, there was no egg on it, but a HARD boiled egg sitting next to it, uncracked. What was this? I still have no idea what happened, but I guess I just really looked like I needed a hard boiled egg. And how right they were. How very very right.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Cherry Blossoms!




It's cherry blossom season and you know what that means (like everything else in Japan).....lots of beer! To celebrate the beauty of nature, it is customary here to gather up your spouse, children, kegs of pink colored beer (to match the blossoms of course), blanket and 100 of your closest friends, co-workers and drinking buddies for a day of revelry among the blossoms. Those cherry blossoms do have quite a franchise here; all of the alcohol manufacturers have pink flowery cans and bottles, the stores have fake cherry blossoms blanketing the ceilings and all the restaurants have cherry blossom bread, cakes, rolls, etc. I wanted to dry some flowers and save them but I think picking cherry blossoms is a federal offense, they're very protective of them here. Me, being the typical American that I am, asked when the trees will actually grow cherries. I mean, blossoms are great and all, but when can you eat them? My Japanese friends, mortified by my typical American-ness of valuing utility over beauty, were quite taken aback.
"You can't eat them, they don't actually sprout edible berries!"
What!? This is it!? Whatever dude. But they are beautiful, if you're sober enough to notice......

So I have my apartment finally, its small and will take some getting used to but it has potential. It's even got a little tiny balcony and a sliding glass door so thats kind of nice (yay a window!!!) The carpet is brand new from the last teacher and there is a sofa bed thing which is awesome because most apartments have futons on the floor. Mine is a twin, and half folds up to make a couch. It's nice that there's a bit of a separation between the kitchen and living room, because in some apartments the kitchen is just in the main room. It's right next to an elementary school and I can hear the kids on the playground during the daytime which I kind of like. One of the neighbors has an orange tree that drops oranges onto the front "porch". It's definitely a modest place but I'm getting used to it.


Last week I went to sign up for an internet connection. The previous teacher complained so much that it was dumb to have to take the modem away then bring it back (which it is, and which the company was threatening to do, we dont know why), that the company agreed finally not to move it and even said I could have 3 months free!!!! Ok, let me illustrate how different Japan is, if I haven't already. In America, if you complain, they will probably give you something free, maybe, but they will most likely do it begrudgingly. In Japan, he complained and so they asked when I would be able to sign the application. He told them that I work until 9pm every night (which I do) and so they said that someone would stay till 9 for me. So we go, and I expect them to either not have anyone there after all or for that person to be mad that they had to stay late. When we got there we were greeted by three people at the door and taken into a large conference room where I filled out the application as they served us hot green tea. They were in no hurry and answered every one of my questions, even leaving to go get more information at one point. They continuously apologized profusely for the inconvenince of "making" us come so late even though we specified the time, and in addition to giving me 3 months free, gave us all gift bags including little stuffed animals of the mascot of the company before we left. Then they escorted us to the elevator, pushed the button for us and bowed and apologized as the doors were closing. Crazy. Just crazy.

So there are a bunch of other teachers at my school, let me introduce you:

First, the head teacher is Sali who is Japanese, and yes her name contains the letter L which not many native Japanese people can pronounce. She studied abroad at Cal State Long Beach (how weird does that sound....studied abroad in Long Beach?) so we are new best friends because we both come from the LBC. We're tight, yo.

Next is Dale who is the longest tenured member of the Gotanda school staff. He's been here 4 years now but is finally ready to go home. He just came up for a contract renewal and he renewed for his last 6 months. So we'll both be leaving at the same time, next March.

Then there's Vince, a part-time foreign teacher. I came to replace Vince but he isn't leaving Japan. [Side note: I'm finding that the goal of a male English teacher in Japan is to ultimately find a job at a Japanese company (usually in computers or business or something) and end up marrying a Japanese woman thus negating the visa issue. They teach English because 1) the visa is good for 2 years after you quit and 2) its a good way to meet Japanese women. Pretty much every teacher or former teacher I've met has a job at Sony and either a Japanese girlfriend or wife. (In Japan it's totally acceptable to go out drinking with your students, male or female, in groups or not--it's encouraged really.) Because of this whole system, foreign women teachers are a rare breed. In my training group, I think I mentioned, there were 2 girls and 8 guys. So Vince just finished his full time contract and moved in with his girlfriend. He too is looking for a computer consulting job. Not surprising that he's the one who is getting me free internet and is the go-to guy for computer problems.

So these are my new friends!

Saturday, March 19, 2005

First Impressions of Japan for the Third Time




Japan is just like I remembered it. My first week here I spent in the training building for the English school I'm working for.  It's Japanese style so futons, tatami mats and paper doors. My roommate, Kirsty, is from Sydney. We're the only two girls here out of ten trainees and my Japanese is pretty bad, as expected, but I may not have a chance to improve it as much as I'd like since everyone speaks more English than I speak Japanese. Training is 9 hours a day Monday through Friday but the curriculum for the lessons looks pretty straightfoward (their word, not mine). It reminds me a lot of when I taught SAT review courses for Kaplan so it should be ok. All of us went to a ramen shop for lunch one day where someone noticed when the ramen guy was pointing to stuff on the menu that his finger was half missing and what was left was covered in huge wart-like growths. There were warts on top of warts. Ew. Unfortunately no one noticed until after we ate, so hopefully I wont die of some wart disease or something. We also went out for sushi, the first time I've had sushi in Japan, at a place where the sushi comes on a conveyor belt and you just pick and choose. It was really cheap, $1.05 per plate, and one guy had 13 plates. After that we went to a bar specializing in overpriced beer ($18 for a glass of the most expensive, I had the cheapest one for $8 thankyouverymuch) plus all bars here charge a seating fee, basically you have to rent your seat, usually $3-$5.

I talked to a Japanese student today who introduced himself as Hachiro and told me it's easy to remember because it sounds like Ichiro the baseball player. I told him I am from San Diego and he immediately was like, "Padres!" who still aren't that good, last time I checked. Is there a Japanese player on the Padres? I feel like that's the only way he would know about them.

I had a random thought today also, Japan is made up of millions of people living in paper houses interspersed with cigarette and beer vending machines and billions of dollars of electronics. Why hasn't there been a massive riot?

So the floorplan of my apartment looks nice, it's one tatami mat larger than most, bringing it up to a total of 126 square feet. It's at the end of the Asakusa line in Nishi Magome, only a 10 minute walk from the station. Although I think that's the older part of Tokyo so maybe the apartment is old and nasty. Speculation is so fun..... I won't see it for another week.

Today I was sitting in a Hawaiian chain restaurant in Tokyo. [Yes, the Hawaiians have chain restaurants, but none they'd like to share with the rest of the States (I have started calling it "the States" as opposed to "America" as my new Canadian friends are offended by the fact that"America" does not include Canada to most people in Japan)]. Anyway, I had a teriyaki chicken sandwich which cost $10. The $15 turkey, bacon and cheese was a bit out of my price range. Apparently avocados are hard to come by in Tokyo because one slice was $3. The best part about this place though is that everyone who comes in is greeted by a resounding "ALOHA!" from all of the staff. But since most Japanese people can't pronouce "Aloha", it comes out more like "AROHA!" and is hilarious every time.

Last night was my welcome party and welcome me they did. We went out to a "nomi ho dai" or "all-you-can-drink" at a local bar. One of my new co-workers studied abroad at Cal State Long Beach so we are new best friends. After the party we karaoke-ed (of course, it was my party wasn't it?) until 5am. (it was a flat rate of $10 all night until 5am). This country is so incredibly great.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Murphy's Law




I received my very first traffic ticket (well, first real ticket, not the parking kind) sometime before last Thanksgiving. I'm pretty sure that when I got the ticket I really had stopped fully at the stop sign, but I realize there have been a million other times when I certainly have not....and I'm willing to bet there is a whole group of folks out there who would argue that I have never actually stopped at a stop sign once in my life. "California Roll"..... right? So I'm not horribly appalled at the idea of receiving this particular ticket. I did the traffic school (finally after having to ask for an extension of the due date. 100% correct on the test though...I am an awesome driver) and sent in the "bail money" (a.k.a. fine), decided to be more careful next time and completely forgot about the whole thing.

About a month later, I get a notice in the mail thanking me for the timely return of the bail money and completion of traffic school, however I have neglected to pay the "bribe money" (as I like to call it) which is a separate fee paid to the city in addition to the bail and the fee paid to the traffic school in order for the City of San Diego (America's Finest City, of course) to ALLOW you to take traffic school. The amount of this fee was apparently alluded to in the small print, which, surprise surprise, I hadn't seen. So I dutifully and without comment sent in the extra $28 for which I was asked.

Again I managed to forget about my ticket that I had gotten, two months ago at this point, when I get ANOTHER notice saying that the city never received this second payment and since it was overdue, I would be charged an extra $250 in late fees if not "remitted IMMEDIATELY." (I had also sent a check to Jolene at the same time and she never got hers either, so it must have been the mail carrier's fault.) This time I call into traffic court to pay my fee over the phone by credit card. Their phone hours are exactly those that I am at work as a receptionist and while I make every effort not to make personal calls during working hours, this was on the verge of a financial emergency. When I finally get up enough courage to call (my boss walks by my desk regularly all day). The conversation went something like this:

"I need to pay my bribe money...er, I mean balance of my traffic ticket."

"What is the due date on the violation?"

"It doesn't have a due date. It just says 'IMMEDIATELY on the due date line."

"What's the due date?"

"There isn't one, it's just 'IMMEDIATELY'."

"There's no due date? Are you sure?"

"Yep, just says 'IMMEDIATELY'."

"Ok, what is your card number?"

"1234-5678-9012-3456. Can you repeat that back?"

"5634-5904-2956-2563."

"No, that's comepletely wrong."

"What was your due date for the violation again?"

You get the idea.

The best part was that as I was talking, I also had also been leafing though a Mrs. Fields cookie catalogue that the office had been sent, don't ask me why. So my boss walks by, sees me looking at a cookie catalogue, on the phone with my credit card out. Obviously I was ordering cookies on company time. Rats.

ANOTHER MONTH LATER (see the pattern?), I get ANOTHER notice in the mail that my credit card had been declined owing to it being past the expiration date of the card. Enclosed was a confirmation of my card info with the correct number but the expiration date recorded as April 2003. Now, first of all my expiration date is in 2006, but much more importantly, if you are taking down the expiration date of a card and someone tells you that it is in 2003...wouldn't you immediately tell them that it OBVIOUSLY won't work instead of consciously writing down "April 2003" and just being ok with it? She never said anything to me about my card supposedly expiring in 2003. It was cool with her, I guess. So now I am no longer permitted to pay with a credit card owing to the fact that it is "expired", and must go into the court to pay my fine. The hours to pay fines end up to being 9:56-10:02 AM, but only on certain Tuesdays every other month during a full moon. Oh and since my card was declined, I will need to obtain a "cashier's check or money order only. No cash or personal checks will be accepted."

Now I'm mad.

And I am not often mad. But I am now. So I call them again. And demand that I be able to use my credit card that is NOT expired because there is no possible way while working full time to be able to drive over there. Again I must call from my desk at work. Remembering what happened last time, I made sure to have all catalogs of any kind completely put away. Turns out, I must have called on the BUSIEST DAY EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD and the line was busy on my first ten attemps. Eventually I got through, but hung up the phone out of nervousness every time I imagined footsteps coming down the hallway, effectively sending me to the back of the hold queue every time I had to call back. I was told repeatedly that the current wait time to hold was about 20 minutes, which seems fine if you're a receptionist and planning to be on the phone all day anyway, but it took me about five hang-ups before I figured out how to answer calls on the other line without losing my place on hold. Finally I decided I would just have to remain on the line NO MATTER WHAT. Bosses walked by and I just smiled at them from the phone, UPS guys came and I signed for packages on the phone, I was able to juuuust reach across the office to fax papers I was given while still on the phone. I vowed that nothing was going to make me hang up. NOTHING. This of course, was when the phone guy showed up unexpectedly and told me hw was here to REPLACE THE PHONE. I am so compeletely not kidding. I (half) jokingly asked whether I actually needed to hang up in order for him to replace it and sadly he nodded yes.

I asked myself what else could possibly go wrong that day and was answered by a missing hubcab on the back wheel of my car when I left work.

To make a long story less long, I have successfully paid my bribe money to the city...or at least haven't heard from them in awhile....but yesterday I got a notice from the library that I have an overdue book.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

My Short-Lived Cause




I haven't really had a cause in awhile, you know, something to stand up for and get excited about. The other day, everyone's favorite UCSD former gubanatorial candidate decided to write an opinion article in the UCSD student newspaper, The Guardian, about alleged "misinformation" being given out on tours to prospective students. Here is the article followed by my response:
___________________________________________________________________
UCSD myths do a disservice to students
Daniel Watts

"Ever hear the one about Geisel?”

Apparently, the concrete support arms that surround the main section were an afterthought, necessary to sustain the building’s structural integrity after the architect “forgot” to include the weight of the books in the original design. It’s sinking, too.

Or so goes the myth, first mentioned long ago by some intrepid UCSD student and since spread by word of mouth.

There’s also the one about the Sun God statue: Make a wish as you walk beneath its arch, and it will come true. This myth is a bit less well known. I’ve been here four years and have yet to see someone make a wish. Nor have I heard this myth spread by anyone not employed by the university.

There are myths about UCSD, and then there is misinformation — a blatant disregard for the truth.

This columnist’s audit of three specific campus tours on Jan. 25, Jan. 26 and Jan. 27 revealed misinformation being spread by some of UCSD’s College Ambassadors — a euphemism for “campus tour guides.”

Other than the library, UCSD’s most recognizable symbols are arguably the Koala, the Sun God and the Triton. Only the Triton escaped the clutches of inventive tour guides.
When Koala members along the tour route respectfully offered their newspaper to passersby, a few tour members grabbed copies. The tour guide that day immediately called out, “That paper has nothing to do with UCSD. It receives no funding from the school, the people who run it have nothing to do with us.” He then showed the official student newspaper: the UCSD Guardian. The difference between the two, he said, was that the student government funds the Guardian (it actually does not), and it does not fund the Koala (it really does).

The guide mangled the Sun God festival, too. The “$2 million festival” (actually less than $200,000) was funded entirely by the university (actually funded by the A.S. Council), according to Andrew.

According to another tour guide, the university named Price Center after Sol Price, the woman who founded Costco. It is the central gathering place for UCSD’s 15,000 undergraduates, many of whom have classes in Peterson Hall, named after Jack in the Box founder Jack Peterson. UCSD’s own on-campus fire station protects these buildings. New buildings under construction in the Student Center expansion will include an “international market and grill.”

Speaking of international, UCSD evidently has an “international school” and multiple “international centers” spread throughout the campus.

Not quite.

Sol Price was a man, and he founded Price Club, not Costco. There are 20,210 undergraduates as of winter 2005, the founder of Jack in the Box is named Robert and there is no on-campus fire station.

Student Center will not have an “international market and grill,” whatever that means. Neither does UCSD have an international school (the closest thing is the Graduate School of International Relations and Pacific Studies). Although UCSD sends hundreds of its students abroad, there is only one International Center on campus — and that’s more than many other schools.

Some guides treated the parents and students on the tour not only to a deluge of false information about the campus, but granted an interesting take on the college system as well.
This columnist’s home is Earl Warren College, which one ambassador described as having “no well-roundedness” and “straightforward objectives.” It’s a “career-oriented” college, he said, with minimal general education requirements — all of which must be in the same relative field as the student’s major.

Another tour guide had apparently never even been to Warren. When asked to point it out, she stood at the edge of Warren Mall and actually gestured toward a path that, if followed, would lead the wayward student through an ecological preserve, then to Interstate 5.
She also claimed that Warren required an academic internship as part of its general education, and that its philosophy was “bridging the gap between industry and education.”
All of that is wrong.

Cataloguing these tour guides’ transgressions may seem nitpicky, but giving incorrect information about academic requirements is probably the worst offense a representative of the university can commit. What separates each college is a different theme and separate GE requirements, both of which these tour guides mangled. They each cited wildly varying GE requirements for each college, showing a lack of uniformity even in their incompetence. This misinformation does a disservice to the new admits and their parents, some of whom were actually taking notes during the tour.

Assuming guides undergo the same training, or at least read the same campus welcome brochure, there is no real excuse for such varied descriptions of the campus. Of course, there are competent tour guides as well. Among them are seniors who have been involved in campus life for their entire academic careers and know the campus inside and out. It’s a shame that all of them aren’t like that.

Oh, and the Geisel Library myths? Debunked athttp://libraries.ucsd.edu/services/legends.htm.

The UCSD tunnels are real, by the way.
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Ok, so after reading this article, I emailed the tour guide office and was told that all of the quotations used in the article were false. Apparently, the tour guides recognized Daniel Watts on their tours and knew to tell the Tour Coordinator immediately after the tour that he had been belligerent and may fabricate what had been said.
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My response:
Daniel Watts's attempt at expose reporting is only half done. Show me a report on 20/20 where the reporter didn't try to get an interview with both sides. On those hidden camera things, they always have atleast some statement issued from the "exposed perpetrator of crimes against humanity". As a former tour guide I have an interest in how the tour guide program is portrayed and a UCSD source says、"the remarks that he states were made by our tour guides were actually NOT stated by our tour guides. He made them up in an attempt to discredit the program. I spoke with each one of the tour guides immediately after their tours because he was hostile, aggressive and disruptive onthe tours." The source goes on to say that there were "major discrepancies" as to what was actually said. (I do hope he took another person on the tour and that he's not the only one claiming these remarks were made.)
Whether or not anything incorrect was said, I am a firm believer in the rule of bringing up a problem (actual or invented) to the parties concerned before taking it to the university community as a whole. He left us a bit defenseless and I think it would be a much stronger article if he hadn't come across as so one-sided. If Daniel Watts would like to be anything other than an opinion columnist, he should realize that there are two sides to every story. So again, it would have been nice to note in the article that we are addressing the problem, if such a problem exists, had he mentioned it to us.
It's interesting to me personally, that Daniel Watts has applied for a tour guide job, which is a fact that he probably thinks of as an attempt to remodel our program--now that he has shown it's alleged problems, but I can't help to think of him as anything other than a disgruntled rejected applicant, and if in fact these allegations do turn out to be false, I think we made the right decision in not allowing him to become a part of the tour guide program.
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So there. The day after I was so up-in-arms about this whole issue, I kind of lost interest in the whole thing. But it was nice to have a cause for about fifteen minutes.