That Time When Lauren Did Judo

It started when Yamada Sensei* told me over school lunch that our students would be learning judo during PE class.

“Lauren, during PE today, the students will be learning judo—“

“I WANT TO TRY THAT!” I say excitedly, not fully knowing what judo is, but always ready for a new activity.

“Oh really?” he replies, with a horrified smile on his face. “I thought maybe you’d… er… want to watch. We have a guest teacher today and—“

“Can I please try it?” I plead. I’m not really thinking about why I want to try judo, only that the quote, “you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take” is flashing through my mind. It’s inspiring, heartfelt, and, because I have an irrational fear of missing out on anything that happens in my life, it is all I need to convince me that I must try judo.

Yamada sensei laughs stiffly and makes eye contact with the other teacher at the lunch table. She smiles and shrugs.

“Well… I’ll see if we can find you a uniform that fits,” he says obligingly.

I am ecstatic. I try and high five the student sitting across from me but she is staring at her bowl of rice and doesn’t see my hand. I high five myself.

An hour later, I am standing in the school gymnasium amongst a crowd of Japanese middle school students. I am wearing a stiff, off-white judo uniform. The pants and belt are both a little snug on me, so I constantly suck in my stomach, hoping that it won’t come undone. It does.

I re-tie it, while trying not to look conspicuous. However, all the teachers have come to watch the students perform, and as I am the only giant foreigner woman in their midst, it’s quite probable that my uniform debacle did not go unnoticed.

The visiting teacher is a tall, stern man, who looks like he could’ve been a sergeant in any country’s army. He’s wearing the same sort of stiff judo uniform, only his belt is black and tied tightly. The jacket is open around his chest. I can see a mass of chest hair, and a withered, old nipple when he bends the right way.

He shouts commands. The students respond quickly, falling into a line of perfectly timed small stretches that I have never seen before.

I don’t understand what’s happening so I just try and mirror the instructor, while trying really hard not to make eye contact with his nipple.

Bending over feels awkward as I am certain my judo uniform will come untied at any moment, so I bend as little as possible. I wonder if I will get a cramp.

The instructor shouts something new and all the students get into three perfectly straight lines. I follow them. After explaining some things in unintelligible Japanese, the students get into a lunge position, then start somersaulting across the floor.

It is then that I realize I have made a terrible mistake. Whatever judo is, I want no part in it.

I look over at all the teachers standing in the corner and Yamada sensei gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up. My eyes are terrified saucers.

I befriend another terrified looking student who appears equally horrified at the choice of activity for the day. When it is our turn to launch ourselves into this terrible activity, we give each other a little “good luck” nod and then catapult our awkward bodies on to the mat in front of us.

As I collapse into a strangely positioned heap, the principal runs over to me, and grabs my arm. I think he has come to help me up, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps I will not have to do any more somersaults.

He does not help me. The principal slams my arm roughly into the ground, shouting Japanese words I’ve never heard before. He then raises his camera and takes a picture of me, as I stare up at him like a scolded puppy.

I think that if there is a hell, there will probably be judo there.

Then our visiting drill sergeant tells us to get into a circle, so we all get up off the floor and stand to attention.

“Thank god,” I think to myself, “now that we’re done with that crazy nonsense, we can start doing actual judo.”

I imagine judo to be some sort of punching and kicking martial art, where we do high jumps and spin on our heads. Or something with swords.

Spoiler alert: Judo is wrestling.

Within the next five minutes, the instructor was holding me by my sleeve and jacket front, yanking me over his shoulders like a sack of meat while explaining something to my students that was, once again, completely unintelligible to me.

From the placement of my body high above his head, I deduced that instructor was training students to lift their wrestling partner in order to throw them to the ground.

I felt like a frog that had signed up for a fun day of splashing around in the pond, only to find out that the pond was actually a pot of boiling water in a French kitchen.

My eyes were bulging out of their sockets in pure fear, and the students stared at me with a mixture of horror and pity.

When he finally launched me back onto the ground, I fell with a thud, while the students all paired together to practice their new judo skills. My eye was still twitching in fright.

My horrified somersault student friend from before was the only student left when I finally stood back up, so she was paired with me.

I think this new development made her even more horrified, considering that now she had to practice wrestling her crazy foreign teacher who doesn’t have any idea what’s happening.

She walked over to me, and we smiled awkwardly at each other for a moment, acknowledging the weirdness.

In English, I say, “I have literally no idea what is happening. Can you tell me what is happening?” I don’t know why I do this because I know that she won’t understand, but I am embarrassed and confused.

For some reason, speaking my native language comforts me, as if to remind me that I’m actually really smart if only someone would speak English to me.

She sort of tilts her head and cringes, so I apologize in Japanese, telling her that we should do our best.

She nods and smiles encouragingly at me.

Then, grabbing onto my jacket sleeve and lapel, she attempts to pull me over her shoulder and throw me on the ground.

Considering that I probably have about fifty pounds on this girl, I didn’t really think it was going to happen.

As I looked down at her tiny noodle arms limply yanking my jacket, I noticed that on one of her feet she also only had four toes.

To get my mind off the judo that was happening all around me, I thought about the significance of only having four toes.

I thought about what it must feel like to try and hoist a woman twice your size over your shoulder when, perhaps, without the extra fifth toe, your balance is slightly askew.

I thought things like judo must be difficult for her. Perhaps that’s why she was so horrified about somersaults.

The instructor, apparently noticing this poor girl having trouble, came over to help her out.

My soul had left my body at this point, so I didn’t really notice.

He lifted me up over his head again, to demonstrate that anyone can lift a foreigner if they just try hard enough. From my new aerial perspective, I get a great bird’s eye view of his weird, hairy nipple.

He then throws me onto the mat like a hunter throwing a prize buck carcass into the back of his station wagon.
Gently, but with enough force to confirm that it is, in fact, dead.

At this point, the fifth period bell rang. The students bowed to each other and walked off the gym mat, leaving me lying on the floor alone, considering whether or not it was worth it to ever get back up.

Yamada sensei runs over to me to report that it was time for a water break.

“The students have another period of judo practice after this,” he told me, “but if you’d like, you can return home now.”

“YES I THINK I’VE HAD ENOUGH,” I say, though I can’t be certain whether or not my voice is at a reasonable volume. I quickly pull myself up to go thank the instructor, though for what, I am not sure.

He turns to me with a sort of smug “you’re not good at judo” look in his eye. I bow to him, and begin the mandatory thank you spiel that I give to everyone I meet. “ARIGATO GOZAIMASHITA. YOROSHIKU ONEGAI--”

I stop mid-thank you as the instructor reaches to my belt and reties it for me, pulling it tight around my already sucked in belly. He says many Japanese words that I have never heard before. I feel strange.

He nods to me, then turns away. I pray to God that this act does not mean I will have to endure another period of judo.

I decide to just cut my losses and get out of there.

As I walk past all the students drinking their cold green tea, laughing and joking about the fun they had practicing their favorite sport, judo (ugh!), my somersault buddy shouts to me in Japanese.

“Lauren sensei! Are you finished?” she says.

“Yes,” I say, in sort of a forced way. “Time to go home now.”

“Well, you’re very good at judo! Let’s do it again sometime!”

She runs back to her friends. I stand there, feeling totally silly.

“Maybe judo isn’t such a bad sport after all,” I think to myself. “Maybe if I just pushed myself a little harder, I could be a judo master!”

Then I remember the weird, weird nipple. I scurry out of the gymnasium as fast as possible.



*Names have been changed because this story is awkward.

Winter Travels Pt. 5: Bali Belly and Other Woes

Spring is here! The weather is warming up, the sky is clear, my bike ride in the morning doesn't make my eyes water from the frigid wind flying into my face. Everything is coming up Lauren!

Yet, I've still left the last leg of my winter travels un-blogged. I was backpacking around Taiwan and Okinawa for the first six days of this trip, but the final ten days I actually spent in Indonesia. 

However, it's taken some time for me to want to write about this part of the excursion. Honestly, though it was a total blessing to experience Bali with Bridget and her sister, Philippa (who are wonderful people and a total blast!), this leg of the trip was a big pile of existential confusion and dramatic internal emotions for me. 

Being away from my town in Japan for so long made me reconsider wanting to be an Assistant Language Teacher. Prior to coming to Bali, I had thought I definitely wanted to stay in Kadogawa at least another year, possibly two more years.

 Then, for some reason, after a week of changed scenery, I sort of thought to myself, "Is this really who I am? What I want to do with my life? Why am I learning Japanese when everything in my past said that I should study art/acting/music/yada yada yada?"

It freaked me out a lot.

Though we had a ton of weird and interesting adventures in Bali (seeing The Hobbit in Kuta Beach/ spending New Years' Eve salsa dancing to a live Cuban band in Ubud/ swimming in our infinity pool at midnight under the palm trees/ drinking 'chakra soda' at this totally adorable organic hippie cafe in the middle of nowhere), so much of it was overshadowed by me doubting my life choices, and thinking about the future.

I was crippled by anxiety, reading as many Kindle self-help books as I could and trying to figure out what I was supposed to do.

It was helpful that my travel buddy, Bridget, was also sort of going through the same crisis. We're both fresh out of college and teaching in small towns, so we had a lot to talk about. By the end of the trip, she sort of helped me decide that I wouldn't stay in my town, and instead, would move onto a new opportunity. I was over it. 

I was sick of being away from California. I missed Mexican food and doing improv comedy. I had a severe case of diarrhea and a fever from the food I had eaten on my last day in Indonesia. I didn't want to travel anymore. I wanted to go home, spend time with my family, and kiss my dog on the nose. I had made a firm decision not to stay, and I was ready to say my goodbyes to Japan.

However, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as they say.

After returning to my life in Kadogawa, I changed my mind yet again.

My supervisor didn't ask me about whether or not I wanted to recontract for an entire month after I returned to Kadogawa. Within that time, I had a ton of great days at school with my students and teachers, and even more great experiences with my other ALT friends. I learned more Japanese, took up bouldering, started jogging every other day, and just generally began to enjoy my life situation more.

I think I had a lot of fear about not following my dreams of being an artist (whatever that means), and decided to move back to Los Angeles in a panic. I was afraid that what I was doing in Japan wasn't really what I should have been doing. 

I realized that in Japan, in this tiny fishing town, I'm learning so much about myself and about the world. I'm learning about what's important to me, and allowing myself the freedom to grow as a person. If I want to go back to LA eventually and study improv comedy or screenwriting or whatever it is I want to do, I can do that at any time. Now is the time to learn and breathe and discover myself outside the things I did as a sixteen year old. 

I'm only twenty two. I don't need to have it all figured out.

So for all those who were wondering about whether or not I'm staying in Japan, the answer is a resounding YES. No doubt about it. 

And I can thank Bali for that.

Winter Travels Pt. 4: A Very Taiwanese Christmas

Ah Christmas. That wonderful time of year when Western families come together, eating all sorts of delicious treats, wishing each other well, eating delicious treats, etc. etc.

Or, that would have been what Christmas was like for me if I was in the US.

After thinking long and hard about whether or not I should return to the states for Christmas, I eventually decided that I'd try out spending my holidays abroad this year. I figured I should see the world, and I had just arrived in Japan in August anyways, so why not? My family probably wasn't even missing me yet.

Still, skyping my family over a free hostel breakfast of lukewarm toast, overly sweet jam and bad coffee isn't exactly the Christmas miracle I thought traveling abroad would be.

My traveling buddies (who were from New Zealand and Ireland) had similar qualms about being away from their families on Christmas. Feeling pretty down in the dumps, we decided to treat ourselves to Melange Cafe, a highly recommended Taiwan favorite known for amazing waffles and fresh, fruity iced tea.

My Christmas breakfast, the strawberry waffle (complete with strawberry ice cream).

The deliciousness continued with fresh, creamy milk tea. The milk was so fatty it just sat on top of the tea until I stirred it in. Incredible!

Just for kicks, the gang and I decided to do a last minute Secret Santa gift exchange, and we all ran into a mall and purchased a little something for each other. Bridget found this amazing rabbit ring for me! Talk about good gift giving, huh?

After we had eaten until my pants stopped fitting correctly, we decided to head to Elephant Mountain, a really cool sightseeing spot overlooking the city. The hike gave us a little time to digest, which was necessary after our decadent breakfast feast.

Finally, we finished our evening with Korean barbecue and Coldstone ice cream for dessert. I supposed it wasn't exactly Taiwanese fare, but hey, what's more Christmas-y than Korean barbecue! Am I right?

Not exactly a Christmas duck, but it'll do.

(In other news...)
My last post of the Winter Travel series will be on New Years and Other Adventures in Bali. Sorry for the lack of updates lately. As usual, I've been sort of busy and my computer is almost non-functioning! Gotta get me a new laptop.

However, I have a lot to write about. So much has happened since January, and I'll be letting you know what I've been up to ASAP. In fact, my third years at junior high school and sixth years at elementary school just graduated! Big changes happening around here.

I've also been thinking about revamping the blog with a new look and a new name since I started this in 2012, and I feel like it's about time. Let me know if you have any suggestions!

Thanks for reading and check back again soon!

Winter Travels Pt. 3: Jiufen Fun

Hey folks! Long time, no posts! As usual, the wintertime fatigue has caught up to me (as it always seems to during this time of year) and honestly I've just been a bit lazy lately. Well, no more! Here's another set of photos from our Taiwan adventure.

After our Maokong trip (on a gondola floating through the sky over the city to a tiny tea town), I assumed we had seen the coolest parts of Taiwan and that we would spend the rest of our trip being hopelessly disappointed. I thought if we'd already done ALL THAT in just one day, what else could Taipei possibly have to offer?

Apparently, so much more. In fact, so much more that I needed to make three separate blog posts, just so I could include all my favorite photos. You're welcome!

The next day we made our way to Jiufen, a small mining town in the mountains about an hour outside of Taipei by bus. Sure, it sounds quaint and mystical, however, it's known as a huge tourist attraction. In fact, take a good hard look at these photos. If you're familiar with Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away, you may have seen Jiufen before. According to the internet and all the folks I chatted with on the bus, apparently, Jiufen's downtown area was the inspiration for the spirit town in the film.

I felt a little bit like I was Chihiro, even if the streets were incredibly crowded with other tourists (who also probably felt like they were in the film).

On the bus to Jiufen, we met some new friends, Mu and Meng, who were from Taiwan and Mainland China respectively. They had both studied abroad in Finland for years (so their english was flawless), and they offered to be our unofficial tour guides around town.

Our first stop was this tiny stand that sells a traditional Taiwanese dessert. Balls of gnocchi-like sweet potato, black sesame and matcha in a ginger soup with adzuki beans mixed in kept our hands warm in the slightly cold winter air.

Next we took a trip to the famous Jiufen (spelled Jioufen below) Teahouse. This was absolutely my favorite spot of the whole trip. It felt like walking into a Beauty and the Beast fairytale, but I got to drink tea and look out over an amazing mountain view.

After finishing up in Jiufen, Meng and Mu told us about this amazing night market in Keelung, another hour bus ride away. Since we had no plans for the evening (and we were always up for an adventure), we decided to accompany them and see another city in Taiwan.

Meng trying "Frog Eggs," a drink that actually has nothing to do with frogs or eggs. Taiwan has incredible food. It's cheap and flavourful, and super fun to try as many dishes as you can fit into your stomach!

I had some shu mai (pictured below) which reminded me of the ones I would eat back when I was studying in Hong Kong.

Bien swo was another dish recommended to us by Mu. It was sort of a mochi noodle-y situation. I have no idea what was in it, but LET ME TELL YOU, it was great. I feel like when you're traveling it's always best to just order what the locals are getting, and don't ask too many questions.

Finally, we were all sleepy and full from our day of eating and exploring. Mu and Meng said goodbye at the train station, but I was just so glad to have been able to get to know such interesting people. They were excellent company, and Jiufen wasn't half bad either.

Check out the next installment to see what the gang and I did for Christmas in Taiwan!