As Japanese as Baseball and Umeboshi

I took this picture last week. I was shopping in Sasebo on a random Tuesday. It was the Vernal Equinox and we had a day off from work. It also happened to be the same day that Japan was playing Cuba in The World Baseball Classic. People were milling about the sports store in the arcade, watching bits of the game as they were on their way to wherever. Japan won the tournament (10 - 6) much to the pleasure of the nation. I heard from one of my teachers that she thought the nation was especially happy because they were disappointed to have walked away from the Torino Olympics with just one medal.

Baseball is HUGE in Japan. With all the press it receives and the fan support it has, I'm sure from now on, when I hear the phrase, "Baseball is the national past time," I'll be hard pressed to confirm which nation exactly it is that's being considered.

Sayonara Suckers!

I never really cry all that often in public, or actually ever really. I think the last time I wasn't able to control my tears in an open and embarrassing display was back in 2001 at the post office in Korhogo. All that nasty little woman, donned in her pange and head wrap, sitting behind her closed off little window, had to do was take one look at me and my papers and brush me aside. She told me to return the next morning. She didn't have time for me. She said this after I'd been waiting there for several hours, and before I was to hop on my bike and ride the next hour and a half to my village where I'd be for another two weeks before I could make it back to that small little window and the same nasty woman. Remembering the experience still infuriates me and even now I can taste the helplessness which stiffens the back of my tongue. I had a public freak-out which probably caught me more off guard than the handful of employees at the post office and the long line of customers waiting to be treated in the same manner. I was hysterical. That is the last and only time I can actually remember bawling in public, and having to wipe my snotty nose on my own sleeve.

It seems to me, however, that shedding tears in Japan is quite a common thing. At least shedding them during the heart-felt send-offs at the end of the teaching year is rather normal. And, seeing these displays through the eyes of a hardened observer, I have to say, it all seems kind of fake. (Get out the stake! I have a feeling I'll be burned alive for even insinuating such a thing! How could one be so cynical?)

Kids cry during graduation. Kids cry during the closing ceremony. Kids cry when they see their friends off at the port and kids cry when they themselves leave. They cry when they say goodbye to the teachers who've been transferred to new schools. And the teachers, in turn, cry right along with the students. But, it isn't so much the frequency of the ocular output that makes me question the sincerity, it's the uncanny timing and way it's carried out that makes me think there's something calculated to this generally genuine emotional display. It's as if everyone was sent a memo noting the appropriate time and place to cry and that's their only opportunity to do it. If it's done any other time, when the heaviness of life hits them, it most certainly wouldn't be allowed.

Maybe it's just that I cry in a very different way than the people I've seen cry in Japan. If I've got a reason to be upset, and do indeed cry, I sob. I'm inconsolable. My tears are uncontrollable. I gush. I leak. I stream. I'm a wreck. My nose runs, I hiccup at the loss of oxygen as there's way more stuff being purged from my body than being replaced. I'm utterly incapable of shedding a tear here and another solitary one there. I can't daintily dab my puffy, red eyes and move about my business as my students and fellow teachers do after soft, teary goodbyes are said. Their ability to do it confuses me, and I construe their small, tender displays as moments of cunning.

Looking at it from the other way around, I'm sure anyone witness to my wild abandoned sadness would think the same thing. How on earth could someone act in such a way? It's so strange, and different and just not done. It has to be fake.

Watching the various send-offs this week makes me think of my own sayonara coming up at the end of July. I wonder how many students will come to hold up a osewaninarimashita banner for me. I wonder how many of them will and run to the end of the port, waving hysterically, as my ferry pulls away from the dock. I wonder how many of them will dab discretely at their puffy, red eyes. But, most of all, I wonder if I'll cry. And if I do, will I cry in the crazy, frenzied way that I'm used to behind closed doors, or will I do it softly -- discretely as I've seen is appropriate in Japan?

Musical Classrooms

Now that the year has come to an end and the seniors have all left the island to dye their hair and start college or join the workforce, the remaining students get to "level up" as we say in Japanglish.

This includes moving the entire content of their classrooms to a new location. The lockers in the hallways are also cleared out and relocated.

Here we have the students moving their desks from the first floor to the third. The freshmen and seniors are located on the third floor of the school. The students in between are situated on the fourth floor.
In most Japanese schools, the students are divided by grade and by class. Each of the grades at Hokushou Nish High School historically have had two classes -- one focused on academic studies and the other focused on electronics and information technology.

The school year starting on April 10th will only provide one course for the incoming students. All of them will enroll in the academic course. This means that the school is downsizing and after two more years, it will no longer include the size of staff it presently has.

Sakura

Here are some early shots of the cherry blossoms. They should be in full, glorious swing within the week. More photos to follow.

50 Things

Usually I have aversions to "things about me" lists, but this one had some fun questions, so instead of being in bed at a reasonable hour on a Sunday night, I spent my time doing this.

(I took it off of Russ' ilog. Thanks Russ.)

1. How tall are you barefoot? 5'2" or 5'3". The verdict is still out.

2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No

3. Do you own a gun? No

5. Do you get nervous before meeting the parents? Yes. I always worry about making a good impression.

6. What do you think of hot dogs? I like them cooked so much they are wrinkly and kind of hard.

7. What's your favorite Christmas song? 12 Days of Christmas.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? I prefer coffee, but drink tea.

9. Do you do push-ups? No

11. Are you vegan? No

12. Do you like painkillers? Well, they do kill the pain. That can be a good thing. Like when I had
my wisdom teeth out. I really liked them then.

13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex? My smile.

14. Do you own a knife? I own butter and kitchen knives, but not one you would find in a leather case.

15. Do you have A.D.D.? No, I do not think so. Maybe dyslexia.

16. Middle Name? Cherrie. I did not know how to spell it until I was in high school.

17. Top 3 thoughts at this exact moment.
1. I should be in bed.
2. I will probably have to wake up and pee tonight because I just drank a lot of water.
3. I will be bored at work tomorrow.

18. Name the last 3 things you have bought.
1. Cat food
2. Milk
3. Shrimp

19. Name five drinks you regularly drink?
water, coffee, tea, beer, soy milk

20. What time did you wake up today? 09:50ish

21. Current hair? Straight perm. Gotta love it.

22. Current worry? Am I making a mistake staying in Japan for a third year?

23. Current hate? W. The "prez."

24. Favorite places to be? On a beach. In the mountains. Outside. Cozy rooms with good people.

25. Least favorite place to be? On an airplane.

26. Where would you like to go? France

27. Do you own slippers? Yes

28. Where do you think you'll be in 10 yrs? I want to be somewhere exciting and exotic, but I
think I will be disappointed in ten years.

29. Do you burn or tan? Burn, then tan.

30. Last thing you ate? Dumplings and guacamole. Not together, but during the same meal.

31. Would you be a pirate? Oh my gosh! Yes! (This question alone is the reason for me
completing this list.)

33. What songs do you sing in the shower: Whatever happens to be playing on my CD player
while I am in the shower.

34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? A creepy monster would sneak
into my room and steal the eyeballs out of my head.

35. What's in your pockets right now? Nothing

36. Last thing that made you laugh? Telling the “dog jaw” joke to my fellow teachers.

37. Best bed sheets you had as a child? Strawberry Shortcake

38. Worst injury you've ever had? Rollerblade fall. I fell twice on the same leg, in shorts. Never
rollerbladed again.

40. How many TVs do you have in your house? 1

41. Who is your loudest friend? I do not know.

42. Who is your most silent friend? I do not know that either.

43. Does someone have a crush on you? Not to my knowledge.

44. Do you wish on the stars? Yes I do.

45. What is your favorite book? "Jitterbug Perfume" by Tom Robbins

46. What is your favorite candy? Milky Ways

47. What song do/did you want played at your wedding? I have not thought about that.

48. What song do you want played at your funeral? Nor have I thought about that.

49. What were you doing 12AM last night? Watching a movie. "Sex and Lucia."

50. Do you love the pain a tattoo brings? No. Not really. I have tattoos, but I do not like the pain they bring. I hated the pain the one on my big toe brought. Never again.

Japanese Food

I've picked up quite a few habits here in Japan.

For example, I never used to get naked in public in the US. I do that now. I never used to bless my food before every meal. I do that now. I would only occasionally bring gifts to my friends if visiting their homes. I'm always with several gifts when I visit friends now.

And, I never used to take pictures of my food before pawing into it. I'm obsessed with capturing the culinary concoctions spread before me everywhere I go. Restaurants. Dinner parties. Even home-cooked chow. I think I started because Japanese food seemed so exotic and colorful when I arrived. It's a habit I just can't break. (Lots of my Japanese friends do it too!)

The way one displays their savory fare is important here as well. I'm sure I'd take fewer pictures if there wasn't a distinct artistic quality to the grub that goes past my smiling lips and into my grumbling belly.

Here is a collection of Japanese food. C'mon, tell me now.... This looks good.

This is the spread from The principal of Hokushou Nishi High School's retirement party. All of these dishes are for one guest. They skipped the chowamushi in this place setting as well. A lot of these dishes were slimy. I don't like slimy food. It probably tastes great, but I just can't get past the texture.

Cookies prepared by the "graduating" sixth graders. They invited me to their "Thank You" party for the elementary school teachers. I felt horrible when they had to explain to me that they spelled out "hello." I kept saying, "He. Who's he? Luv? What?" I'm not good with hyphenating. My brain just doesn't process it.

makizushi . This "rolled sushi" is made with lettuce, crab meat, egg, cucumber and topped off with mayo. It's oishi yo!

The fried food / icky stuff plate. Some of this is really, really good. Some of it turns my stomach. I adore deep fried shrimp. That's just plain tasty. And lettuce, ham and potato salad wraps! My taste buds rejoice. However, the raw horse meat and processed fish paste leave things to be desired.

It's a fuzzy picture, and I apologize for that, but every time I try to capture basashi (the raw horse meat) I can't seem to get a clear shot. It's as if someone, somewhere with super powers is creating some sort of doubt that this stuff actually exists, and that people eat it.

Sashimi. It's funny how I think raw fish is delicious, but I'm horrified at the prospect of raw horse. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose. This plate included raw squid, raw abalone and raw mackerel.

More sushi. Sorry for the fuzziness.

This was lunch at Ms. Oka's house on Saturday. These are udon noodles. She served a fish-based broth to us and we helped ourselves to the noodles from the center of the table which we dipped into the broth, and then ate. (Ms. Yoshihara grabbed my camera, of her own accord, and snapped this shot. See! I told you my Japanese friends do it too!)

Temakizushi. This is an outrageously orderly plate of food. Counterclockwise from the shrimp, we have an omelet, sprouts, cucumber and crab meat. The middle, of course is vinegared rice. Temakizushi is one of my favorite Japanese dishes. You basically put together your own sushi roll with the fixings you like. It's usually served at celebrations, but I make pathetic attempts at it at my house sometimes.

Mini chicken sandwiches and potato salad. Yup. This was a home-cooked meal. (Home as in my home.)

Lastly, some funky pasta and vegetable dishes made by some of the junior high school staff. I'm not sure if there are official names for these pleasing plates, but they were tasty. (I like broccoli with my spaghetti. Who doesn't?) My attempt at chili using Japanese ingredients and spices is off to the right.

Come on now. Be honest. Who's hungry?

A Whale Of A Story

News Flash:

A small whale was netted sometime this morning off the coast of Ojika by a seafaring motley crew of fishermen from Madara.

According to the uncorroborated reporting of Mr. Ikeshita, the high school's PE teacher, the whale caught was about 5 meters long. "mimashita! mimashita!" (I saw it! I saw it!) Mr. Ikeshita reported as if wanting to erase any doubt that it was, in fact, a whale, and it was, in fact, caught in the sea around Ojika.

When asked if he eats whale, Mr. Ikeshita said, "mochiron." (Of course.) He then promptly looked to his co-workers for support in this action. Ms. Higashikawa shook her hand fiercely in front of her face and denied any claims that she had ever eaten whale. "tabenai desu," (I don't eat whale.) she said. Mr. Kawabe plead the fifth, and refused to answer. "I will answer that question with silence," he said.

(Because Mr. Kawabe is an English teacher, his contribution to the interview is in no need of translation.)

Feeling sorry for the lack of support Mr. Ikeshita's fellow teachers showed him, this reporter added her own experience of eating whale to the interview.

"i-kai tabemashita," I said.
(I ate whale once.)

"doko de," Ms. Higashikawa asked.
(Where?)

"Fukuoka de. osushiyasan de. tabete mitakkata," I replied.
(In Fukuoka at a Sushi restaurant. I just wanted to try it.)

Reports that Ojika's local sushi restaurants will soon be carrying kujira sushi are yet unconfirmed.

Sham-ROCK!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I love holidays. I absolutely do. It doesn’t really matter what I’m celebrating, it’s just that the day is a little out of the ordinary. And, seeing as how I’m a sucker for anything sociological, (that should be a bumper sticker) I find that celebrating holidays is a great way to learn about different people and cultures. And, as long as I’m with other revelers, any “hip-hip-hooray” will put a smile on my face. My favorite fun holiday, of course, is Halloween and My favorite serious holiday is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, but then again I’m an American and was raised Lutheran. I think I’d really like Boxing Day if I were English or Canadian, and I’d truly dig Ramadan if I were Muslim. Don’t even get me started on the sweet Japanese holidays. I’d like to celebrate Yom Kippur again the way I did one year with one of my former student’s family. The kids had a scavenger hunt after dinner and before dinner they threw props at my co-worker while she read to them the story of Yom Kippur. That was a rockin’ good time.

I think another reason I love holidays so much is I like to reminisce about the holiday’s of year’s past. I feel accomplished, for whatever misguided reason, when I lean back in my comfy, rolling, staff room chair, stretch my arms out, tuck them behind my neck and day dream about what city I was in, and which year; who I was with and what we did on any given day of celebration.

Last year, on this day, I was in Osaka with my friend Amelia. We went to an “Irish” bar dressed in green, where we were awarded with shot-sized bottles of Baileys. We were promptly chatted up by two young men from the States who were traveling though Japan. We went joined them for karaoke, where I’d like to believe we sang, “Oh Danny Boy” although I don’t remember now. We stayed out until almost 5 in the morning. It was a great night.

I’m afraid next year, on March 17th, I won’t be able to giggle as such raucous memories seeing as how I’m stuck in the office on a hum-drum Japanese Friday. Or maybe I will. After all, it’s probably the only time I’ll ever get a chance to pinch my Japanese co-workers, and I’ve already got some of them running around clutching green pencil cases, or balancing green bottle tops on their heads.

So, happy St. Patrick’s Day! Happy day to those of you who donned your green, braided your hair and stuck a pipe in your corned beef and hash hole. (That sounds bad.)

And remember St. Paddy’s Day well known demand of, “Kiss me, I’m Irish!.” You may just be able to get smooches from that lucky lad or lass you’ve had your eye on. But, beware of the leprechaun’s ugly brother, Troll, on this day. They’re deceptive little creatures and are out for kisses today too. But, hey, if you’ve had enough green-tinted beer, you might not mind lip-locking your pipe-hole (Still doesn’t sound good.) with a knobby-kneed, warty old man who lives under a bridge.

Before and After

Ok. Here are some "before and after" shots from the most recent night out in Kamigoto. We were fooling around and I took some photos of people making a "normal face" and a "baka face". Who do you think has the best before and after shot?

Shin before

Shin afterLori before

Lori after
Genki before

Genki after

Andy before

Andy after

George before

George after

Vicky before

Vicky after

My vote:

1st place - Shin
2nd place - Andy
3rd place - George

Space Tunes

Gotta dig it.
You win the $ 64,000 question if you can guess correctly what I'm groovin' out to.

Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge

When was the last time you made a face? I mean, when was the last time you made a silly, stupid, ridiculous and obnoxious face that had no other purpose than to make someone laugh? I do it all the time, but then again, I work with kids. However, I've hit upon a gold mine of enjoyment. I've discovered the best way to make my fellow teachers titter and blush. I wink.

I happen to wink quite a lot, and in most places this action wouldn't necessarily cause fits of laughter and the pinkening of cheeks, but in Japan....

I have come to learn over my sojourn on this island nation that winks have quite a specific meaning. It means doki doki or in English, something more along the lines of hubba hubba! This non-verbal form of saying "Heeeey baby!" has piqued quite a lot of interest in the female staff. Winking in Japan is just not done. And, if it done, it's considered to be about the boldest form of expressing interest in another party, aside from "lover's chocolate" on Valentine's Day.

I can always get my co-workers to fluster while they stand hunched over the copy machine if I walk by and quickly squeeze my right or left eyelashes together and grin. (I haven't quite added the "point and shoot" gesture to my 70s sleazy ball antics for fear of spreading epidemic proportions of uncontrollable giggle fits.). Some of the ladies actually practice winking with me. They've taken up the cause and seem to be rather pleased with themselves when we have a smooth wink exchange. (A wink and run.) Some of them, however, look cumbersome and labored when trying to force their face into positions never allowed before for fear of sending a doki doki to the wrong person. And, then, some just flat out blink. (A hit and blink.)

Prime Minister Koizumi set out strident guidelines in wink/blink usage in the office in the government's twenty-year plan on The Use of Non-Verbal Communication (created under the 1998 Kyoto NVC Convention.) and I'm just happy that I'm in full compliance. And by that, I mean that I reserve my winks/blinks for the female staff only. It wasn't something that I did by consciously; it just kind of happened. I first realized this when Ms. Ichinose quizzed me on which staff members I'd actually feel comfortable winking at. It turns out I also feel the social pressures of keeping my hubba hubbas to myself, or only sharing them with the female staff in order to tease them a bit. I wouldn't want to send the wrong impression to the single male senseis, after all. Ms. Ichinose did tell me that she thought it'd be alright if I winked at one of the math teachers, Mr. Chigita. (He happens to be married with three children whom I teach at the elementary school.) apparently, he has a bit of a reputation for being a ladies man. I think I'll refrain.

Feeling the Urge to Celebrate?

White Day is just a little less than a week away. I'm holding my breath and hoping for a big diamond ring set in old world rubies and emralds! (Ok, not really.)

If you are, at this moment, scratching your head and muttering aloud that you really have no idea what I'm talking about, you can take a quick look at my little essay (that adjective will be funny once you take a look) on the Japanese customs of Valentine's Day and White Day from last year. It's under the March 2005 Archives and is my first entry titled, "Luv, Luv, Luv".

Basically, in Japan, women give to men on V-day, and so as not to feel dejected, (and so the big businesses of Consumerism can continue to rib the unsuspecting men and women of this island nation in the gut with it's large horns) White day was created. W-Day occurs on March 14th, one month after V-day. This is when men return the lavish gifts they received on V-day, and give to women.

Well, turns out there's a new holiday on March 14th in the US which share the same intrinsic principals of Japanese customs. However, in the US, men generally give to women on V-day and now, women shall give to men on this new holiday. (If they're not turned off on it's overall tastelessness.) I think this new holiday really speaks volumes of the differences between men in women in the good old US of A (and probably various other places around the world).

Check it out here:
(I warn you... this is for mature readers only!)

http://www.steakandbjday.com/

However you decide to celebrate, enjoy your March 14th. I think, however, I am going to reserve my merrymaking for September 19th -- Talk Like a Pirate Day.

http://www.talklikeapirate.com/

Sing Ho! for a Graduate

I've never sent the likes of it before. The staff room is in an uproar. Teachers are taking Super Bowl like victory laps around the desks. Even our principal crawled out from his dark and foreboding chamber on the first floor to heartily slap the men on the back and kiss the women on the cheeks. People are laughing without reservation!

It seems that a first has occurred on Ojika. All six of the graduating seniors who took their (apparently) very difficult university entrance exams have passed. (I guess this is the first time that all of the students who took the exams have passed.) Two of the girls whom I spoke with yesterday said they were off to the nether parts of Japan to study law and international economics, respectively. Wow.

The news just in reports that two more boys are off to study at Hiroshima University -- a big feat for little fish from the rural Gotos. And, one of our seniors has won a place at Kyushu University in Fukuoka. The most prestigious places of learning in this area of Japan.

I wish I could take even a little credit for their success, but I never taught any of them. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever even saw any of them. They were all too busy in extra-long study sessions to socialize with the weird ALT.

And all this time

I thought

it was just

a

regular

blanket.

Party Props

What could possibly make a Taco Party any better than the tacos themselves? I'll give you an answer. Costumes.

Some people embrace them.

Some people resist.

Some people fit in them so well, they should be allowed to take them home.

Spring

I saw the first true sign of spring today, and then I promptly killed it. The presence of the creepiest of all crawlies in my abode today has prompted me to tuck my mosquito netting around my fouton once again. As long as I know the palm-sized, eight-legged arachnids can't crawl across my face as I snooze, I can actually rest at ease (sort of).

Other signs of spring I saw today are as follows.

A hairy caterpillar.

A slimy lizard. Great camouflage.

And, blue sky.

We're Having Fun Now

I wish I could remember...

...what we were...

...laughing about.

Pet Rock's Long Lost Brother

And you thought all of the ingenious ideas had already been patented! I personally don't know how I've managed all of these years without my spherical moss.

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

This is the only activity that can raise my core body temperature and keep me warm during the cold winter months on Ojika. When will the wind stop blowing? When will spring ring the doorbell and have itself invited in? matte imasu....

I like SAKE!

Enough said.

Fifth Graders Don't Like Me

I was working for mere peanuts, doing a split shift, at the most expensive private school in the state of Colorado when I had my first experience with fifth-grade bitterness and play-ground revoking rage. I had done just that -- taken away two of my student's playground privileges for incomplete homework -- when I was exposed to my first lesson in just how vicious an 11 year old could be. My students returned from music class that day to find their names written on the board in the front of the room with that epic and (what they would have you believe) indelible chalk. Simultaneously, they changed from angelic creatures drenched in sparkles and sporting halos to demonic monsters, snarling, showing their bloody red gums and fangs. This was also the exact moment they set themselves to their task of note writing.

Now, I can understand being frustrated and needing to vent some rage. I know I've had plenty of moments in life that I have, in some facet or another, told a haughty authority figure to shove it. But, generally, I've done a pretty good job of staying calm and logging my complaints directly to that person. And on the rare occasion that I decide to rant and rave, I try to make sure I'm not within ear-shot of the subject of my crazy diatribe.

In all my life, I don't recall ever having hastily penned a note doused in profanity, only to toss it into the recycling bin where the person I was "dissing" had the soul responsibility of emptying the box. That my friends, is where fifth graders lack graceful elocution when they try to "stick it to the man."

I didn't cry until after I left the school and was sitting in my car in font of the YMCA where I spent my two hour break working out. However, the homeroom teacher told our group of 15 that I had left the school in tears, so as to teach more of a lesson -- I'll assume. (Not to make me feel like a wuss. "What, you can't handle an eleven year old calling you a bitch?" I'd like to state for the record that the tears I did shed were tears of being underpaid and unappreciated, which is generally much worse than any name that could possibly be pinned to your lapel.) This in turn, prompted the whole class to write me letters of apology and I actually received a few small tokens from both of the students who had been guilty of the actual crime.

Days passed, and my ego healed. And even now, one of the girls still sometimes emails me to see how old Ms. Carmin is doing in Japan. I hadn't thought about that day in a very long time and on the rare occasion that I did, I'd just chuckle about it and let my day move along. That is, up until Monday.

I met with my elementary school teachers on Monday to go over lesson plans for the following week. The fifth grade teacher, Takahashi-sensei, also delivered to my hot little hand a stack of letters written from her class to my friend's third grade class in Utah, USA, which we didn't get a chance to finish during our last lesson. On the worksheets, students only had to fill in the blanks on some basic English questions, but I had also left a space for students to add anything else they wanted to share. Many of them drew pleasant, chubby-cheeked animals and people waving "bye bye." But, there was one in particular that caught my eye. It looked like this....

For those of you who can read katakana, you'll notice that the name under the person being kicked in the side is "Dawn". For those of you who can't read katakana, I'm telling you now, that's "me" getting pummeled.

I don't know what it is, but fifth-graders seem not to like me. And, for whatever the reason, I just hate that. I mean, how awful do you have to be to get a kid to hate you? And, if a kid doesn't like me, shouldn't I at least get to do something that would give him a reason not to like me? Don't I get to trip him when he comes to the front of the room to do an English skit, or tell him he's always wrong, but make him keep guessing at an answer? Can't I make him cry in front of his friends?

I'm one of those obnoxious people who can't stand it when other people don't like them, even if they are pre-pubescent.

Afterthought: You know it occurred to me last night, that the katakana in this picture might be the written expression of the sound to hit/drop something. (My name, unfortunately, resembles that onomatopoeia.) I think I'll choose to believe this is just a picture of some random person getting it in the gut, opposed to me specifically.