We’re now just over halfway into April, and the weather has become quite warm, with some days topping out at over 25℃, the Japanese Meteorological Agency’s definition of summer.
Despite the lovely weather we’ve been experiencing for several days, I was worried about getting even a single post out this month. Work is busy, plus I am going to enter a karate competition at the end of the month, so wildlife has taken a back seat. Enter the “stumble upon” moment to save the day.
I arrived at work on the 16th, the first day of the official lesson timetable, to hear some squabbling. Through a gap in the bushes, I saw a crow with some kind of fibers in its beak, probably for building a nest. As I rounded the bushes, I realized it was, in fact, a pair of jungle crows (currently designated as the large-billed crow, Corvus macrorhynchos japonensis) raiding the bristles from a broom that had been left outside. Since neither crow immediately fled, I was able to pull out my phone and take a video.
I have a soft spot for crows. They are the “action stars” of the suburban avians. I sometimes see them defeat human’s attempts to stop them from raiding garbage disposal sites, and it brings a smile to my lips. Maybe it’s a combination of their problem-solving skill and attitude.
“You fools! Your puny yellow nets are no match for our superior intelligence and cunning!”
Plus, they are not evil, they are just wild animals trying to survive.
Hopefully, I will get a second post done this month.
Spring proper is finally here. Chilly and even cold weather continued into late March, and the official announcement of the cherry trees blossoming was made on the 29th – considerably later than usual. The 29th started with strong winds and heavy rains that didn’t clear up until early afternoon, and then suddenly the temperature rose.
Saturday the 30th brought temperatures topping 24℃, and today will be even warmer – the highest March temperature on record.
I was convinced that I wouldn’t get a second post out this month – the frequent rains and unusually cool weather wasn’t condusive to wildlife being out and about, and even less conducive to me being outside to encounter it.
Then yesterday I stepped outside and almost stepped on today’s star. I saw it lying near the entrance and at first thought it was the remains of a gecko – that camoflauge pattern was doing an effective job – when I realized that it was alive. I collected it in a plastic case to photograph and show the kids.
I had wanted to post about Schlegel’s Japanese gecko for a while now, but had not been able to get any even passable photos. This time I could guarentee at least one decent photo…
Gekko japonicus would seemingly imply that this gecko is endemic, or at least native to Japan. Its official Japanese name Nihon yamori, would do likewise. However, it is widely accepted that these geckos originate in China and were brought to Japan no later than 1000 years ago, with genome research conducted by Tohoku University suggesting an arrival as early as 3000 years ago. Introductions were almost certainly unintentional, as the gecko’s spread has closely followed that of humans.
These geckos are commonly called simply “yamori” in Japanese. While this is most commonly rendered in katakana in modern times, it was originally rendered 守宮 (probably from Chinese sources – apparently geckos were roasted and used as medicine for imperial family members in ancient China), while other renderings include 家守 or 屋守, both loosely meaning “house protector”. It seems that even in early times people recognised the gecko as a benefical animal for feeding on insects.
Japanese geckos are typically 10-14 cm long, grey or brown in colour, with dark patterns. Their range is from northern Honshu to Shikoku and Kyushu, as well as Tsushima, in addition to their native range in China and the Korean peninsula. Their range within Japan overlaps with the endemic Tawa gecko (Shikoku and the area surrounding the inland sea) and the endemic Yakushima gecko (Kyushu and the southern islands), and interbreeding has been reported.
Predators include cats, snakes, and birds. Individuals may also fall prey to insects such as praying mantises, or centipedes. These geckos can drop their tails in extreme situations. While the tail will regrow, loss of the tail also means a huge loss of body fat which the geckos need to survive periods without eating.
Japanese geckos lay eggs, typically in pairs, between May and September. They are reported as living for up to ten years.
I hope to see more of these through spring and summer.
March started off cold and wet, and it was well into the second week of the month before things picked up.
March is an extremely busy month for me, with the academic year winding down, I am often tasked with helping grade student performance in speaking tests or presentations, and then with devising games and activities to fill in a couple of lessons after the final assessments are in. This is in addition to preparation for the third-year students’ send off and graduation, plus messages for teachers who are being moved or retiring. Plush cleaning up.
At least I am not changing schools, which means I have been spared all that packing up and moving.
At any rate, once the weather improved I was hit with a feeling of dread: the month was almost halfway through and I still had no idea what to write a post about.
That all changed one evening. I arrived home after school to find that someone (i.e. SWMBO) had suddenly decided to trim back the persimmon and mandarin trees. Why now? I did them back in December, and if she had any dissatisfaction with what I had done, she should have said so.
However, it turns out that we had once again been “visited” by a civet during the night, who had left its “calling card” on the roof. The sudden trimming had been to prevent civets from accessing the roof.
One concern I had when I saw the cuttings from the mandarin tree was the fate of a praying mantis ootheca that I had found in the early winter. It had been too high up to photograph, and so never made it into this blog. Luckily, she appeared to have found it, and, recognising what it was, put the branch it was attached to aside.
I suspected that the ootheca belonged to the giant Asian mantis (Hierodula patellifera), having found what appeared to be a large female last autumn. An internet search suggests my supposition is correct – the shape and pattern is a key factor in identifiying this species’ oothecas.
As with last time I “rescued” an ootheca, I have put this in a plastic case outside and expect it to hatch in about six weeks. (See here and here)
I hope I can give you some good news in a few weeks.
As February draws to a close – acutally, the warmest February on record, with several days that were actually warm during the mid-afternoon, culminating in the 20th topping 22℃. The weather crashed in time for the Emperor’s Birthday long weekend, with the 23rd bringing sleet, short-lived snow, rain, and fridge-temperature maximums. We also had to deal with gale-force northerly winds – and the associated dust storms – on a regular basis.
This post came out of a combination of curiosity, acting on a whim, and a certain element of luck.
In the beginning…
There is a certain landmark I have had to pass over, or close by, on a regular basis during my time at my job. It is a bridge by the name of Gongenbashi West. The name had an auspicious ring in my ears, but the bridge itself was nothing remarkable, just a standard road bridge across the Furo River.
One afternoon, my normal route home from work was closed due to roadwork, so I opted for a different road. It turned out that this one was part of the old Kamakura Kaido, and it led to Gongenbashi, the (location-wise) “original” bridge. There I found three very old-looking stone statues and a stone marker, but no information about them. I relegated the collective to my long list of random things to look into at a later date.
I don’t remember the exact details, but just recently, everything fell together.
Gongen (権現) can mean incarnation and is often used in the Buddhist-Shinto syncretic religion to describe a Buddha or Bodhisattva who has chosen to appear as a native deity/spirit.
As for the name Gongenbashi, it is said that there used to be a huge zelkova tree near the banks of the Furo River. People who sat on its exposed roots to rest found that their legs and lower back would be healed or refreshed. In modern Hanno, there is a temple, the Tenryuji – unusual because it also has the torii gates of a Shinto shrine – dedicated to one Nenogongen, who is said to be the deified incarnation of a priest who vowed to heal the legs and lower backs of those who prayed, in order that they not suffer as he had.
The temple has since become a hot spot for people seeking health and healing in their legs, and is famous for a pair of giant sandals (weighing in at two tonnes) and iron clogs near the entrance.
(It turns out that Ian and I had visited this very same temple one day in September 2020. Unfortunately, it had been a very wet day, and we didn’t get any pictures of the temple)
Some sources say that the Nenogengon in Sayama is named for the one at Tenryuji. There is, of course, no agreement, with some sources suggesting the Gongen in Sayama to be a different entity. Whatever the origin may be, the Gongen is represented by a simple stone stupa.
There still wasn’t enough sun left after finishing work to be guarenteed even reasonable photos, and the mornings were still too cold to warrent leaving early to try to get photos before work. However, the first day of the end of term tests, despite being very cold and windy, seemed a good prospect. I took a couple of hours paid leave and, well, left.
My first stop, however, was not Gongenbashi. In my research, I had learned of a road marker a couple of kilometres away from work that fitted into the theme of this post.
The Oyamamichi Road marker was errected in 1793. Its orginal purpose was, believe it or not, to mark the road to Oyama, a centre of a syncretic mix of Tendai Buddhism and Shinto. However, it also marks the route to the old Hanno village (now part of the city of Hanno) and the affore-mentioned Nenogongen.
Advance warning: conditions were glaringly bright, so a lot of detail could not be captured, especially on my phone camera.
From there it was a ride back past my work place to the Gongen. The Gongen stupa shares its location with three statues. It is not clear to me if, and to what extent, any of these stones have been shifted from their original locations.
The Gongen stupa is engraved with the characters 子大権現, which is different from the 子ノ権現 in Hanno. Again, whether this indicates that the two are not the same is unclear to me.
But my trip didn’t end there. I had read about another pair of statues a few hundred metres away.
Regular readers of this blog should be familiar with Koshin statues and pillars.
The statue of Benzaiten is significant because she is the oldest Benzaiten out of the twelve known in Sayama. Benzaiten is known to control water, and the statue was probably placed here to protect crops from damage due to flooding.
The pedestal marks roads to Tokorozawa, Hanno and Ome (although Ome is written in ateji as 大目)
I really should go up to Tenryuji again and get some photos. In the meantime, I need to pay more attention to local statues and markers.
The 45th anniversary of the formation of the Classical Martial Arts Association was celebrated with the 47th annual classical martial arts demonstration on February 4th.
I had wanted to go to one of these for years, but was never able to, until this year. The head of the Traditional Okinawa Goju Ryu Karate Federation, Morio Higaonna Sensei, 10th dan, is also a long-standing member of the Japan Classical Martial Arts Association (albeit under the name Goju Ryu Bujutsu) performed at the demonstration this year, and via my teacher’s teacher, I was able to get a ticket.
Also, through the auspices of Terauchi Sensei (my teacher’s teacher), we were given the opportunity (order?) to go to the preparation area and meet up with the Okinawan delegation. I merely kneeled quietly off to the side – I’m a nobody in our organisation – and tried to recognise as many ryuha as I could. (“See those guys over there with the tomoe mark on their uniform? They are an Okinawan kobudo group.” ”Ah, there’s Daito Ryu Aikijujutsu.”
Thirty-five member organisations were invited to demonstrate. These included some of the oldest and most prestigious classical martial arts in Japan.
Some of the jujutsu demonstrations contained defence against a knife/dagger that I immediately recognised from my aikido practice, while other methods seemed totally alien.
One interesting aspect was the existance of ryuha who are currently headed by descendents of their founders – Ogasawara Ryu and Sekiguchi Ryu are examples of these.
I realised that filming would not only drain the battery, it would distract me from the demonstration itself, so I limited myself. I took considerably more footage on my phone, but the quality is too poor to put up here.
It was about half way through the day that I got a message - Higaonna Sensei and his demonstration team would be returning to Naha. While I would have loved to have stayed to see the rest, I was there as a member of Higaonna Sensei’s organisation, and to not pay the appropriate respects would have been very poor behaviour. We saw him off, then helped escort Terauchi Sensei to his home station.
There may be other opportunities to see similar events, and I hope to do so.
So, in the interests of survival, they trained themselves to be agreeing machines instead of thinking machines.
Breakfast of Champions
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
Hi blog.
This is a post I didn’t expect to make.
Warning: It’s going to be somewhat short and angry.
January 26th, 2024
For over 18 years I have been employed by a municipal board of education, and for that entire time I have eaten the lunches provided by the city. These are low-cost lunches prepared for schools, and it is generally accepted that every student will eat these. (Special items are substituted for students with allergies) The only real exception are students who don’t eat certain items for religious reasons, but I personally have not had any students that this has applied to at any of the schools I have worked at.
I like the general idea of the school lunch for several reasons. Firstly, it is the great equaliser; the kid from the richest family and the kid from the poorest family eat exactly the same thing; the kid with a three-star chef parent and the kid whose parent can burn water have the same meal. Secondly, the kids have to serve the food; typically; one group will be responsible for serving for that week, although daily rotations are also possible. This helps teach kids time management and responsibility. Finally, the food is nutritious – apart from the occasional tiny dessert item, there is almost nothing in the way of unhealthy.
Of course, with rising costs and a limited budget, it can be difficult to serve food that tastes good on a daily basis. I have a secret stash of spices to add to some dishes which would otherwise be bland – one advantage of eating in the staffroom as opposed to a classroom.
There have been a few less than great lunches in my time, but for 18 years there have been only two items that I simply won’t eat – natto and shishamo.
Natto is fermented soybeans, and I describe it as having the texture of cold snot and the smell of old socks. The taste is somewhere in between. Although many Japanese people extol the virtues of natto, there is also a reasonably high number of people who don’t like it, and it hasn’t appeared at lunch for more than a decade – probably due to the number of people who didn’t eat it.
Shishamo is a small (I think tiny) fish stuffed with its own roe. Since I like neither the texture nor the taste of fish eggs, I “throw it back” whenever it appears – which, luckily, is maybe twice a year.
*I still remember a terrible week when school lunch included natto AND shishamo on the same day! And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, the same items appeared AGAIN the following Friday at elementary school!!
Anyway, you may be wondering about what could make me angry about lunch. Well, as of today, there is a third item I refuse to eat.
Whale meat.
I know that whale meat used to be a major school lunch item. Some of the older teachers remember it from their youth – consumption peaked during the 1950s and 1960s and continued in a diminished capacity for many years afterwards before essentially disappearing off the menu. But its sudden appearance at lunch in 2024 was most unwelcome for me (as well as several Japanese staff members)
I had been engaged in an internal struggle all week from the moment I found out about the whale meat on the Monday. Not eating it would not bring the whale back. However, I was not willing to do anything that would be interpreted as a “holier than thou” attitude.
I took a tiny bite, to see if it matched my memory of the previous occasion I had tasted whale meat. I recall at that time something reminiscent of rancid butter. This time, being deep fried, it tasted like the oil it was fried in, only less appetising. But I decided that it would be better for me to simply dump it into the can of leftovers, which are processed into fertilizer. I hope that if enough students decided not to eat it, it will never make an appearance on the lunch menu ever again.
Why whale all of a sudden? I have no solid reasons, only conjecture. It may have been “donated”. We once received sea bream that for couldn’t be sold, and the fish mongers decided that giving it to the school lunch centre was better than wasting it. A similar situation occured in Osaka with whale meat, too.
It has been too long between posts, but I just haven’t had any encounters with nature worth writing about.
Writing about the earthquakes and tsunami that struck the Noto Peninsula seems both depressing and in poor taste, and coverage should be left to those in a better position to write about it, rather than me just repeating second- or third-hand reports. Suffice to say that the situation is ongoing – thousands of people are living in evacuation shelters, thousands of homes are without water, rain and snow have increased the risk of landslides and other secondary disasters, and rescue and relief efforts are being hampered by the weather in addition to frequent aftershocks.
What I find particularly painful about the whole situation is the local media coverage. A weekend morning TV program might have a segment consisting of vapid interviews with sports stars about trivial topics right before a whiplash-inducing on-the-scene interview with someone picking belongings from the ruins of his house, where his family died under the rubble. Then a commercial break and it’s back to sports.
My heart goes out to the people affected from the disaster.
Anyway, this post is going to take an unusual turn in that I shall be offering some (probably very random) thoughts on the movie Godzilla Minus One. This was my first visit to the cinema since the very disappointing Jurassic World Dominion.
I’m not a huge Godzilla fan. I have seen a few of the less-silly movies, including the 1954 original (although that would have been no later than 1995) but I will say this outing tops them all. Minus One is a Godzilla movie with the most compelling human drama element contained within it – or maybe it’s actually a human drama containing a compelling monster movie.
Mat and I went to a late showing in Tachikawa. I had found information on the internet saying that this particular cinema would be screening the English subtitled version. My spoken Japanese isn’t bad, but I typically miss some of the finer details or nuances in dialogue even on TV programs, and I didn’t want to be left behind just because I couldn’t understand a key sentence.
As it turned out, the cinema didn’t show the subtitled version. However, to my surprise, I found myself following much better than I anticipated. As Mat, who has actually worked on subtitles and translation in Japanese movies pointed out, sometimes who write the subtitles also miss the subtleties anyway.
(Mostly) Spoiler-free thoughts
The main cast all turn in solid performances. They are believable as people, and the characters are relatable ones that the audience can get invested in. This is perhaps where Minus One is the superior film in terms of pure story telling – here we have a redemption arc that is set into motion even before the titular monster makes an appearance. The original Godzilla‘s characters, I feel, were further removed from the everyday and everyman (and everywoman) characters of Minus One. Minus One is (mostly) free from the cliche of the scientist and the silver bullet they create to defeat the threat. No “oxygen destroyer” in this movie. Instead, we are treated to potential solutions offered by engineers who are on the ground (or in the boat) when Godzilla appears. Minus One also has the advantage of not being weighed down with political messaging like Shin Godzilla was.
Minus One also has the advantage of modern film-making techniques. Gone are the men in rubber suits trampling miniatures. The effects in Minus One take the viewing into the action, and the consequences of a giant reptile stomping through Ginza – figuratively and literally – are seen up close. (Even if the crowds are mostly proud graduates of the Prometheus School of Running Away from Things)
The effects are very well done, especially considering the budget, which is estimated to be a mere fraction of the marketing budget of many recent Hollywood productions.
Less Spoiler-free thoughts (You’ve been warned…)
To be perfectly honest, I thought the version of the monster we are introduced to initially is more interesting than the one created by nuclear testing. By being on a much smaller scale, it can interact with humans in a way more meaningful than just crushing them underfoot like insects.
Also, the nature of the beast is never explored. Where does it live? While it certainly is capable of swimming, it seems much more suited to living on land. What does something that size feed on? Why does it attack ships? What makes it want to travel from Bikini Atoll to Tokyo?
The effective sidelining of the rest of the world is explained in-universe as the U.S.A. being unable to use its military for fear of provoking war with the Soviet Union. While this is plausible, it doesn’t explain the complete lack of visible occupation forces. (American soldiers are typical background characters in Japanese movies and TV set in the early post-war period)
While the narrative is generally tight, there were a couple of things that seemed to happen because the plot needed them to, like the monster following the Shikishima’s plane back into the sea. Ironically, the primary reason Shikishima suggests that they needed a plane in the first place is so that he can lure the monster out to sea. (How does he know that will work?)
On the subject of the plane, I wonder if the Shinden’s appearance was supposed to also be a homage to the Super X, Super X2, and Super X3 of Godzilla movies of the late 1980s and the 1990s.
The apparent death of a major character seemed like a very bold and unexpected twist in the story.
My major criticism is as the film heads toward its climax. The monster appears to be standing “waist deep” in Sagami Bay but is revealed to be in waters over 1500 metres deep. Maybe he is treading water?
Final thoughts
Is Godzilla Minus One a perfect movie? Of course not. In addition to a couple of plot conveniences, there are one or two pacing issues, and the movie sagged a little in the middle.
Is it a good movie? Absolutely. The main characters are grounded and believable; no-one is free of flaws, and there are no super-humans to be seen.
Do you like monster flicks? Go and see this.
Are you not into monster flicks? Go and see it anyway!
Just a quick post to wish you all the very best for 2024.
As you may or may not be aware, one tradition here for the New Year celebrations is the sending of greeting cards to relatives, friends, co-workers, and even clients. Posting these cards on Christmas day is almost a guarantee that they will be delivered on January 1st. (I feel sorry for the postal workers and those employed in retail who find themselves working on what is the most important holiday of the year)
Common designs for such cards include ornaments and decorations associated with New Year, and/or pictures of Mt. Fuji – apparently Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu declared it a fortunate symbol, and it has stuck. But possibly the most popular theme is the Chinese zodiac animal for that year.
Last year, I made two designs for the year of the rabbit/hare.
Well, this year, I decided to keep things simple, and made only a single design. I also decided to go a little further afield to find a dragon…
I had toyed with the concept of using a bearded dragon, or maybe komodo dragon – they are “dragons” after all – but when looking for royalty-free illustrations, I found them somewhat lacking. However, I hit the jackpot when I looked at seadragon art. This 190-year-old picture was not only public domain, but it also encapsulated the concept I was looking for. The illustration needs the label simply because seadragons are easily confused with their close relatives, the seahorses.
Surprisingly, sea horses are also fairly popular designs for dragon years. This is to do with the Japanese name – tatsunootoshigo (竜の落とし子). The etymology is fairly straightforward – tatsu is a name for dragon in Japanese and the one used specifically for the Chinese zodiac, although that one is typically written as 辰 as opposed to 竜 or the more classical 龍. Otoshigo doesn’t translate well into English – one translation I found was “nobleman’s illegitimate child”, although the exact meaning is a child born to a woman of inappropriate social standing in relation to the father.
At any rate, seahorses are said to look like little Japanese dragons. As it turns out, the stamp mark on the postcards I bought features a pair of seahorses!
Anyway, a very happy and safe 2024 to you and yours.
As I was riding home tonight, I was feeling a bit down. Almost half of the month has passed, and I hadn’t the faintest idea what to blog about. With the solstice still to come, which means it is still almost dark by five in the afternoon and it is still dark in the morning until after six, the chances of me encountering something to write about seemed slim.
Social media to the rescue!
One of a handful of YouTube channels I subscribe to, Ben G Thomas, in their weekly “Seven Days of Science” video, talked about a new mosasaur from Japan being named.
I immediately looked through several news items on the web. I rejected some for being too heavy on the hyperbole (such as calling the animals “monsters”)
or playing up on the literal translation of the Japanese common name; a number felt the need to bring the names of a certain popular dinosaur, starting with “T” and ending in “rex” – which didn’t live in the same region as the mosasaur – into their reports; and some aritlces were merely copies of others. I have chosen the Asahi Shimbun article here, as I felt it gave the most level and accessible coverage.
New mosasaur species from the ‘kingdom of fossils’ identified
By TATSUYA SHIMOJI/ Staff Writer
December 14, 2023 at 17:23 JST
An image of the reconstructed “Wakayama Soryu” (the Wakayama blue dragon) (Provided by the Wakayama Prefectural Museum of Natural History)
KAINAN, Wakayama Prefecture–A mosasaur fossil found in the mountains in the prefecture almost two decades ago has been determined to be a new genus and species that lived more than 70 million years ago in the sea, a research team announced on Dec. 13.
Its scientific name Megapterygius Wakayamaensis means large wing from Wakayama Prefecture, referring to the fossil’s distinctive flippers that are larger than its head and its discovery in the prefecture.
“It would not be an exaggeration to say that this discovery has made Wakayama Prefecture a kingdom of fossils,” said Masaaki Ohara, 50, who is working at the Wakayama Prefectural Museum of Natural History and was involved in the fossil excavation and cleaning.
“We would like to organize an exhibition in the next fiscal year or later,” he added.
The research team, including the Wakayama Prefectural Museum of Natural History, announced the Japanese name of the new species as “Wakayama Soryu” (the Wakayama blue dragon) at a news conference.
The findings were published in the British paleontological journal, the Journal of Systematic Palaeontology.
Mosasaurs are marine reptiles akin to lizards and snakes rather than dinosaurs.
They are believed to have appeared about 98 million years ago and to have swum by moving their tail fins from side to side.
The new species appears to have lived roughly 72 million years ago.
SERENDIPITOUS DISCOVERY
The fossil was discovered in Mount Toyajosan in Aridagawa, Wakayama Prefecture, in 2006 by Akihiro Misaki, who hails from Arida in the prefecture.
Misaki was a graduate student at Kyoto University at the time. He said he stumbled upon the fossil while searching for ammonite fossils for his doctoral thesis.
“I have been researching fossils in the mountains since I was in sixth grade in elementary school,” he said. “I never thought I would find such an incredible fossil.”
Misaki, now 44, works as a curator at the Kitakyushu Museum of Natural History and Human History in Fukuoka Prefecture.
The front and rear flippers are larger than the skull, suggesting that the new species swam using its leg fins, similar to a sea turtle or humpback whale.
The shape of the spine also indicates that the species may have had a dolphin-like dorsal fin, a first for mosasaurs.
Since 2010, the Wakayama Prefectural Museum of Natural History and other entities have been excavating fossils pertaining to the mosasaur. They found about 65 percent of the whole-body skeleton, from head to tail.
“Since about 65 percent of the full-body skeleton has been found, we were able to hypothesize a different swimming method than previous theories,” said Takuya Konishi, 45, an associate professor of education at the University of Cincinnati, who led the research team.
“This discovery may attract researchers from all over the world to Wakayama Prefecture,” he added.
Article ends.
This is indeed quite exciting, since it expands on our understanding of mosasaurs by indicating physiology unknown until now.
I was also able to find a video from the Wakayama Prefectural Government showing part of the excavation of the fossils. Hopefully, the series will go on to cover the cleaning and reconstruction.
It is worth pointing out that the name soryu (滄竜), while literally translating to “blue dragon”, is also used as a general term for mosasaurs. Another name for mosasaurs is umitokage, but “sea lizard” doesn’t sound so cool…
* I find literal translations irksome at times – no-one would call a hippopotamus a “river horse” or refer to a porpoise as a “sea pig”. It’s fine for explaining etymology, but beyond that, it serves only to mystify or exoticise the subject.
Things are a bit chaotic right now. I was sure that I wouldn’t get a second post out in November, then inspiration struck, and I thought I might actually pull it off… but things beyond my control cropped up, so unless a miracle happened, you are reading this in December.
OK, every post has a backstory, so here it is:
Sometimes, just for laughs, I find bad art of “Australian” animals and post it on social media. By bad art, I mean that sometimes the artwork is merely atrocious…
… but more often, the animals depicted are not Australian.
In fact, illustrations containing pictures of kiwis are frightfully common.
Try this experiment for yourself: In any internet browser, do an image search for “Australian animals illustration” and count the number that contain kiwis.
Occasionally I come across some that are mis-labeled, like “duckbill” for platypus, or “spiny anteater” for echidna…
…but this time I was stumped.
Fox kuzu?!
I was at a loss. I had never heard that name before. Now, I am no expert on the fauna of my home country. I know “a bit” (now, that’s an Australianism if there ever was one), but was willing to accept that there might be possums with other common names, or perhaps regional names, or possibly a newer name taken from an indigenous language that I was unaware of.
But no. Internet searches kept sending me back to brushtail possums. It seemed the only hits for the search term “fox kuzu” were images, which then were either artwork or photos of brushtail possums.
Finally, I found one with text:
That was some questionable English. On a site with a country domain .ru. Russia.
Further exploration revealed some bizarre finds, some of which I will share with you.
So, my next trick was to go to Wikipedia entry for common brushtail possum, change the language to Russian, then use the “translate” function in Chrome to translate the Russian Wikipedia page to English.
Furthermore, some of the wording matched the Russian sites exactly.
Google Translate is my nemesis at the best of times. I admit that it has become less intolerably inaccurate in the last couple of years, but it is hopeless at matching animal names across languages. Sometimes AI stands for “artificial idiocy”.
So, the mystery of the “fox kuzu” was solved, I have a new target to openly mock on social media, and – perhaps as proof that miracles do happen – I was able to get a second blog post done in November.