Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thankful for the Basterds
Hey, it's Thanksgiving! Oh hey, I'm in Japan, so Thanksgiving doesn't mean dick! Indeed, this will be my first Thanksgiving in four years without any familial contact. Last year I was in New York on this holiday and the year before that my parents and sister were in town for my wedding. Frankly, even four years ago I was at Kansai Gaidai surrounded by similarly homesick Americans. I guess I can take some comfort in that I'm in the process of building my own family now, so someday in the future we can have our own Thanksgiving if we feel like it.
I keep thinking about Inglorious Basterds and how terrific it was. The more I revisit it in my mind, the more things I find to love about it. Conversely, I find the elements that bugged me about the movie becoming less significant. This is the opposite of how my thought process usually works. Typically, when I reflect on a film, video game or whatever, I latch onto the flaws and nitpick them while telling myself "I can only do this because the rest of it was so good." With Inglorious Basterds I'm actually downplaying elements that irritated me when I first watched it.
For example, I was not a fan of Eli Roth as Donny, "the Bear Jew." I hold no personal animosity towards the man (I liked Cabin Fever and found Hostel more interesting than people give it credit for) but his portrayal of the supposedly-intimidating bat-wielding Nazi killer did not work for me. There's an incredible set-up for the character where high-ranking Nazis (including Adolf Hitler!) discuss how horrible he is and how he might be a "golem" (boy do I regret not noting how they translated that word into Japanese), plus there's that long shot of the tunnel where you cannot see him but you hear the sound of his bat coming from the dark. But when he emerges, he's just a (somewhat) hairy guy in an undershirt. Not particularly bear-like, in my opinion.
However, as I think about the film again and again, I realize that the entire Basterds unit was a rather unassuming bunch of guys. They're not particularly bad-ass, they just kill Nazis in a purposely brutal fashion so that their enemies will spread rumors about their deeds. They're not The Dirty Dozen, they're just regular soldiers with a colorful modus operandi and Donny is perfect when viewed in that context. He's a loudmouth, a braggart; he carries a big stick but speaks loudly anyway. When he finds himself in a tight spot, such as sitting in a cinema full of Nazi brass, he looks genuinely terrified because he's in over his head.
(SPOILER ALERT)
...
...
In the end, their plan only succeeds due to the unexpected actions of others, namely Landa and Shosanna. Were it not for their "help," so to speak, Donny and the rest of the Basterds would have been killed, easily.
(end spoilers)
Even better than reconsidering what I didn't like about Inglorious Basterds is discovering new things that I did like. It occurred to me today that the movie made a direct appeal to me on a linguistic level. I have always had a strong sense of curiosity when it comes to foreign languages. The whole reason I live in Japan now is because of my interest in Japanese, and even though I'll probably never "master" it (if such a thing is even possible) I'm always on the lookout for tidbits of other languages.
One of the highlights of the JET Mid-Year Seminar is the free language class we get to remind us of what it's like to have a stranger speak to us using words we do not understand. After all, that's exactly what we do for a living. We never get too deep, as it's only one session, but I find it fascinating even if my retention level is pretty poor. Twice now I've gotten a taste of Cantonese from fellow JET Helen and the most I can remember is 1, 2, and 3.
Watching Inglorious Basterds reminded me of how exciting a multi-lingual environment can be. Nearly every character in the film speaks two languages with the glaring exception of the Basterds themselves. This is a group charged with infiltrating Nazi-occupied territory and the only members of the team who speak German were born in Europe. It reminds me of my trips abroad in high school when I met children my own age who spoke English wonderfully in addition to their native tongue while they were studying a third language in school. Meanwhile I was barely navigating basic conversations in French and my German was little more than a collection of nouns that sounded funny (e.g. eierstokke).
I know it's unfair to compare a multi-cultural continent like Europe with an archipelago nation that has serious xenophobia issues, but ever since I saw Inglorious Basterds Japan's view of foreign languages suddenly feels more imprisoning than ever. My day job consists of trying to expose sheltered rural children to the idea that there is an entire world full of people out there who do not speak Japanese. More often than not, I am met with resistance against the very notion that someone could speak more than one language. Everything around here is black and white in that respects.
I am told time and time again how "difficult" English is, as if that explains their national hostility towards it. Twenty years ago I spent months studying Hebrew against my will for my Bar Mitzvah. It wasn't easy and I complained a lot but I still did it. Compared to that, asking these kids to learn a handful of vocabulary words or study the alphabet does not strike me as unreasonable, yet their teachers cannot wait to make excuses for their lack of cooperation.
When you get right down to it, it's hardly the children's fault that they struggle with English. The entirety of Japanese society goes out of its way to shelter itself from foreign language. Advertisements are more likely to include a Japanese "search term" than an actual URL, lest a customer have trouble remembering a few letter of the alphabet. When foreigners appear on television outside of the NHK nightly news, they are typically subtitled and dubbed into Japanese. As if that double translation isn't enough to mask their bizarre manner of speaking, their words will be carefully rewritten to mimic rigid Japanese gender-based speech patterns.
Even while watching Inglorious Basterds in the theater I was feeling the Japanese pressure via the relentless subtitles. Absolutely every line in the film is subtitled, even ones that did not carry English subtitles, even one-word replies and people's names. Even Hugo's knife, which had an engraved message that flashed across screen for half a second while he sharpened it (upside-down, if I'm not mistaken), was subtitled in Japanese. Not a single moment in the film is left up to the audience to bear in an unfamiliar language. Hell, even when the year is written at the bottom of the screen, there's a Japanese subtitle just to make it clear that this is a year as opposed to a random declaration of a four-digit number (which they can totally read, by the way).
I guess I'll never understand why they are so anxious about these things, why nothing can be left untranslated or unexplained. Believe me, I wince when I see how the United States handles foreign language and foreign concepts from time to time (what I wouldn't give to see subtitled films in movie theaters instead of waiting for DVD), but at least we trust our lowest-common-denominators to understand that "si" and "non" mean "yes" and "no." Relax, Japan! A few funny-sounding words won't kill you, capice?
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I keep thinking about Inglorious Basterds and how terrific it was. The more I revisit it in my mind, the more things I find to love about it. Conversely, I find the elements that bugged me about the movie becoming less significant. This is the opposite of how my thought process usually works. Typically, when I reflect on a film, video game or whatever, I latch onto the flaws and nitpick them while telling myself "I can only do this because the rest of it was so good." With Inglorious Basterds I'm actually downplaying elements that irritated me when I first watched it.
For example, I was not a fan of Eli Roth as Donny, "the Bear Jew." I hold no personal animosity towards the man (I liked Cabin Fever and found Hostel more interesting than people give it credit for) but his portrayal of the supposedly-intimidating bat-wielding Nazi killer did not work for me. There's an incredible set-up for the character where high-ranking Nazis (including Adolf Hitler!) discuss how horrible he is and how he might be a "golem" (boy do I regret not noting how they translated that word into Japanese), plus there's that long shot of the tunnel where you cannot see him but you hear the sound of his bat coming from the dark. But when he emerges, he's just a (somewhat) hairy guy in an undershirt. Not particularly bear-like, in my opinion.
However, as I think about the film again and again, I realize that the entire Basterds unit was a rather unassuming bunch of guys. They're not particularly bad-ass, they just kill Nazis in a purposely brutal fashion so that their enemies will spread rumors about their deeds. They're not The Dirty Dozen, they're just regular soldiers with a colorful modus operandi and Donny is perfect when viewed in that context. He's a loudmouth, a braggart; he carries a big stick but speaks loudly anyway. When he finds himself in a tight spot, such as sitting in a cinema full of Nazi brass, he looks genuinely terrified because he's in over his head.
(SPOILER ALERT)
...
...
In the end, their plan only succeeds due to the unexpected actions of others, namely Landa and Shosanna. Were it not for their "help," so to speak, Donny and the rest of the Basterds would have been killed, easily.
(end spoilers)
Even better than reconsidering what I didn't like about Inglorious Basterds is discovering new things that I did like. It occurred to me today that the movie made a direct appeal to me on a linguistic level. I have always had a strong sense of curiosity when it comes to foreign languages. The whole reason I live in Japan now is because of my interest in Japanese, and even though I'll probably never "master" it (if such a thing is even possible) I'm always on the lookout for tidbits of other languages.
One of the highlights of the JET Mid-Year Seminar is the free language class we get to remind us of what it's like to have a stranger speak to us using words we do not understand. After all, that's exactly what we do for a living. We never get too deep, as it's only one session, but I find it fascinating even if my retention level is pretty poor. Twice now I've gotten a taste of Cantonese from fellow JET Helen and the most I can remember is 1, 2, and 3.
Watching Inglorious Basterds reminded me of how exciting a multi-lingual environment can be. Nearly every character in the film speaks two languages with the glaring exception of the Basterds themselves. This is a group charged with infiltrating Nazi-occupied territory and the only members of the team who speak German were born in Europe. It reminds me of my trips abroad in high school when I met children my own age who spoke English wonderfully in addition to their native tongue while they were studying a third language in school. Meanwhile I was barely navigating basic conversations in French and my German was little more than a collection of nouns that sounded funny (e.g. eierstokke).
I know it's unfair to compare a multi-cultural continent like Europe with an archipelago nation that has serious xenophobia issues, but ever since I saw Inglorious Basterds Japan's view of foreign languages suddenly feels more imprisoning than ever. My day job consists of trying to expose sheltered rural children to the idea that there is an entire world full of people out there who do not speak Japanese. More often than not, I am met with resistance against the very notion that someone could speak more than one language. Everything around here is black and white in that respects.
I am told time and time again how "difficult" English is, as if that explains their national hostility towards it. Twenty years ago I spent months studying Hebrew against my will for my Bar Mitzvah. It wasn't easy and I complained a lot but I still did it. Compared to that, asking these kids to learn a handful of vocabulary words or study the alphabet does not strike me as unreasonable, yet their teachers cannot wait to make excuses for their lack of cooperation.
When you get right down to it, it's hardly the children's fault that they struggle with English. The entirety of Japanese society goes out of its way to shelter itself from foreign language. Advertisements are more likely to include a Japanese "search term" than an actual URL, lest a customer have trouble remembering a few letter of the alphabet. When foreigners appear on television outside of the NHK nightly news, they are typically subtitled and dubbed into Japanese. As if that double translation isn't enough to mask their bizarre manner of speaking, their words will be carefully rewritten to mimic rigid Japanese gender-based speech patterns.
Even while watching Inglorious Basterds in the theater I was feeling the Japanese pressure via the relentless subtitles. Absolutely every line in the film is subtitled, even ones that did not carry English subtitles, even one-word replies and people's names. Even Hugo's knife, which had an engraved message that flashed across screen for half a second while he sharpened it (upside-down, if I'm not mistaken), was subtitled in Japanese. Not a single moment in the film is left up to the audience to bear in an unfamiliar language. Hell, even when the year is written at the bottom of the screen, there's a Japanese subtitle just to make it clear that this is a year as opposed to a random declaration of a four-digit number (which they can totally read, by the way).
I guess I'll never understand why they are so anxious about these things, why nothing can be left untranslated or unexplained. Believe me, I wince when I see how the United States handles foreign language and foreign concepts from time to time (what I wouldn't give to see subtitled films in movie theaters instead of waiting for DVD), but at least we trust our lowest-common-denominators to understand that "si" and "non" mean "yes" and "no." Relax, Japan! A few funny-sounding words won't kill you, capice?
Labels: frustration, Inglorious Basterds, Japan, JET, movies, teaching, Thanksgiving
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Sunday, November 15, 2009
The Week That Was: Teaching, Presenting, & Gaming
Quite a week, that. Three days of teaching (two in my biggest, unfriendliest school) plus two days attending the JET mid-year seminar. It was a nice break from my usual routine and I did enjoy having a chance to go into the city instead of heading out into the countryside. And hey, free calligraphy lesson
This year's seminar was a little different/scarier because I had to deliver a presentation of my own: "Juggling Elementary Schools." I guess I should have seen this coming. After years of complaining that the JET Programme didn't do enough to address the unique issues of elementary schools, it seems I have become the best person to actually talk about those issues. I just wish I had a time machine to go back to 2007 and deliver this workshop to myself because I was still nervous as hell back then.
Funny sidenote: when I was first contacted to deliver this presentation, I was standing on the floor of the Tokyo Game Show back in September. Talk about worlds colliding!
And while we're talking games, I should mention that I went to Games Japan Festa 2009 in Osaka on Saturday. The show lasted two days but to be frank, it was a small show. I will be writing a few things about it for Wired Game|Life but anything that I don't cover there I will report on right here.
And as long as we're on the subject, my story on dessert-dispensing crane games went live on that site late last week. Go on and have a read if you didn't already. For the record I did not win anything in the two separate visits I made but I would absolutely consider going again if I had company, hopefully in the form of someone good at crane games. I want pudding, damn it!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
This year's seminar was a little different/scarier because I had to deliver a presentation of my own: "Juggling Elementary Schools." I guess I should have seen this coming. After years of complaining that the JET Programme didn't do enough to address the unique issues of elementary schools, it seems I have become the best person to actually talk about those issues. I just wish I had a time machine to go back to 2007 and deliver this workshop to myself because I was still nervous as hell back then.
Funny sidenote: when I was first contacted to deliver this presentation, I was standing on the floor of the Tokyo Game Show back in September. Talk about worlds colliding!
And while we're talking games, I should mention that I went to Games Japan Festa 2009 in Osaka on Saturday. The show lasted two days but to be frank, it was a small show. I will be writing a few things about it for Wired Game|Life but anything that I don't cover there I will report on right here.
And as long as we're on the subject, my story on dessert-dispensing crane games went live on that site late last week. Go on and have a read if you didn't already. For the record I did not win anything in the two separate visits I made but I would absolutely consider going again if I had company, hopefully in the form of someone good at crane games. I want pudding, damn it!
Labels: JET, Osaka, teaching, video games, Wired
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Mid-September Settlement
It's been a busy couple of days, but it hasn't been a sweaty couple of days which makes me very happy. Summer seems to have let up early this year as it's only mid-September but we've already stopped using the air conditioner. I'm still wearing short sleeves everyday but the sweet spot of autumn should be here soon.
A quick thank you to everyone who expressed concern/encouragement after I made a somber tweet last week. There wasn't anything major going on at the time, I just felt run down and I didn't know why. I wasn't expecting all the responses I got, but I appreciate them. The glum feelings didn't last but the knowledge that so many people are out there listening endures.
I spent Saturday outdoors with a few JETs exploring Uji in southern Kyoto. I had been there in 2006 with Mako on a date so I knew what to expect, and the experience was pretty much as I hoped, save for the rain and the underwhelming turnout. There were only six of us and they were all people I had met before. This is not a bad thing, of course, but I enjoy meeting new people at these "JET-togethers" since I don't spend much time away from my family otherwise. I can't go to next week's pub quiz either, as I'll be in Tokyo.
Oh yeah, Tokyo...I promise I'll write about the big news tomorrow. I had initially said it was three weeks away on Sept. 3rd, but my plans have changed. I'm leaving on Tuesday and I'll be there through the weekend. I know I would be excited in any case as this is my first "vacation" of 2009 but with the things I have in store for me, I can hardly believe it's less than a week away.
Until then, I'm still expected to show up for work this week (I know, the nerve!) and it's been tiring but things are settling down. Monday was my first visit this semester to the tiny mountain school (entire student body pictured above) which is exhausting in a special kind of way. The classes are so small I have to come up with extra stuff to do to fill the entire class period. Also, without any public transportation in the area, I have to sit around and wait for someone to leave in order to get a ride home. This being Japan, I didn't get home until 6:30.
The more interesting developments have taken place at my largest school (entire student body pictured above playing tug-of-war). Rather than follow the lesson plans of the proactive, forward-thinking school that usually coordinates all the English language classes in Hana Town, they have been developing their own lessons this year. The thinking behind this was that if homeroom teachers are actually creating the lesson plans themselves, then they won't sit back and watch me do their job for them.
So far, the results have been mixed. A few teachers have embraced the changes and really stepped up. This means less shouting and less stress on my part. It also means less English, as the homeroom teacher has no choice but to conduct class in Japanese, but better them than me.
Other teachers, sadly, have not shown any signs of changing their ways. Some of them still retreat to the back of the room while others sit down with the kids like they're just another student in the class. That might sound like a clever idea to keep them quiet, but in reality it downgrades the teacher's presence from "authority figure" to "observer."
Meanwhile I'm the only adult standing in front of thirty or so children and I'm trying to convince them that the funny words I'm using are, in fact, a language and not just gibberish. Sometimes I am successful, but other times they simply dismiss me by babbling and giggling as I speak. I try to stay positive about it, reminding myself that not everybody is being disrespectful and some of them are actually paying attention. There's also the cynical way of looking at it, since I get paid whether the kids learn anything or not, but that's not very constructive.
Other than that, life at home hasn't changed much. Mako is feeling fine and Go continues to sleep, cry, eat, and grow. At last check he was nearly thirteen pounds. His most distinguishing feature is still his ruthless ability to look cute. I'll leave you with another taste, reminding you that he'll be appearing later this year in New York City should you want the full experience.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
A quick thank you to everyone who expressed concern/encouragement after I made a somber tweet last week. There wasn't anything major going on at the time, I just felt run down and I didn't know why. I wasn't expecting all the responses I got, but I appreciate them. The glum feelings didn't last but the knowledge that so many people are out there listening endures.
I spent Saturday outdoors with a few JETs exploring Uji in southern Kyoto. I had been there in 2006 with Mako on a date so I knew what to expect, and the experience was pretty much as I hoped, save for the rain and the underwhelming turnout. There were only six of us and they were all people I had met before. This is not a bad thing, of course, but I enjoy meeting new people at these "JET-togethers" since I don't spend much time away from my family otherwise. I can't go to next week's pub quiz either, as I'll be in Tokyo.
Oh yeah, Tokyo...I promise I'll write about the big news tomorrow. I had initially said it was three weeks away on Sept. 3rd, but my plans have changed. I'm leaving on Tuesday and I'll be there through the weekend. I know I would be excited in any case as this is my first "vacation" of 2009 but with the things I have in store for me, I can hardly believe it's less than a week away.
Until then, I'm still expected to show up for work this week (I know, the nerve!) and it's been tiring but things are settling down. Monday was my first visit this semester to the tiny mountain school (entire student body pictured above) which is exhausting in a special kind of way. The classes are so small I have to come up with extra stuff to do to fill the entire class period. Also, without any public transportation in the area, I have to sit around and wait for someone to leave in order to get a ride home. This being Japan, I didn't get home until 6:30.
The more interesting developments have taken place at my largest school (entire student body pictured above playing tug-of-war). Rather than follow the lesson plans of the proactive, forward-thinking school that usually coordinates all the English language classes in Hana Town, they have been developing their own lessons this year. The thinking behind this was that if homeroom teachers are actually creating the lesson plans themselves, then they won't sit back and watch me do their job for them.
So far, the results have been mixed. A few teachers have embraced the changes and really stepped up. This means less shouting and less stress on my part. It also means less English, as the homeroom teacher has no choice but to conduct class in Japanese, but better them than me.
Other teachers, sadly, have not shown any signs of changing their ways. Some of them still retreat to the back of the room while others sit down with the kids like they're just another student in the class. That might sound like a clever idea to keep them quiet, but in reality it downgrades the teacher's presence from "authority figure" to "observer."
Meanwhile I'm the only adult standing in front of thirty or so children and I'm trying to convince them that the funny words I'm using are, in fact, a language and not just gibberish. Sometimes I am successful, but other times they simply dismiss me by babbling and giggling as I speak. I try to stay positive about it, reminding myself that not everybody is being disrespectful and some of them are actually paying attention. There's also the cynical way of looking at it, since I get paid whether the kids learn anything or not, but that's not very constructive.
Other than that, life at home hasn't changed much. Mako is feeling fine and Go continues to sleep, cry, eat, and grow. At last check he was nearly thirteen pounds. His most distinguishing feature is still his ruthless ability to look cute. I'll leave you with another taste, reminding you that he'll be appearing later this year in New York City should you want the full experience.
Labels: Japan, JET, Kyoto, mystery, number one son, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Bye Bye August
I am so glad this month is over. I don't normally point fingers at or curse arbitrary time designations but this August was a particularly nasty one. I won't be sorry to see it end.
I say this because the arrival of my mystery illness coincided almost perfectly with the start of this month and now that it's over, I am feeling much better. This should have been a light month for me, a period where I could write or play games or do whatever I wanted because I wasn't needed much at work. Instead, I spent a lot of my time feeling like crap, wrote very little and didn't do much of anything.
I certainly didn't have the energy to properly welcome my visiting family or escort the new JET in my area around. Everyone says they don't blame me, but I blame me because my absence no doubt put more pressure on everyone around me who doesn't speak Japanese. So let me say it one more time for all to hear: I'm sorry I wasn't stronger.
But let's move on, shall we? The weather and my condition have improved dramatically over this final week of August. I have to assume those facts are related, because nothing I received from any of the doctors I visited could have "cured" me. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, perhaps it was a passing bug or virus, or perhaps it was just something I ate. It's over now and I'm glad to be rid of it.
Classes have resumed at school and I'm picking up where I left off as best I can. Some students listen, some students don't. The same goes for the teachers I have to work with: some listen, some don't. Most of the schools have done a pretty good job of being prepared to discuss and start classes on the very first day I am available to teach (with this morning being a notable but ultimately predictable exception).
The best news out of all of this is that Go remained happy and healthy throughout the month, so whatever the hell happened to me it didn't have any visible effect on him. I leave you with this photo of him as evidence that my son is, objectively speaking, the most adorable baby of all time.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I say this because the arrival of my mystery illness coincided almost perfectly with the start of this month and now that it's over, I am feeling much better. This should have been a light month for me, a period where I could write or play games or do whatever I wanted because I wasn't needed much at work. Instead, I spent a lot of my time feeling like crap, wrote very little and didn't do much of anything.
I certainly didn't have the energy to properly welcome my visiting family or escort the new JET in my area around. Everyone says they don't blame me, but I blame me because my absence no doubt put more pressure on everyone around me who doesn't speak Japanese. So let me say it one more time for all to hear: I'm sorry I wasn't stronger.
But let's move on, shall we? The weather and my condition have improved dramatically over this final week of August. I have to assume those facts are related, because nothing I received from any of the doctors I visited could have "cured" me. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, perhaps it was a passing bug or virus, or perhaps it was just something I ate. It's over now and I'm glad to be rid of it.
Classes have resumed at school and I'm picking up where I left off as best I can. Some students listen, some students don't. The same goes for the teachers I have to work with: some listen, some don't. Most of the schools have done a pretty good job of being prepared to discuss and start classes on the very first day I am available to teach (with this morning being a notable but ultimately predictable exception).
The best news out of all of this is that Go remained happy and healthy throughout the month, so whatever the hell happened to me it didn't have any visible effect on him. I leave you with this photo of him as evidence that my son is, objectively speaking, the most adorable baby of all time.
Labels: family, frustration, Japan, JET, number one son, poor health, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Monday, August 03, 2009
New Month, New Face (Same Old Shituation)
Oh hey, it's August! How are you doing? I didn't see you come in. Perhaps because I spent so much time in the bathroom during the last week of July?
Yeah, without getting into any detail at all, I just have to go on record as saying this past week has been craptacularly uncomfortable for me. While I'm lucky that this didn't all go down during the school year, because I was in no condition to teach classes, this was a relatively busy week as far as summer vacation goes and it wasn't easy to handle.
The fever which had me out on the couch for two days (and sent Mako and Go hiding at her parents' house for three) left without much trouble, but certain lingering symptoms continue to vex me. The medication I received on Friday had some effect but my condition has not changed, so I may need to revisit the doctor this evening to see where we go from here. I don't think there's anything serious to worry about (yet) but a week of this is about five days too long in my opinion, so I'm not going to just sit it out anymore. I must insist on active medical remedies at this point.
Why was I busy when classes and students are nowhere to be seen? Well there's a new JET coming to Hana Town and she arrived on Wednesday of this week. As both the RA for our area and (more importantly) the only other JET in Hana Town, I made it a point to be there to greet her at Shin Osaka station alongside our supervisor from the Board of Education.
The good news is she's very friendly and I'm sure that she'll do a terrific job working with the middle school students. Her California accent isn't too strong so her pronunciation is good, which is key in this job, she has experience teaching and working with children, and she seems to be so positive about everything that I bet the kids will really like her.
The bad news is that she doesn't speak Japanese, so I spent a good chunk of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday trying to translate the world around her in addition to answering her many questions about her job, this area, and Japan in general. I hope that when Japan gets weird on her (and it will, eventually) she can handle it even if I'm not there to explain what's happening. Otherwise she'll leave and we'll have to do this all over again next summer.
We haven't really talked about Internet issues or my blogging, so I'll refrain from getting into any of her details, such as her name. At this point it's unclear whether or not we may work together at all or if she'll take over the tiny mountain school as her predecessor did for me last year.
Speaking of which, that's where I am right now (or rather, when I typed this) and that's unusual because I don't normally come here during the summer. Without any public transportation to connect this school to the rest of the world, in summers past I would simply spend my time elsewhere, but for some reason they actively wanted me to show up here today. I stress "for some reason" because I've been here for two hours and no one has yet to talk any kind of school business with me at all.
In completely unrelated news, Go turns six weeks old tomorrow. I've read this is a major step in his development, so we'll see how that goes. Supposedly he'll start sleeping more, but I suspect that will take a little more effort on our parts to not respond to his every tear. He cries a lot, even when full, and rarely is he able to sleep on his own. For his sake and for ours, this needs to change.
Of course, all that can wait until after my mother and sister come through here next week. Despite my warnings that summer in Japan is nothing short of hellish, the urge to see Go has overtaken the two of them and they cannot wait to hold him in their arms. Will that urge also drive them to change his diaper and give him his bottle? Because we will happily hand over all relevant materials and sit that week out if needed. We're flexible like that.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Yeah, without getting into any detail at all, I just have to go on record as saying this past week has been craptacularly uncomfortable for me. While I'm lucky that this didn't all go down during the school year, because I was in no condition to teach classes, this was a relatively busy week as far as summer vacation goes and it wasn't easy to handle.
The fever which had me out on the couch for two days (and sent Mako and Go hiding at her parents' house for three) left without much trouble, but certain lingering symptoms continue to vex me. The medication I received on Friday had some effect but my condition has not changed, so I may need to revisit the doctor this evening to see where we go from here. I don't think there's anything serious to worry about (yet) but a week of this is about five days too long in my opinion, so I'm not going to just sit it out anymore. I must insist on active medical remedies at this point.
Why was I busy when classes and students are nowhere to be seen? Well there's a new JET coming to Hana Town and she arrived on Wednesday of this week. As both the RA for our area and (more importantly) the only other JET in Hana Town, I made it a point to be there to greet her at Shin Osaka station alongside our supervisor from the Board of Education.
The good news is she's very friendly and I'm sure that she'll do a terrific job working with the middle school students. Her California accent isn't too strong so her pronunciation is good, which is key in this job, she has experience teaching and working with children, and she seems to be so positive about everything that I bet the kids will really like her.
The bad news is that she doesn't speak Japanese, so I spent a good chunk of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday trying to translate the world around her in addition to answering her many questions about her job, this area, and Japan in general. I hope that when Japan gets weird on her (and it will, eventually) she can handle it even if I'm not there to explain what's happening. Otherwise she'll leave and we'll have to do this all over again next summer.
We haven't really talked about Internet issues or my blogging, so I'll refrain from getting into any of her details, such as her name. At this point it's unclear whether or not we may work together at all or if she'll take over the tiny mountain school as her predecessor did for me last year.
Speaking of which, that's where I am right now (or rather, when I typed this) and that's unusual because I don't normally come here during the summer. Without any public transportation to connect this school to the rest of the world, in summers past I would simply spend my time elsewhere, but for some reason they actively wanted me to show up here today. I stress "for some reason" because I've been here for two hours and no one has yet to talk any kind of school business with me at all.
In completely unrelated news, Go turns six weeks old tomorrow. I've read this is a major step in his development, so we'll see how that goes. Supposedly he'll start sleeping more, but I suspect that will take a little more effort on our parts to not respond to his every tear. He cries a lot, even when full, and rarely is he able to sleep on his own. For his sake and for ours, this needs to change.
Of course, all that can wait until after my mother and sister come through here next week. Despite my warnings that summer in Japan is nothing short of hellish, the urge to see Go has overtaken the two of them and they cannot wait to hold him in their arms. Will that urge also drive them to change his diaper and give him his bottle? Because we will happily hand over all relevant materials and sit that week out if needed. We're flexible like that.
Labels: family, JET, number one son, poor health
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Blargh
I've been sick.
I woke up Monday morning feeling cold. I knew that meant something was horribly wrong, because there's no way a normal human can feel cold in Japan in summer. I took my temperature and discovered I was one tenth of a degree (Celcius) above normal. I felt funny but figured I would go to work anyway. By the time I got there I felt more funny (although part of that stemmed from waiting outside for ten minutes because nobody had a key to the school) so I checked my temperature again. Now it had risen quite a bit more, so we all agreed I should go home.
I visited a doctor who told me that the fever was so sudden that they couldn't tell if it was a flu or not, so they gave me some standard anti-fever meds and told me to come back that night (or the next day) if my condition got worse. In the meantime, Mako and Go evacuated the apartment because I really didn't want them to get what I had (especially if it was the flu, because that's bad news for babies).
I woke up today still feeling like crap, so I didn't bother going to work. I'm sure I wouldn't have been busy anyway, so that was an easy call to make. Mako and Go stayed away for one more day, just to be safe. In the meantime, my fever has completely subsided even though my head (and my bowels, ugh) are still a little..."off."
So what has that meant for me? Lots of time home alone, which means a whole lot of television and video games. I swear I saw the same episode of Law & Order: SVU four times in the last forty-eight hours. I've also been tearing through BioShock as fast as I can, which in my case is actually quite slow and plodding. I've definitely crossed the halfway point, possibly even the three-quarters point, so the end is in sight. I would love to write more about the game but the mood I've been in hasn't lent itself to writing. Just sitting here trying to finish this post has been a chore because I have constant urges to go to the bathroom.
Tomorrow a new ALT arrives and I'm supposed to be part of the welcoming committee. Will I recover in time to greet the new recruit? I sure hope so, because I've heard she doesn't speak much Japanese. Around here, that's pretty important.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I woke up Monday morning feeling cold. I knew that meant something was horribly wrong, because there's no way a normal human can feel cold in Japan in summer. I took my temperature and discovered I was one tenth of a degree (Celcius) above normal. I felt funny but figured I would go to work anyway. By the time I got there I felt more funny (although part of that stemmed from waiting outside for ten minutes because nobody had a key to the school) so I checked my temperature again. Now it had risen quite a bit more, so we all agreed I should go home.
I visited a doctor who told me that the fever was so sudden that they couldn't tell if it was a flu or not, so they gave me some standard anti-fever meds and told me to come back that night (or the next day) if my condition got worse. In the meantime, Mako and Go evacuated the apartment because I really didn't want them to get what I had (especially if it was the flu, because that's bad news for babies).
I woke up today still feeling like crap, so I didn't bother going to work. I'm sure I wouldn't have been busy anyway, so that was an easy call to make. Mako and Go stayed away for one more day, just to be safe. In the meantime, my fever has completely subsided even though my head (and my bowels, ugh) are still a little..."off."
So what has that meant for me? Lots of time home alone, which means a whole lot of television and video games. I swear I saw the same episode of Law & Order: SVU four times in the last forty-eight hours. I've also been tearing through BioShock as fast as I can, which in my case is actually quite slow and plodding. I've definitely crossed the halfway point, possibly even the three-quarters point, so the end is in sight. I would love to write more about the game but the mood I've been in hasn't lent itself to writing. Just sitting here trying to finish this post has been a chore because I have constant urges to go to the bathroom.
Tomorrow a new ALT arrives and I'm supposed to be part of the welcoming committee. Will I recover in time to greet the new recruit? I sure hope so, because I've heard she doesn't speak much Japanese. Around here, that's pretty important.
Labels: BioShock, JET, poor health, television, video games
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Monday, July 20, 2009
Dot to the Head
To celebrate the end of the semester, one of my schools had a office get-together on Friday night at a restaurant. We do this kind of thing every few months and it's always been at a Japanese place or the occasional neighboring cuisine, like Chinese or Korean. This time, however, we went to an Indian restaurant and that apparently changed everything. I know this sounds like another food post, but really, it's about my coworkers' behavior more than anything else.
I knew things were a bit off when I arrived and saw that all the women were wearing little press-on sparkly things on their foreheads in some kind of attempt to look Indian. No one had attempted to dress up for our previous meals (I saw no one in a hanbok when we ate yakiniku) and I was at a loss to guess why. I started to piece it together when I looked at the expression on people's faces as they gazed at the menu (often with their mouths agape) and when I kept hearing the question "Have you eaten Indian food before?*" Eventually, I figured it out: despite its proliferation, Indian food is actually exotic to the average Japanese person.
*Not to digress, but I must point out the choice of words here. Japanese people love to ask foreigners if they can eat Japanese food, a question that makes no sense when that foreigner has been living in Japan and eating school lunches for nearly two years. I fielded a variant of that question that same day in fact. Yet with other cuisines, it's always "have you eaten this" or "do you like this" which is just small talk. What's with the double standard?
This is something I find very surprising. Curry is absolutely integrated into the Japanese diet at this point. It's so common that it shows up in our school lunches at least once a month. Whether it's due to Japanese short-sightedness or simple ignorance, it would seem that few Japanese people actually consider curry's foreign origin. They just know what "curry" is and rarely consider what's in it; the way these people looked at the list of available dishes, you'd think that they were looking at an advanced chemistry textbook.
As for me, I love Indian food and I have been to many different Indian restaurants in and around Osaka in the past few years. I had not been to this particular one, of course, but the menu was pretty standard so I was not surprised by anything I saw (I was disappointed they had no vindaloo though). As a result, I found myself in a rare leadership position where people were looking to me for advice. Even though the menu and the waiter explained everything in Japanese more clearly than I ever could, it was up to me to recommend dishes and drinks for all. For example, no one applied that green spicy sauce to their food until after I did it, and then suddenly it was all over everyone's plates. I only wish they had followed my lead on the silverware, but instead every single one of them used chopsticks whenever possible. Tell me that isn't strange.
I'm sure you're thinking, "But Dan, don't you work in the sticks? Of course they were intimidated by the exoticism of Indian food!" I may work in the rural fringe of Osaka but I don't live there and neither do a majority of the teachers in Hana Town. Lots of them have traveled abroad and one teacher in particular lived in Holland for four years, so these are not hill people who are easily frightened by modern conveniences or the outside world.
I hope this doesn't come off as me making fun of anyone or expressing my disappointment with how the evening turned out. The food was quite nice, the drinks were free (few things in life are as wonderful as a Kingfisher in one hand and a mango lassi in the other) and it was kind of fun to be in a position of power for once. I'm just surprised at how intimidated they all seemed in the face of a commonplace cuisine like Indian food. I hope they came away from it as satisfied as I did, because I'd love to have more variety in our gatherings. Not just for the sake of variety but for value. Our typical Japanese dining experience runs me over 5500 Yen and I'm usually a bit hungry at the end. On Friday I only spent 4500 and I was stuffed. And at the risk of being selfish, it felt good knowing exactly what I was eating for a change.
The only downside to all this was I was too full and it was too late to go into the city afterwards to try and attend a sayonara party for the departing JETs. I will try to make it to this Friday's pub quiz for one last chance to bid some folks farewell. I can't say I was completely satisfied with my social life this past year but I'm glad I made a greater effort to make myself visible. The baby is going to make it harder to go out this next year but I'm not going to make any excuses. We'll find out soon enough, as the new JETs arrive next week. Bring on the newbies!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I knew things were a bit off when I arrived and saw that all the women were wearing little press-on sparkly things on their foreheads in some kind of attempt to look Indian. No one had attempted to dress up for our previous meals (I saw no one in a hanbok when we ate yakiniku) and I was at a loss to guess why. I started to piece it together when I looked at the expression on people's faces as they gazed at the menu (often with their mouths agape) and when I kept hearing the question "Have you eaten Indian food before?*" Eventually, I figured it out: despite its proliferation, Indian food is actually exotic to the average Japanese person.
*Not to digress, but I must point out the choice of words here. Japanese people love to ask foreigners if they can eat Japanese food, a question that makes no sense when that foreigner has been living in Japan and eating school lunches for nearly two years. I fielded a variant of that question that same day in fact. Yet with other cuisines, it's always "have you eaten this" or "do you like this" which is just small talk. What's with the double standard?
This is something I find very surprising. Curry is absolutely integrated into the Japanese diet at this point. It's so common that it shows up in our school lunches at least once a month. Whether it's due to Japanese short-sightedness or simple ignorance, it would seem that few Japanese people actually consider curry's foreign origin. They just know what "curry" is and rarely consider what's in it; the way these people looked at the list of available dishes, you'd think that they were looking at an advanced chemistry textbook.
As for me, I love Indian food and I have been to many different Indian restaurants in and around Osaka in the past few years. I had not been to this particular one, of course, but the menu was pretty standard so I was not surprised by anything I saw (I was disappointed they had no vindaloo though). As a result, I found myself in a rare leadership position where people were looking to me for advice. Even though the menu and the waiter explained everything in Japanese more clearly than I ever could, it was up to me to recommend dishes and drinks for all. For example, no one applied that green spicy sauce to their food until after I did it, and then suddenly it was all over everyone's plates. I only wish they had followed my lead on the silverware, but instead every single one of them used chopsticks whenever possible. Tell me that isn't strange.
I'm sure you're thinking, "But Dan, don't you work in the sticks? Of course they were intimidated by the exoticism of Indian food!" I may work in the rural fringe of Osaka but I don't live there and neither do a majority of the teachers in Hana Town. Lots of them have traveled abroad and one teacher in particular lived in Holland for four years, so these are not hill people who are easily frightened by modern conveniences or the outside world.
I hope this doesn't come off as me making fun of anyone or expressing my disappointment with how the evening turned out. The food was quite nice, the drinks were free (few things in life are as wonderful as a Kingfisher in one hand and a mango lassi in the other) and it was kind of fun to be in a position of power for once. I'm just surprised at how intimidated they all seemed in the face of a commonplace cuisine like Indian food. I hope they came away from it as satisfied as I did, because I'd love to have more variety in our gatherings. Not just for the sake of variety but for value. Our typical Japanese dining experience runs me over 5500 Yen and I'm usually a bit hungry at the end. On Friday I only spent 4500 and I was stuffed. And at the risk of being selfish, it felt good knowing exactly what I was eating for a change.
The only downside to all this was I was too full and it was too late to go into the city afterwards to try and attend a sayonara party for the departing JETs. I will try to make it to this Friday's pub quiz for one last chance to bid some folks farewell. I can't say I was completely satisfied with my social life this past year but I'm glad I made a greater effort to make myself visible. The baby is going to make it harder to go out this next year but I'm not going to make any excuses. We'll find out soon enough, as the new JETs arrive next week. Bring on the newbies!
Labels: but I love gatherings, food, Indian food, Japan, JET
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
"No Faith" Education
This is a really straightforward flash card. The image is unambiguous and the words are highly visible. Why did someone feel it needed more "explanation" and thus scrawl in Japanese on the right side? How does that improve its educational value?
What's worse is that the Japanese word for "pool" is just "puuru." They're already using a loan word! But instead of students listening to my pronunciation or trying to read the English, now they will simply read and repeat in Japanese.
If you really want to teach these kids words they already know, you don't need me to come to this class at all. Your own staff can practice saying "puuru" without me getting in the way. Maybe then I could spend more than one hour a month with the younger students.
Labels: Japan, JET, moblogging, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Climb Every Mountain
This week went pretty fast. Being thrown under the bus can make time fly, I suppose.
OK, that's an unfair exaggeration, but it was a long week that left me little time for writing because I had to prepare most of my lessons on the fly. When I made it through last week without any lesson plans, I thought things would be different this week. The only difference was that I had already taught a few classes so I had a better idea of how to handle being underprepared...again. Yes, my Monday school must have been really impressed with how I handled myself last week, because this week they left me hanging again, forcing me to come up with another round of lessons on my own. Thursday was the same story in a different building, only in that school I had done absolutely nothing last week. We could have talked about materials or potential lessons, but instead I got a lot of "sorry we're not ready" apologies. Then I show up this week and they want everything right away.
There's a great line in Fight Club that seems eerily appropriate for describing how these elementary schools think about their English language education: "[it] exists only in the hours between when fight club starts and when fight club ends." Despite all the meetings and e-mails, despite the abundance of technology that allows these folks to communicate with one another (and with me!), it's clear to me that until I walk through the front door of their school each week, I do not exist. What other excuse could there be for them to accomplish absolutely nothing in an entire week between my visits?
Things ended up working out, thanks entirely to me. I feel like an ass even saying it like that, but what other way can I put it? If they're not going to help plan the lessons and they don't help teach the lessons, what other choice do I have? Should I just fail spectacularly once in the hopes that it might convince them to stop leaving everything up to me? Maybe my constant delivery of mediocrity is making them too comfortable. They don't need quality lessons because I'm giving them bland, good-enough lessons without all the bother of having a conversation with me beforehand or, you know, actually teaching their own students. Similarly, I don't want to turn into a proactive taskmaster, calling schools on my own time to convince them to do their jobs, because I assume that will make them do even less on their own. I genuinely believe at this point that there is an inverse relationship between the amount of effort I put in and their reciprocal behavior.
On Monday I have to go back to the tiny mountain school for the first time in over a year. As you might expect, the only I reason I knew I was going there was because I was nosy and I started asking a lot of questions about a note written on the blackboard at my regular Monday school. Turns out they've decided to alternate my lessons between the two schools. Why this information wouldn't be brought to my immediate attention, I have no idea. Again, the meeting took place when I wasn't around, so I did not exist at the time.
But hey, at least the week ended very well. Yesterday I went to the good school and we went on a field trip. The entire student body and a dozen teachers took a long walk up into the mountains and back again. We took frequent breaks, but we were definitely on our feet for at least four hours during the six and a half we were out of the building. I had a lot of fun and the whole outing reminded me of how good things can be when schools welcome me and treat me as a person. This is the same school that regularly invites me to after-work meals - there's one coming up this Tuesday, in fact.
It also helps that I have a very good relationship with the students at this school, although there were a few odd moments yesterday. More than one student expressed shock at hearing me speak Japanese. While I do try to speak as much English as possible in class (a luxury I have only when I get to be the assistant rather than the sole teacher), I have been eating lunch and playing outside with these kids for over a year. I don't use much English at all during those times, yet somehow they've managed to forget all about those Pokemon conversations we've had. There was also one kid who started calling me gaijin and I had to explain to him why that was rude. And the weirdest exchange of all came after one of the new first graders learned I was an American:
But kids will be kids, and I ain't mad at 'em. I figure each time we have to get to know each other over again, we get a little bit closer. I took lots of pictures of the excursion, both with my phone and my regular camera. The small images are visible on my twitpic page while an assortment of the larger ones are in this album on Facebook.
After that very physically demanding day, I went out after dinner to a pub quiz in Osaka. I had gone to a number of these in months past, though last night was my first in quite some time. Things got off to a really great start when I came up with a prize-winning team name. The theme was Australia and New Zealand, and the first thing I thought of was "A Dingo Ate My Kiwi." From there, things stayed solid with a round based entirely on guessing the titles of movies from "literal" drawings. For example, a jar of preserves in orbit = Space Jam. We faltered a bit on the later rounds, and half of our team vanished before the game ended (that happens to me a lot) but we still won with 27 of 42 possible points. The prize was a bottle of cider, but it didn't last because in an instant there were strangers eager to share a glass with me. It's not about the prize anyway, it was about having fun and having a couple drinks. Mission Totally Accomplished!
Took it very easy today, thanks in small part to a downpour that lasted well into the afternoon, but that's OK. I'm a bit pink from being in the sun anyway. I'll leave the house again tomorrow. Don't worry about me, by the way. I complain when things get rough around here but as yesterday shows, the highs more than make up for the lows.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
OK, that's an unfair exaggeration, but it was a long week that left me little time for writing because I had to prepare most of my lessons on the fly. When I made it through last week without any lesson plans, I thought things would be different this week. The only difference was that I had already taught a few classes so I had a better idea of how to handle being underprepared...again. Yes, my Monday school must have been really impressed with how I handled myself last week, because this week they left me hanging again, forcing me to come up with another round of lessons on my own. Thursday was the same story in a different building, only in that school I had done absolutely nothing last week. We could have talked about materials or potential lessons, but instead I got a lot of "sorry we're not ready" apologies. Then I show up this week and they want everything right away.
There's a great line in Fight Club that seems eerily appropriate for describing how these elementary schools think about their English language education: "[it] exists only in the hours between when fight club starts and when fight club ends." Despite all the meetings and e-mails, despite the abundance of technology that allows these folks to communicate with one another (and with me!), it's clear to me that until I walk through the front door of their school each week, I do not exist. What other excuse could there be for them to accomplish absolutely nothing in an entire week between my visits?
Things ended up working out, thanks entirely to me. I feel like an ass even saying it like that, but what other way can I put it? If they're not going to help plan the lessons and they don't help teach the lessons, what other choice do I have? Should I just fail spectacularly once in the hopes that it might convince them to stop leaving everything up to me? Maybe my constant delivery of mediocrity is making them too comfortable. They don't need quality lessons because I'm giving them bland, good-enough lessons without all the bother of having a conversation with me beforehand or, you know, actually teaching their own students. Similarly, I don't want to turn into a proactive taskmaster, calling schools on my own time to convince them to do their jobs, because I assume that will make them do even less on their own. I genuinely believe at this point that there is an inverse relationship between the amount of effort I put in and their reciprocal behavior.
On Monday I have to go back to the tiny mountain school for the first time in over a year. As you might expect, the only I reason I knew I was going there was because I was nosy and I started asking a lot of questions about a note written on the blackboard at my regular Monday school. Turns out they've decided to alternate my lessons between the two schools. Why this information wouldn't be brought to my immediate attention, I have no idea. Again, the meeting took place when I wasn't around, so I did not exist at the time.
But hey, at least the week ended very well. Yesterday I went to the good school and we went on a field trip. The entire student body and a dozen teachers took a long walk up into the mountains and back again. We took frequent breaks, but we were definitely on our feet for at least four hours during the six and a half we were out of the building. I had a lot of fun and the whole outing reminded me of how good things can be when schools welcome me and treat me as a person. This is the same school that regularly invites me to after-work meals - there's one coming up this Tuesday, in fact.
It also helps that I have a very good relationship with the students at this school, although there were a few odd moments yesterday. More than one student expressed shock at hearing me speak Japanese. While I do try to speak as much English as possible in class (a luxury I have only when I get to be the assistant rather than the sole teacher), I have been eating lunch and playing outside with these kids for over a year. I don't use much English at all during those times, yet somehow they've managed to forget all about those Pokemon conversations we've had. There was also one kid who started calling me gaijin and I had to explain to him why that was rude. And the weirdest exchange of all came after one of the new first graders learned I was an American:
Boy: "Do you like war?"
Me: "No, no one likes that!"
Boy: "Then why does America fight wars?"
Me: (declining to explain that I do not get to choose when and how America fights in wars) "Nobody likes war, not even those who fight in them."
But kids will be kids, and I ain't mad at 'em. I figure each time we have to get to know each other over again, we get a little bit closer. I took lots of pictures of the excursion, both with my phone and my regular camera. The small images are visible on my twitpic page while an assortment of the larger ones are in this album on Facebook.
After that very physically demanding day, I went out after dinner to a pub quiz in Osaka. I had gone to a number of these in months past, though last night was my first in quite some time. Things got off to a really great start when I came up with a prize-winning team name. The theme was Australia and New Zealand, and the first thing I thought of was "A Dingo Ate My Kiwi." From there, things stayed solid with a round based entirely on guessing the titles of movies from "literal" drawings. For example, a jar of preserves in orbit = Space Jam. We faltered a bit on the later rounds, and half of our team vanished before the game ended (that happens to me a lot) but we still won with 27 of 42 possible points. The prize was a bottle of cider, but it didn't last because in an instant there were strangers eager to share a glass with me. It's not about the prize anyway, it was about having fun and having a couple drinks. Mission Totally Accomplished!
Took it very easy today, thanks in small part to a downpour that lasted well into the afternoon, but that's OK. I'm a bit pink from being in the sun anyway. I'll leave the house again tomorrow. Don't worry about me, by the way. I complain when things get rough around here but as yesterday shows, the highs more than make up for the lows.
Labels: frustration, JET, Osaka, teaching, workout
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Counting My Delicious Eggs (No Chickens Yet)
There's a Japanese song I like called 幸せのものさし (Shiawase no monosashi). It was the opening theme song to a TV show Mako got hooked on last year about three women around 40 years old who were all dealing with personal issues in their rather different lives. I don't understand most of the lyrics but the chorus is in English (kinda!) and I think it's a genuinely positive statement: "Count what you have now / Don't count what you don't have / Find out you have so much."
The fact that this song came up on my iPod this morning during random play (and while it was playing, a complete stranger approached me on the street and shook my hand) reminded me that things are going really well for me around here. Often, I feel overwhelmed when I "count what I don't have," and I'm not just talking about material crap like a new PC or more video games. I get nervous when I think about the baby because I don't have any experience with infants, I feel unimportant when I show up for work and there's nothing for me to do, and all week I've been anxious because I had no confidence in this semester's unusual teaching arrangements.
Throughout last year, we started each semester with a meeting of teachers from all the schools in Hana Town and talked about the English lesson plans. In theory, this was so the other teachers would be familiar enough with the plans to actually teach the classes, allowing me to assume my designated role as "assistant language teacher." Of course, no matter how many meetings we had and speeches were given, I always ended up teaching the classes myself at the other schools.
In this new school year, things have gotten off to a rather different start. No attempt to gather the teachers to discuss English has been made. Instead, the idea is that each school will develop their own plans (possibly using the new English textbooks the Japanese government has come up with) and thus empower the teachers to run the classes as they should be doing. For me, this meant showing up for work this week without any idea of what would be in store for me. I had no teaching materials or outlines, I simply had to show up and discover what each school had in mind for me.
Having been here for almost two years now, I looked at this plan with extreme skepticism. I have had issues with being an "assistant teacher" who is forced to drag homeroom teachers in front of their own students, but over time I got used to the burden of being in charge of the classroom. My anxiety about stepping up and trying to control 20-30 children at a time was offset by the fact that I had a grasp of the material and was familiar with the goals of the lesson. Under the new plan, I would be going in blind, forced to rely on others to provide me with direction.
As I have often lamented on this blog, the teachers I work with are not the most reliable people in the world. English classes in elementary school are far and away the lowest priority activity the children have on their busy schedules, (certainly ranked below keeping the school clean or even jumping rope) so I have become accustomed to canceled classes, surprise schedule overhauls and just all-around disinterest. Asking a coworker to prepare flash cards or give the children a homework assignment is a crap shoot; there's always a chance I'll come in the next week and find my request was forgotten (or ignored).
On Monday, I arrived at a very small school (19 students now, down from 27 last year) to learn that Yes, they wanted me to teach but No, they did not have lesson plans or materials prepared. I wish I could say I was surprised or even disappointed, but I can't. They did, at least, have a vague request that I help the children learn how to do the daily announcements in English. Using their extremely rough draft, I was able to spent most of our class time reviewing the days of the week and months of the year. We also included a generous portion of time to making new name tags, which was of great help in filling 45 minutes.
Tuesday I went to my largest school (over 300 students) and discovered a similarly irritating good news/bad news situation. They had a lesson plan in mind, some of which they showed me the week before, offering me an unheard-of level of preparedness. However, they had not heeded any of my requests for materials or information, so I was left hanging once again. Still, the teacher in charge of English planning for that school was surprisingly free, so between the two of us we were able to discuss ideas and get some of the stuff I wanted in time for class. The rest was left to me and my (ever-growing) talent for taking nothing and turning it into something. Those improv sessions at CTY just keep paying dividends in my adult life.
I knew I had classes to teach on Wednesday (62 students) but again I arrived at work without knowing what the school wanted me to do. As I could have guessed, they didn't know what they wanted yet. However, thanks to a marathon flash card session last summer I had an abundance of teaching materials at my disposal, so I simply adopted the plans of Tuesday's school to Wednesday's school and went to work. It all went pretty smoothly, especially since the classes are smaller and therefore less rowdy.
There was some real magic that took place yesterday when things didn't go so smoothly, something I never could have anticipated. Despite working with two different teachers to set up a laptop with a projector, I couldn't get any images on the big screen once class began. I tried to get it working again but after a few minutes (which felt like an eternity), the homeroom teacher leapt into action and proposed playing a game with the students instead. She came up with the game on her own, explained the rules to the students and set the entire thing into motion. All I had to do was agree and respond when the students talked to me. It was incredible.
Why was a teacher suddenly taking charge of English class for once? Because she had spent the previous year working at the good school, the one where they had been making the English plans for the entire district, more or less. She spent all of last year leading her own English class with the help of a native speaker to assist her, exactly the way this system is supposed to work. She had also never been a teacher prior to last year, which means her entire elementary school career was shaped by that experience. I had mistakenly assumed that once she left that school, she would fall in line with the other teachers and let me take charge. Instead, she all but shoved me aside to keep the class on track. I've never been so happy to be so wrong.
So here I sit at my Thursday school (151 students) with no classes at all, feeling pretty good about this week so far. Each day I came to work with only a vague notion of what might happen and while each school found ways to disappoint me, I still managed to teach all my classes anyway. Rather than add up all that went wrong, I'm happy to "count what I do have" and feel proud of what went right. Maybe their plan to put the burden of lesson creation on the individual schools was the right idea...or maybe it will all come crashing down next week. Either way I'm not going to worry about it anymore because yesterday's success and this morning's musical coincidence have put me in a good mood. That, and it's almost the weekend, and I hate worrying on weekends.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
The fact that this song came up on my iPod this morning during random play (and while it was playing, a complete stranger approached me on the street and shook my hand) reminded me that things are going really well for me around here. Often, I feel overwhelmed when I "count what I don't have," and I'm not just talking about material crap like a new PC or more video games. I get nervous when I think about the baby because I don't have any experience with infants, I feel unimportant when I show up for work and there's nothing for me to do, and all week I've been anxious because I had no confidence in this semester's unusual teaching arrangements.
Throughout last year, we started each semester with a meeting of teachers from all the schools in Hana Town and talked about the English lesson plans. In theory, this was so the other teachers would be familiar enough with the plans to actually teach the classes, allowing me to assume my designated role as "assistant language teacher." Of course, no matter how many meetings we had and speeches were given, I always ended up teaching the classes myself at the other schools.
In this new school year, things have gotten off to a rather different start. No attempt to gather the teachers to discuss English has been made. Instead, the idea is that each school will develop their own plans (possibly using the new English textbooks the Japanese government has come up with) and thus empower the teachers to run the classes as they should be doing. For me, this meant showing up for work this week without any idea of what would be in store for me. I had no teaching materials or outlines, I simply had to show up and discover what each school had in mind for me.
Having been here for almost two years now, I looked at this plan with extreme skepticism. I have had issues with being an "assistant teacher" who is forced to drag homeroom teachers in front of their own students, but over time I got used to the burden of being in charge of the classroom. My anxiety about stepping up and trying to control 20-30 children at a time was offset by the fact that I had a grasp of the material and was familiar with the goals of the lesson. Under the new plan, I would be going in blind, forced to rely on others to provide me with direction.
As I have often lamented on this blog, the teachers I work with are not the most reliable people in the world. English classes in elementary school are far and away the lowest priority activity the children have on their busy schedules, (certainly ranked below keeping the school clean or even jumping rope) so I have become accustomed to canceled classes, surprise schedule overhauls and just all-around disinterest. Asking a coworker to prepare flash cards or give the children a homework assignment is a crap shoot; there's always a chance I'll come in the next week and find my request was forgotten (or ignored).
On Monday, I arrived at a very small school (19 students now, down from 27 last year) to learn that Yes, they wanted me to teach but No, they did not have lesson plans or materials prepared. I wish I could say I was surprised or even disappointed, but I can't. They did, at least, have a vague request that I help the children learn how to do the daily announcements in English. Using their extremely rough draft, I was able to spent most of our class time reviewing the days of the week and months of the year. We also included a generous portion of time to making new name tags, which was of great help in filling 45 minutes.
Tuesday I went to my largest school (over 300 students) and discovered a similarly irritating good news/bad news situation. They had a lesson plan in mind, some of which they showed me the week before, offering me an unheard-of level of preparedness. However, they had not heeded any of my requests for materials or information, so I was left hanging once again. Still, the teacher in charge of English planning for that school was surprisingly free, so between the two of us we were able to discuss ideas and get some of the stuff I wanted in time for class. The rest was left to me and my (ever-growing) talent for taking nothing and turning it into something. Those improv sessions at CTY just keep paying dividends in my adult life.
I knew I had classes to teach on Wednesday (62 students) but again I arrived at work without knowing what the school wanted me to do. As I could have guessed, they didn't know what they wanted yet. However, thanks to a marathon flash card session last summer I had an abundance of teaching materials at my disposal, so I simply adopted the plans of Tuesday's school to Wednesday's school and went to work. It all went pretty smoothly, especially since the classes are smaller and therefore less rowdy.
There was some real magic that took place yesterday when things didn't go so smoothly, something I never could have anticipated. Despite working with two different teachers to set up a laptop with a projector, I couldn't get any images on the big screen once class began. I tried to get it working again but after a few minutes (which felt like an eternity), the homeroom teacher leapt into action and proposed playing a game with the students instead. She came up with the game on her own, explained the rules to the students and set the entire thing into motion. All I had to do was agree and respond when the students talked to me. It was incredible.
Why was a teacher suddenly taking charge of English class for once? Because she had spent the previous year working at the good school, the one where they had been making the English plans for the entire district, more or less. She spent all of last year leading her own English class with the help of a native speaker to assist her, exactly the way this system is supposed to work. She had also never been a teacher prior to last year, which means her entire elementary school career was shaped by that experience. I had mistakenly assumed that once she left that school, she would fall in line with the other teachers and let me take charge. Instead, she all but shoved me aside to keep the class on track. I've never been so happy to be so wrong.
So here I sit at my Thursday school (151 students) with no classes at all, feeling pretty good about this week so far. Each day I came to work with only a vague notion of what might happen and while each school found ways to disappoint me, I still managed to teach all my classes anyway. Rather than add up all that went wrong, I'm happy to "count what I do have" and feel proud of what went right. Maybe their plan to put the burden of lesson creation on the individual schools was the right idea...or maybe it will all come crashing down next week. Either way I'm not going to worry about it anymore because yesterday's success and this morning's musical coincidence have put me in a good mood. That, and it's almost the weekend, and I hate worrying on weekends.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Friday, April 03, 2009
At Last
This Friday marks the end of Spring vacation. Finally, I can start working at work again!
I know that sounds wrong but hear me out. For two weeks I've been reporting to student-less schools and empty staff rooms and facing the same ordeal: none of the teachers are able to understand why I'm even there or willing to think about English classes because they're too busy wondering if they may be changing schools. This leaves me no choice but to spend all my time wondering what the hell I'm doing there myself. This job is always balancing itself between two ludicrous extremes. Sometimes I feel like an irreplaceable superhero who shows these sheltered kids that foreign countries are not weird or scary but simply different in certain ways. Other times I feel like a completely superfluous cog in a machine that resents my very presence. It is during these stretches of no classes that the second attitude rears its ugly head because I am literally wasting my time in an childless school day after day. No one cares to talk to me about anything nor do they even discuss matters that directly pertain to me.
For example, I mentioned last Friday that when I came to work as usual, there was an implausible yet somehow predictable level of confusion from everyone involved. The principal apologized for not telling me that I didn't need to be there and I was encouraged to go home early. Well, today I went back to that same school and...yeah, the exact same thing happened. Even though we went through this routine just one week earlier, the principal still acted as if he had no idea I was going to show up. What's worse is, his reason was that he heard that I would be going to a different school, but no one considered calling me and asking. Certainly when I last saw them, I said "see you next Friday" before I left. I make it a point to do that in the hopes that the staff will get used to my presence and associate me with a certain day of the week. A year and a half into this job, it seems my efforts are not producing very promising results. So as much as I enjoy spending my time writing for my blog or reading about the sleeping habits of babies, I am very eager to finally get back to work so I can be reminded of the good times: the times when there are children and adults who actually care whether I show up for work or not.
If there is a bright spot to this week, it has been the arrival of two friends from Tokyo. I first met them through Richard and we have sung together and explored Yoyogi Park together. Now they've decided to return to States to pursue new things, but before they leave they're visiting the Kansai area. Last night I met them in Namba and we spent the evening together. At first we roamed around Den Den Town for a look at the endless supplies of curiosities for sale there, then we sat down for a delicious array of yakitori. Full of chicken and a modest amount of liquor (for a weekday anyway) we walked over to the bright lights of Dotonbori and then toured the less-than-bright streets of Amerika-mura. While they said they had been to Osaka before, it had been quite some time and they didn't really remember much. I felt glad that I was able to give them a better glimpse of "my town," especially since they had tried to humanize Tokyo for me whenever I visited "their town."
In the meantime, I'm here at work, staring at the clock and waiting for my weekend to start. With the cherry blossoms nearly on full display, my hope is to meet up with my former Tokyo friends again tomorrow for some picnickin' and flower viewin' in Osaka Castle Park. That is, if it doesn't rain all weekend and wash away the pink. Guess there's always karaoke...
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I know that sounds wrong but hear me out. For two weeks I've been reporting to student-less schools and empty staff rooms and facing the same ordeal: none of the teachers are able to understand why I'm even there or willing to think about English classes because they're too busy wondering if they may be changing schools. This leaves me no choice but to spend all my time wondering what the hell I'm doing there myself. This job is always balancing itself between two ludicrous extremes. Sometimes I feel like an irreplaceable superhero who shows these sheltered kids that foreign countries are not weird or scary but simply different in certain ways. Other times I feel like a completely superfluous cog in a machine that resents my very presence. It is during these stretches of no classes that the second attitude rears its ugly head because I am literally wasting my time in an childless school day after day. No one cares to talk to me about anything nor do they even discuss matters that directly pertain to me.
For example, I mentioned last Friday that when I came to work as usual, there was an implausible yet somehow predictable level of confusion from everyone involved. The principal apologized for not telling me that I didn't need to be there and I was encouraged to go home early. Well, today I went back to that same school and...yeah, the exact same thing happened. Even though we went through this routine just one week earlier, the principal still acted as if he had no idea I was going to show up. What's worse is, his reason was that he heard that I would be going to a different school, but no one considered calling me and asking. Certainly when I last saw them, I said "see you next Friday" before I left. I make it a point to do that in the hopes that the staff will get used to my presence and associate me with a certain day of the week. A year and a half into this job, it seems my efforts are not producing very promising results. So as much as I enjoy spending my time writing for my blog or reading about the sleeping habits of babies, I am very eager to finally get back to work so I can be reminded of the good times: the times when there are children and adults who actually care whether I show up for work or not.
If there is a bright spot to this week, it has been the arrival of two friends from Tokyo. I first met them through Richard and we have sung together and explored Yoyogi Park together. Now they've decided to return to States to pursue new things, but before they leave they're visiting the Kansai area. Last night I met them in Namba and we spent the evening together. At first we roamed around Den Den Town for a look at the endless supplies of curiosities for sale there, then we sat down for a delicious array of yakitori. Full of chicken and a modest amount of liquor (for a weekday anyway) we walked over to the bright lights of Dotonbori and then toured the less-than-bright streets of Amerika-mura. While they said they had been to Osaka before, it had been quite some time and they didn't really remember much. I felt glad that I was able to give them a better glimpse of "my town," especially since they had tried to humanize Tokyo for me whenever I visited "their town."
In the meantime, I'm here at work, staring at the clock and waiting for my weekend to start. With the cherry blossoms nearly on full display, my hope is to meet up with my former Tokyo friends again tomorrow for some picnickin' and flower viewin' in Osaka Castle Park. That is, if it doesn't rain all weekend and wash away the pink. Guess there's always karaoke...
Labels: friends, frustration, Japan, JET
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
終了～!
That's a wrap! See you in two weeks!
Guess I should elaborate: today was the end of the school year. No more teachers, no more....you know the drill. Except in Japan, everything starts again in April. I know that syncs up nicely with springtime, the season for renewal, cherry blossoms, etc, but isn't it a bit anti-climactic? We say goodbye to everyone today, but they're back in only two weeks. Compare that to the States where we say goodbye for two months. Japan has a summer vacation too, but it falls mid-year. That means kids have regular study sessions and *gasp* homework in August. That's just cruel!
There was, of course, a "closing ceremony" with a few words from the principal and the singing of three songs (the school song and something else, twice). After that the kids went back to their classrooms to move all their desks into the hallway. While the smaller schools have a set layout (the same grades occupy the same rooms every year), this large school rearranges the grades each year to suit their needs. Since there are very few new students coming next year, they will only need one classroom instead of two. This gives them a chance to move some students out of the "annex" and back into the main building.
Meanwhile, guess who's moving to the annex? ME! Yes, they have decided to relocate my English classroom to another building entirely. While I feel strange to be so removed from all the regular classrooms, at least this new location will prevent all the jumping/singing/running we do from distracting any other students. In its present location, the noise from my classroom was definitely a problem for the sixth graders underneath us. I will miss the air conditioner I had access too though. The new room is on the third floor and I bet it gets hot there in July!
Other than that, all I did at work was eat lunch with the staff. It was a special meal that we all paid 2000 Yen for, which felt expensive to me but it was certainly filling. There were more speeches during lunchtime and I was stunned to learn that they wanted me to say a few words for some reason. Everyone else who spoke was either brand-new or retiring. I am neither. My guess is they forgot how long I've been here or they just like watching me struggle during impromptu Japanese speeches. Whatever, I got through it without any embarrassing errors.
So tomorrow I go back to work for the first of many days where I truly have nothing to do. No meetings, no students, no responsibilities. And no, the books I ordered aren't here yet. Drat.
OH, one last thing: my story about the earthquake/disaster center was printed in the local JET newsletter today. It's more or less the same as the web version, but I was really happy when Joe (the guy responsible for the bi-monthly publication) told me he liked what I wrote. Sadly, there is no money involved. Just the pride of a job well done...and a free plug for feitclub.com that I added to the end. Web counter, prepare to be OVERWHELMED!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Guess I should elaborate: today was the end of the school year. No more teachers, no more....you know the drill. Except in Japan, everything starts again in April. I know that syncs up nicely with springtime, the season for renewal, cherry blossoms, etc, but isn't it a bit anti-climactic? We say goodbye to everyone today, but they're back in only two weeks. Compare that to the States where we say goodbye for two months. Japan has a summer vacation too, but it falls mid-year. That means kids have regular study sessions and *gasp* homework in August. That's just cruel!
There was, of course, a "closing ceremony" with a few words from the principal and the singing of three songs (the school song and something else, twice). After that the kids went back to their classrooms to move all their desks into the hallway. While the smaller schools have a set layout (the same grades occupy the same rooms every year), this large school rearranges the grades each year to suit their needs. Since there are very few new students coming next year, they will only need one classroom instead of two. This gives them a chance to move some students out of the "annex" and back into the main building.
Meanwhile, guess who's moving to the annex? ME! Yes, they have decided to relocate my English classroom to another building entirely. While I feel strange to be so removed from all the regular classrooms, at least this new location will prevent all the jumping/singing/running we do from distracting any other students. In its present location, the noise from my classroom was definitely a problem for the sixth graders underneath us. I will miss the air conditioner I had access too though. The new room is on the third floor and I bet it gets hot there in July!
Other than that, all I did at work was eat lunch with the staff. It was a special meal that we all paid 2000 Yen for, which felt expensive to me but it was certainly filling. There were more speeches during lunchtime and I was stunned to learn that they wanted me to say a few words for some reason. Everyone else who spoke was either brand-new or retiring. I am neither. My guess is they forgot how long I've been here or they just like watching me struggle during impromptu Japanese speeches. Whatever, I got through it without any embarrassing errors.
So tomorrow I go back to work for the first of many days where I truly have nothing to do. No meetings, no students, no responsibilities. And no, the books I ordered aren't here yet. Drat.
OH, one last thing: my story about the earthquake/disaster center was printed in the local JET newsletter today. It's more or less the same as the web version, but I was really happy when Joe (the guy responsible for the bi-monthly publication) told me he liked what I wrote. Sadly, there is no money involved. Just the pride of a job well done...and a free plug for feitclub.com that I added to the end. Web counter, prepare to be OVERWHELMED!
Labels: Japan, JET, teaching, writing
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Equinoxer
For a nation with such a distorted work-first culture, Japan certainly loves its holidays. Friday was the Vernal Equinox so nobody had to go to work. A perfect time to head to Osaka for a day of sumo, right?
Almost perfect! It turns out that there was also a festival in Den Den Town on Friday full of street performers and cosplayers which would have been great fun to go and see. Alas, I was holed up in the nearby Prefectural Gymnasium all day watching sumo wrestling. And by all day, I mean all day. I arrived at nine AM and stayed until the last match at six PM. There were more than a few stretches of time when I was alone which wasn't the most fun, but for the most part I had a wonderful time.
Sitting down and watching a sport for nine hours is quite different than going to a ballgame or checking out the Olympics on TV. The early matches are extremely short; there's much less posing and staring as the competitors are encouraged to begin as quickly as possible. There's no scoreboard and no replay screens. If you miss something, you missed it. There are no regular pauses such as pitching changes or halftime, only a few breaks where the judges rotate and the staff sweep the ring. If you go to the bathroom or to the souvenir stand, you're going to miss out on a few bouts. I do my best to focus on the action when possible without trying too hard to analyze what's happening. And with over a hundred men competing, each match is a quick judgment call as far as support is concerned. Maybe I root for the local wrestler, maybe I root for the foreigner. Maybe I just like a guy's ring name or the apparent mismatch between him and his oversized/undersized opponent.
When I wasn't alone there were two other JETs (Ahmed and Emma) who live and work near me to talk to. Emma also brought a friend who works in Shizuoka whom I had never met. None of them had been to a sumo tournament before so I was occasionally required to explain the goings-on as best I could. In fact, we were surrounded by other English speaking persons and I often had to help them understand the proceedings as well. It was my pleasure to introduce as much of the sport as I could to newbies because I feel genuinely happy to increase the number of sumo fans in the world.
The big news of the day was, after a year and a half, I finally met up with Kazu again. He was finishing up grad school when I arrived in 2007, so aside from a brief afternoon together that August, we haven't seen each other or even spoken much since. I guess I was busy and then he was busy, but somehow it just never happened. I contacted him last week on a whim, hoping he would both remember me and be interested in seeing sumo. The answer was affirmative on both counts, although he was obviously more interested in seeing me than the wrestlers. Kazu didn't drop by until four so he only caught the very upper level of competition. He said it was his first time at the arena in twenty years.
Once the final men fought and the crowds poured onto the streets, we met up with a few other JETs and miscellaneous friends for some yakitori. Even though our group doubled in size I knew enough people to avoid get left behind by the conversation. If all else failed, I could simply catch up with Kazu, but it never really came to that. Kazu was nervous because he didn't know anybody at all but he's a genuinely pleasant guy so he got along with everyone in a hurry. Hell, all he had to do was tell a story about me and it got everyone's attention.
Our bellies full and our throats dry (alcohol dehydrates!) we moved on to a farewell party for Chika, a young lady I met last year at one of the various JET-togethers. She's moving to Singapore for a new job so she had invited a bunch of people out for drinks at a bar. I don't really "know" Chika that well but the few times we spoke she was super friendly and I really appreciated being invited to her party. Kazu was again concerned that he wouldn't know anyone but we were all stunned to learn that he knew Chika from college! I started to introduce them and they immediate went into the Japanese version of "don't I know you from somewhere?"
The only downside to the evening was that after so many hours of being out and drinking from mid-afternoon through dinner, I was pretty tired and definitely out of it. Not drunk, just seriously drowsy and feeling less than sociable. That factor, combined with the hour or so it takes for me to get home, forced me to leave the party pretty early to go home. Kazu actually stayed because he had made so many friends so quickly. Funny how that goes - he initially came out just to see me, then got dragged along to two straight functions and he ended up having a longer night than I did.
Anyway, that proved to be the main activity of this three-day weekend. Yesterday was a beautiful day but I was spent after Friday and Mako was spent from being six-months pregnant (yeah, she's getting pretty big now) so we didn't go anywhere. We just watched sumo on TV and I played some more games. I'm trying to get the hang of the level editor in LittleBigPlanet but I'm having trouble getting it to do what I want. In the meantime I finished Garden 6 in PixelJunk Eden, drawing a few steps closer towards the mysterious final level, and I managed to unlock Gen in Street Fighter IV with a minimum of anger towards the game's cunning tactics. Today looks to be more of the same, only with rain instead of sunshine.
Ugh, I'm so not looking forward to this week of complete non-teaching. I ordered a bunch of books from Amazon (including the baby book you suggested, Professor!) but they are days away from arriving. Guess I'll have no choice but to nap...er, WRITE. Yeah, write.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Almost perfect! It turns out that there was also a festival in Den Den Town on Friday full of street performers and cosplayers which would have been great fun to go and see. Alas, I was holed up in the nearby Prefectural Gymnasium all day watching sumo wrestling. And by all day, I mean all day. I arrived at nine AM and stayed until the last match at six PM. There were more than a few stretches of time when I was alone which wasn't the most fun, but for the most part I had a wonderful time.
Sitting down and watching a sport for nine hours is quite different than going to a ballgame or checking out the Olympics on TV. The early matches are extremely short; there's much less posing and staring as the competitors are encouraged to begin as quickly as possible. There's no scoreboard and no replay screens. If you miss something, you missed it. There are no regular pauses such as pitching changes or halftime, only a few breaks where the judges rotate and the staff sweep the ring. If you go to the bathroom or to the souvenir stand, you're going to miss out on a few bouts. I do my best to focus on the action when possible without trying too hard to analyze what's happening. And with over a hundred men competing, each match is a quick judgment call as far as support is concerned. Maybe I root for the local wrestler, maybe I root for the foreigner. Maybe I just like a guy's ring name or the apparent mismatch between him and his oversized/undersized opponent.
When I wasn't alone there were two other JETs (Ahmed and Emma) who live and work near me to talk to. Emma also brought a friend who works in Shizuoka whom I had never met. None of them had been to a sumo tournament before so I was occasionally required to explain the goings-on as best I could. In fact, we were surrounded by other English speaking persons and I often had to help them understand the proceedings as well. It was my pleasure to introduce as much of the sport as I could to newbies because I feel genuinely happy to increase the number of sumo fans in the world.
The big news of the day was, after a year and a half, I finally met up with Kazu again. He was finishing up grad school when I arrived in 2007, so aside from a brief afternoon together that August, we haven't seen each other or even spoken much since. I guess I was busy and then he was busy, but somehow it just never happened. I contacted him last week on a whim, hoping he would both remember me and be interested in seeing sumo. The answer was affirmative on both counts, although he was obviously more interested in seeing me than the wrestlers. Kazu didn't drop by until four so he only caught the very upper level of competition. He said it was his first time at the arena in twenty years.
Once the final men fought and the crowds poured onto the streets, we met up with a few other JETs and miscellaneous friends for some yakitori. Even though our group doubled in size I knew enough people to avoid get left behind by the conversation. If all else failed, I could simply catch up with Kazu, but it never really came to that. Kazu was nervous because he didn't know anybody at all but he's a genuinely pleasant guy so he got along with everyone in a hurry. Hell, all he had to do was tell a story about me and it got everyone's attention.
Our bellies full and our throats dry (alcohol dehydrates!) we moved on to a farewell party for Chika, a young lady I met last year at one of the various JET-togethers. She's moving to Singapore for a new job so she had invited a bunch of people out for drinks at a bar. I don't really "know" Chika that well but the few times we spoke she was super friendly and I really appreciated being invited to her party. Kazu was again concerned that he wouldn't know anyone but we were all stunned to learn that he knew Chika from college! I started to introduce them and they immediate went into the Japanese version of "don't I know you from somewhere?"
The only downside to the evening was that after so many hours of being out and drinking from mid-afternoon through dinner, I was pretty tired and definitely out of it. Not drunk, just seriously drowsy and feeling less than sociable. That factor, combined with the hour or so it takes for me to get home, forced me to leave the party pretty early to go home. Kazu actually stayed because he had made so many friends so quickly. Funny how that goes - he initially came out just to see me, then got dragged along to two straight functions and he ended up having a longer night than I did.
Anyway, that proved to be the main activity of this three-day weekend. Yesterday was a beautiful day but I was spent after Friday and Mako was spent from being six-months pregnant (yeah, she's getting pretty big now) so we didn't go anywhere. We just watched sumo on TV and I played some more games. I'm trying to get the hang of the level editor in LittleBigPlanet but I'm having trouble getting it to do what I want. In the meantime I finished Garden 6 in PixelJunk Eden, drawing a few steps closer towards the mysterious final level, and I managed to unlock Gen in Street Fighter IV with a minimum of anger towards the game's cunning tactics. Today looks to be more of the same, only with rain instead of sunshine.
Ugh, I'm so not looking forward to this week of complete non-teaching. I ordered a bunch of books from Amazon (including the baby book you suggested, Professor!) but they are days away from arriving. Guess I'll have no choice but to nap...er, WRITE. Yeah, write.
Labels: friends, JET, Kazu, sports, sumo, video games
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Thursday, March 19, 2009
WHAT DO YOU WANNA DO WITH YOUR LIFE?
My classes are over! If only that meant I didn't have to go to work anymore...
Yes, Tuesday was my final day of teaching for the semester. Before you flip out, remember that the Japanese school system is broken into three, rather than two, semesters, and this one ends next week. Starting in early April the new school year will begin and I'll probably be teaching students again by the time you Americans are paying your taxes. Now that I mention it, I guess I'm supposed to pay taxes too? Don't want to keep the Wall Street executives from collecting their precious fucking bonuses, now would I?
Ugh, let's not go there. With the end of the school year upon us, our theme in English class this semester for the older students was "My Dream." Basically, we taught them a few job names in English (fire fighter, dentist, pilot, etc.) and then asked them the big question we all love to pose to small children: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Now that all of the children have answered that question, I present to you the unscientific, off-the-top-of-my-head results.
Boys were mostly about sports. I can't tell you how many times I heard a boy tell me he wanted to be a baseball player or a soccer player. Other popular choices were ping pong, rugby, auto racing, and there was at least one who wanted to play in the NBA someday. Most of those who expressed an athletic interest mentioned playing in America or Europe, possibly in the Olympics as well. I think they recognize that being a pro baseball player is fine, but being a Major League ballplayer is where it's at. Sadly, there was significantly less interest expressed in domestic sports like judo or sumo.
Another surprise was how few boys said they wanted to be a farmer. Not only was it one of the words we practiced, making it an easy choice, but I work in a rural area where most of these kids grow up around farms. Either they all are "reaching for the stars" and hoping to get out of Hana Town someday or farming just isn't a "cool" job to tell people about. Still, there was a lot of interest in fishing which is basically farming without the soil. I guess an island nation is going to have a lot of respect for fisherman, even though Hana Town is in the mountains with no ocean in sight.
Lots of boys picked fire fighter and policeman as potential careers, most of whom were sons of said professionals. Guess that's the same as it is in the States. I remember all the boys in my class who were into the fire/police departments had parents who were already working in those fields. I'll bet there's a lot of pressure to follow in dad's footsteps in both countries. Will I encourage my son to become a teacher? Will I still be teaching when my boy is old enough to even understand what he wants in life?
There were more than a few boys who talked about science, typically choosing archaeology (for the dinosaurs) or astronomy (for space). A few said they wanted to be astronauts. Others mentioned the Japanese Self-Defense Force and carpentry. Comedy was, unsurprisingly, another popular vocation. Not only was "comedian" one of the words we practiced, but Osaka is seen as the comedy capital (or should I say komedy kapital, nyuk nyuk?) of Japan. Nearly all of the performers on television are from the Kansai area and the dialect is closely associated with laughter. Note to Japanese students everywhere: using Kansai-ben is a sure-fire way to put a smile on a Japanese person's face.
Girls were tragically limited in their employment aspirations. At least 75% said they wanted to be a teacher of some kind. Most of them talked about work in a hoikuen (the Japanese equivalent of day care/nursery school) because they "love children." The remaining girls typically wanted to get into the makeover business: hairdressers, beauticians, fashion designers, make-up artists, nail artists, etc. A few entrepreneurs wanted to run their own bakery, flower shop, or clothing boutique. You see the pattern, right? All of the girls' interests are essentially hobbies and completely compatible with being a housewife. If that's what they really want, I'm not going to condemn them for it, but I hoped a few of them would aim their sights a bit higher. At the very least, I thought the recent high-profile coverage of Japanese female athletes (Ai Miyazato, Ai Fukuhara, and the 2008 Olympic softball team have been television mainstays for some time now) would draw a few girls into sports, but hardly any of them expressed any curiosity in athletics.
So what don't Japanese kids want to be when they grow up? The American standards of "doctor" and "lawyer" were ignored. Only one boy wanted to be an architect (which is what I wanted to be when I was in elementary school). For all their aesthetic talk, not a single girl wanted to be a model and I can only remember one mentioning acting or singing. And not a single student, boy or girl, said they wanted to be prime minister. I guess that shouldn't surprise me, seeing as how Japanese prime ministers have such fleeting cultural relevance (in two years I've seen two resign and the third is heading south in a hurry), but I can't help but think back to my childhood and how presidents and other political figures were so dominant. Yet when I suggested the idea early in the exercise, most students laughed. I think that's a bad sign.
But my favorite story of all this came on Tuesday when I was teaching my last class of the semester, specifically a large fifth grade class. They had actually memorized their presentations and so they were coming up in front of the class one by one and delivering their speeches pretty quickly. One boy got up and said "I want to be a yakuzaishi," which is Japanese for "pharmacist." But all I heard was "I want to be a Yakuza" and I kind of freaked out. Some quick follow-up questions made it clear that I was WAY OFF, and everyone had a laugh when they realized what I thought he said.
To think, I almost had Henry Hill as a student.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Yes, Tuesday was my final day of teaching for the semester. Before you flip out, remember that the Japanese school system is broken into three, rather than two, semesters, and this one ends next week. Starting in early April the new school year will begin and I'll probably be teaching students again by the time you Americans are paying your taxes. Now that I mention it, I guess I'm supposed to pay taxes too? Don't want to keep the Wall Street executives from collecting their precious fucking bonuses, now would I?
Ugh, let's not go there. With the end of the school year upon us, our theme in English class this semester for the older students was "My Dream." Basically, we taught them a few job names in English (fire fighter, dentist, pilot, etc.) and then asked them the big question we all love to pose to small children: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Now that all of the children have answered that question, I present to you the unscientific, off-the-top-of-my-head results.
Boys were mostly about sports. I can't tell you how many times I heard a boy tell me he wanted to be a baseball player or a soccer player. Other popular choices were ping pong, rugby, auto racing, and there was at least one who wanted to play in the NBA someday. Most of those who expressed an athletic interest mentioned playing in America or Europe, possibly in the Olympics as well. I think they recognize that being a pro baseball player is fine, but being a Major League ballplayer is where it's at. Sadly, there was significantly less interest expressed in domestic sports like judo or sumo.
Another surprise was how few boys said they wanted to be a farmer. Not only was it one of the words we practiced, making it an easy choice, but I work in a rural area where most of these kids grow up around farms. Either they all are "reaching for the stars" and hoping to get out of Hana Town someday or farming just isn't a "cool" job to tell people about. Still, there was a lot of interest in fishing which is basically farming without the soil. I guess an island nation is going to have a lot of respect for fisherman, even though Hana Town is in the mountains with no ocean in sight.
Lots of boys picked fire fighter and policeman as potential careers, most of whom were sons of said professionals. Guess that's the same as it is in the States. I remember all the boys in my class who were into the fire/police departments had parents who were already working in those fields. I'll bet there's a lot of pressure to follow in dad's footsteps in both countries. Will I encourage my son to become a teacher? Will I still be teaching when my boy is old enough to even understand what he wants in life?
There were more than a few boys who talked about science, typically choosing archaeology (for the dinosaurs) or astronomy (for space). A few said they wanted to be astronauts. Others mentioned the Japanese Self-Defense Force and carpentry. Comedy was, unsurprisingly, another popular vocation. Not only was "comedian" one of the words we practiced, but Osaka is seen as the comedy capital (or should I say komedy kapital, nyuk nyuk?) of Japan. Nearly all of the performers on television are from the Kansai area and the dialect is closely associated with laughter. Note to Japanese students everywhere: using Kansai-ben is a sure-fire way to put a smile on a Japanese person's face.
Girls were tragically limited in their employment aspirations. At least 75% said they wanted to be a teacher of some kind. Most of them talked about work in a hoikuen (the Japanese equivalent of day care/nursery school) because they "love children." The remaining girls typically wanted to get into the makeover business: hairdressers, beauticians, fashion designers, make-up artists, nail artists, etc. A few entrepreneurs wanted to run their own bakery, flower shop, or clothing boutique. You see the pattern, right? All of the girls' interests are essentially hobbies and completely compatible with being a housewife. If that's what they really want, I'm not going to condemn them for it, but I hoped a few of them would aim their sights a bit higher. At the very least, I thought the recent high-profile coverage of Japanese female athletes (Ai Miyazato, Ai Fukuhara, and the 2008 Olympic softball team have been television mainstays for some time now) would draw a few girls into sports, but hardly any of them expressed any curiosity in athletics.
So what don't Japanese kids want to be when they grow up? The American standards of "doctor" and "lawyer" were ignored. Only one boy wanted to be an architect (which is what I wanted to be when I was in elementary school). For all their aesthetic talk, not a single girl wanted to be a model and I can only remember one mentioning acting or singing. And not a single student, boy or girl, said they wanted to be prime minister. I guess that shouldn't surprise me, seeing as how Japanese prime ministers have such fleeting cultural relevance (in two years I've seen two resign and the third is heading south in a hurry), but I can't help but think back to my childhood and how presidents and other political figures were so dominant. Yet when I suggested the idea early in the exercise, most students laughed. I think that's a bad sign.
But my favorite story of all this came on Tuesday when I was teaching my last class of the semester, specifically a large fifth grade class. They had actually memorized their presentations and so they were coming up in front of the class one by one and delivering their speeches pretty quickly. One boy got up and said "I want to be a yakuzaishi," which is Japanese for "pharmacist." But all I heard was "I want to be a Yakuza" and I kind of freaked out. Some quick follow-up questions made it clear that I was WAY OFF, and everyone had a laugh when they realized what I thought he said.
To think, I almost had Henry Hill as a student.
Labels: Japan, JET, predicting the future, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rubber Soul (-crushing Boredom)
They call it "the rubber room." There's more than one, of course, but just like "the post office" or "the bank," the rubber room looms over people through office gossip and spook stories. However, the rubber room is real. People go there everyday, and many of them will spend years in there. Waiting.
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
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Labels: JET, politics, postal service, This American Life, Write or Die
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Friday, March 06, 2009
ABC: Not as Easy as 123
"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." - John Lennon
I listen to the excellent This American Life weekly podcast and every episode gives me a lot to think about. I suspect that if I was diligent, I could write an entire post each week just reflecting on what I had heard. Maybe today will be the first of many such posts.
Ah, do you see what I did there? I started making plans. A recent episode was all about "Plan B," telling stories about people who found themselves mired in their backup plan and wondering how to get back on track. The first story was the one that stuck with me the most. John Hodgman (yes, the one you've seen on "The Daily Show" and the PC vs Mac ads) told a story about Cuervo Man, a guy who made his living as a "party catalyst" hocking tequila at bars and other social events. Cuervo Man happened to be a well-educated guy who always dreamed of being an actor and a series of unlikely events landed him what seemed like a dream job - being paid to drink booze and act like an ass so that others would be inclined to drink more booze. Although the job eventually wore him down (particularly once he stopped drinking out of concern for his health and state-of-mind), he came to respect it as a part of his Plan A - being an actor. He played a role, it just wasn't one with a script or any cameras.
I thought about this a lot this week, especially after something that happened yesterday at one of my larger schools. I make it a point to be BIG in the classroom. Not just in size (that's a given - these are children after all and I live in Japan) but in presence. I move around the room as much as possible, use broad, sweeping movements to punctuate what I say and I constantly point to myself to get the student's attention. So when a little girl yesterday stood in front of the class to do her presentation, she openly channeled/mocked me by waving her arms around with each word, speaking much louder than necessary and generally acting like a crazy person. It was a huge hit with the children and I was amused at how much thought she clearly had put into her act. I was also impressed at her presentation, since few students were able to audibly address their peers in English, but that's besides the point: watching her "zing" me by reflecting my own performance back to me, it forced me to consider what it is I do for a living. Am I on Plan A right now? What is my Plan A, honestly?
I mean, I obviously spent years going back to school so that I could apply for the JET Programme and get a job in Japan as an English teacher. I'm here, mission accomplished. But now what? Even as I studied and worked towards achieving this goal, I was thinking about what I wanted to do next. It was as if my goal was just another step towards a new goal, only I couldn't decide what the new goal was. Did I want to be a translator? Was I going to live in Japan for ten, twenty, forty years? I never actually answered these questions but they kicked around inside my head throughout my senior year.
So now I'm here. I'm teaching English to children in Japan. Is this what I want? I used to consider this job my gateway to a greater and more rewarding life in Japan as some kind of translator or (dare I say it) voice actor, Now, I don't want to say "never," but my lack of progress in studying Japanese has made me realize that becoming a translator in any professional sense is probably impossible. My listening skills are terrible and even if my reading skills were to improve (and that's a big if), it seems like any job worth taking would require a nearly-instantaneous Japanese-to-English response. There would be no time for dictionaries or late nights of exploring odd vocabulary. The translating life I led at school cannot exist in the working world. No one would pay me for doing what I did.
But this is not gloom and doom time. Rather, what that girl did yesterday helped me to recognize that I am, in fact, living out a dream I've had for years. I am more or less an actor right now. Think about it. I have never received any training as a teacher. Everything I do in the classroom is following direction or improvisation. I know the goal (as the Board of Education sees it) is English education, but let's get real here. These kids get so little time with me and that time is so non-academic that this is less of a teacher's role as it is an acting performance. I could do what I do on the streets of Osaka and people would start gathering around me and taking pictures. I'm a human statue that can't sit still, a mime that never shuts up, a busker with a steady gig inside a classroom. Things can always change, but for now this is Plan A.
Once again, this post was made possible with the Write or Die web app. If I keep this up, I wonder if my fantasy of becoming a writer may become the new Plan A?
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I listen to the excellent This American Life weekly podcast and every episode gives me a lot to think about. I suspect that if I was diligent, I could write an entire post each week just reflecting on what I had heard. Maybe today will be the first of many such posts.
Ah, do you see what I did there? I started making plans. A recent episode was all about "Plan B," telling stories about people who found themselves mired in their backup plan and wondering how to get back on track. The first story was the one that stuck with me the most. John Hodgman (yes, the one you've seen on "The Daily Show" and the PC vs Mac ads) told a story about Cuervo Man, a guy who made his living as a "party catalyst" hocking tequila at bars and other social events. Cuervo Man happened to be a well-educated guy who always dreamed of being an actor and a series of unlikely events landed him what seemed like a dream job - being paid to drink booze and act like an ass so that others would be inclined to drink more booze. Although the job eventually wore him down (particularly once he stopped drinking out of concern for his health and state-of-mind), he came to respect it as a part of his Plan A - being an actor. He played a role, it just wasn't one with a script or any cameras.
I thought about this a lot this week, especially after something that happened yesterday at one of my larger schools. I make it a point to be BIG in the classroom. Not just in size (that's a given - these are children after all and I live in Japan) but in presence. I move around the room as much as possible, use broad, sweeping movements to punctuate what I say and I constantly point to myself to get the student's attention. So when a little girl yesterday stood in front of the class to do her presentation, she openly channeled/mocked me by waving her arms around with each word, speaking much louder than necessary and generally acting like a crazy person. It was a huge hit with the children and I was amused at how much thought she clearly had put into her act. I was also impressed at her presentation, since few students were able to audibly address their peers in English, but that's besides the point: watching her "zing" me by reflecting my own performance back to me, it forced me to consider what it is I do for a living. Am I on Plan A right now? What is my Plan A, honestly?
I mean, I obviously spent years going back to school so that I could apply for the JET Programme and get a job in Japan as an English teacher. I'm here, mission accomplished. But now what? Even as I studied and worked towards achieving this goal, I was thinking about what I wanted to do next. It was as if my goal was just another step towards a new goal, only I couldn't decide what the new goal was. Did I want to be a translator? Was I going to live in Japan for ten, twenty, forty years? I never actually answered these questions but they kicked around inside my head throughout my senior year.
So now I'm here. I'm teaching English to children in Japan. Is this what I want? I used to consider this job my gateway to a greater and more rewarding life in Japan as some kind of translator or (dare I say it) voice actor, Now, I don't want to say "never," but my lack of progress in studying Japanese has made me realize that becoming a translator in any professional sense is probably impossible. My listening skills are terrible and even if my reading skills were to improve (and that's a big if), it seems like any job worth taking would require a nearly-instantaneous Japanese-to-English response. There would be no time for dictionaries or late nights of exploring odd vocabulary. The translating life I led at school cannot exist in the working world. No one would pay me for doing what I did.
But this is not gloom and doom time. Rather, what that girl did yesterday helped me to recognize that I am, in fact, living out a dream I've had for years. I am more or less an actor right now. Think about it. I have never received any training as a teacher. Everything I do in the classroom is following direction or improvisation. I know the goal (as the Board of Education sees it) is English education, but let's get real here. These kids get so little time with me and that time is so non-academic that this is less of a teacher's role as it is an acting performance. I could do what I do on the streets of Osaka and people would start gathering around me and taking pictures. I'm a human statue that can't sit still, a mime that never shuts up, a busker with a steady gig inside a classroom. Things can always change, but for now this is Plan A.
Once again, this post was made possible with the Write or Die web app. If I keep this up, I wonder if my fantasy of becoming a writer may become the new Plan A?
Labels: Japan, JET, teaching, This American Life, Write or Die, writing
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Wheeeee, Apocalypse!
Tragedy + technology * information = fun!
When I was first told in January about the "disaster preparedness tour" the JET Programme had arranged, my reaction was anything but excited. It was on a Saturday morning, meaning I would have to wake up with my alarm clock on a weekend (the horror!) and the dry description just wasn't appealing. I would have missed the deadline to sign-up had it not been an idle conversation with my supervisor on the last day to request a slot. Thank goodness I volunteered to go, because it was both informative and wildly entertaining.
The event was held at theDisaster Prevention Center "Life Safety Learning Center" in Abeno near Tennoji. Riding the subway downtown, my hopes were still low and I didn't know what to expect (remember what I said about expectations?) so I was a little worried about what we would do all morning. Would it just be a meeting in an office? Would there be little more than a list of items I should have on hand in the event of an emergency? In other words, could I have skipped the entire outing and slept in had they just e-mailed me their spiel?
I knew I had made the right call as soon as I saw the building. In a neighborhood full of apartment buildings and construction crews building new apartment buildings, the Center stood out with a eye-grabbing rounded front. My first instinct was to make an Aperture Science joke, but given the company I was in I figured it would fall flat. Still, as first impressions go this building had totally won me over. Its overall newness and sciencey-look had convinced me this would be worth it, if for no other reason than I suddenly had hopes there would an earthquake simulator.
Turns out there wasn't an earthquake simulator - there were two! The first was the opening of our tour. We sat in a theater and watched a brief movie about earthquakes in Osaka when - what are the odds? - an "earthquake" interrupted the movie. Once our seats stopped rocking we "evacuated" into a kitchen where we had to turn off all the potential hazards in a room. Earthquakes don't kill many people in Japan; it's the fires that often follow when gas lines leak and electric appliances ignite the gas. Remember Fight Club? Same thing here, only on a larger scale (and less fighting).
Leaving the kitchen, we had to navigate a smoke-filled hallway by crouching down and feeling the walls. A surveillance video later revealed one member of our group decided to simply walk through with her hand over her mouth, causing us all to "fail" the exercise. Outside of the hallway was a entire street of semi-demolished houses. Clearly, the center was not just giving us a dry run-through on what to do in the event of an earthquake. Their goal was to make us believe that we had just been in an earthquake and we were now dealing with the consequences. Their dedication to this fantasy was impressive by Walt Disney World standards, but considering this was all in the name of public service, I was blown away.
There was so much to see and not nearly as much time as I would have liked to fully absorb all the information and scenery that I was being presented with. There was a fire extinguisher lesson that included a fantastic game element where we used a simulated device to spray water on a "fire." There was a room with a dummy underneath a fallen bookshelf that we needed to rescue by jacking the shelf up and pulling the dummy free. The dummy had no hair and a gray shirt, making it look just like Michael Scofield from Prison Break, and once "Michael" was out he was retracted under the shelf again at the push of a button so the next group could try.
But the best was saved for last when our group stepped onto a metal platform and braced ourselves for simulations of actual earthquakes from Japanese history. We first got a taste of the 2005 quake in Miyagi Prefecture and then we were given a theoretical quake that is supposed to hit the Kansai area in the next thirty years. They were about to open the gate and thank us for coming when I stopped them and made a request: could they please let us feel the Great Hanshin Earthquake from 1995? Having been to Kobe many times and seen the photos and memorials, I wanted to get some idea of what happened that day. They obliged and fired up the machine one last time. I was surprised by how short it was, a single but powerful jolt followed by a few seconds of nearly unnoticeable shaking.
As giddy as I was getting off the platform, I had a rather unpleasant realization. The fabulous "ride" I had just experienced was entirely based upon major catastrophes. Real, deadly earthquakes that leveled cities, shattered families and killed thousands. I saw the list of available quakes and it included the 1923 Tokyo quake, the same one that Akira Kurosawa wrote about in his biography. He spoke of corpses piled in the streets. What would he think of people riding that same shockwave and giggling? What if some "hurricane center" had a Katrina simulation that sent patrons laughing through a torrent of water breaking through a virtual levee? Would it still be tasteless if it was preceded by a few hours of instruction on how to survive a major storm?
It's possible that I'm thinking too much about all this. It's also possible that I'm simply a monster who shouldn't have been amused by all that shaking. After all, the parting message was ultimately one of community. For all the loss of life in Kobe fourteen years ago, that fire had to start somewhere and maybe, just maybe, someone could have been there to put it out and prevent it from engulfing entire neighborhoods. Regardless of my anxieties, the Abeno Life Safety Learning Center is both a hell of a lot of fun and thoroughly educational. I can't promise that I will remember every thing I'm supposed to turn off in the event of an earthquake, but I am damn sure I would try and grab an extinguisher if I ever saw a fire.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
When I was first told in January about the "disaster preparedness tour" the JET Programme had arranged, my reaction was anything but excited. It was on a Saturday morning, meaning I would have to wake up with my alarm clock on a weekend (the horror!) and the dry description just wasn't appealing. I would have missed the deadline to sign-up had it not been an idle conversation with my supervisor on the last day to request a slot. Thank goodness I volunteered to go, because it was both informative and wildly entertaining.
The event was held at the
I knew I had made the right call as soon as I saw the building. In a neighborhood full of apartment buildings and construction crews building new apartment buildings, the Center stood out with a eye-grabbing rounded front. My first instinct was to make an Aperture Science joke, but given the company I was in I figured it would fall flat. Still, as first impressions go this building had totally won me over. Its overall newness and sciencey-look had convinced me this would be worth it, if for no other reason than I suddenly had hopes there would an earthquake simulator.
Turns out there wasn't an earthquake simulator - there were two! The first was the opening of our tour. We sat in a theater and watched a brief movie about earthquakes in Osaka when - what are the odds? - an "earthquake" interrupted the movie. Once our seats stopped rocking we "evacuated" into a kitchen where we had to turn off all the potential hazards in a room. Earthquakes don't kill many people in Japan; it's the fires that often follow when gas lines leak and electric appliances ignite the gas. Remember Fight Club? Same thing here, only on a larger scale (and less fighting).
Leaving the kitchen, we had to navigate a smoke-filled hallway by crouching down and feeling the walls. A surveillance video later revealed one member of our group decided to simply walk through with her hand over her mouth, causing us all to "fail" the exercise. Outside of the hallway was a entire street of semi-demolished houses. Clearly, the center was not just giving us a dry run-through on what to do in the event of an earthquake. Their goal was to make us believe that we had just been in an earthquake and we were now dealing with the consequences. Their dedication to this fantasy was impressive by Walt Disney World standards, but considering this was all in the name of public service, I was blown away.
There was so much to see and not nearly as much time as I would have liked to fully absorb all the information and scenery that I was being presented with. There was a fire extinguisher lesson that included a fantastic game element where we used a simulated device to spray water on a "fire." There was a room with a dummy underneath a fallen bookshelf that we needed to rescue by jacking the shelf up and pulling the dummy free. The dummy had no hair and a gray shirt, making it look just like Michael Scofield from Prison Break, and once "Michael" was out he was retracted under the shelf again at the push of a button so the next group could try.
But the best was saved for last when our group stepped onto a metal platform and braced ourselves for simulations of actual earthquakes from Japanese history. We first got a taste of the 2005 quake in Miyagi Prefecture and then we were given a theoretical quake that is supposed to hit the Kansai area in the next thirty years. They were about to open the gate and thank us for coming when I stopped them and made a request: could they please let us feel the Great Hanshin Earthquake from 1995? Having been to Kobe many times and seen the photos and memorials, I wanted to get some idea of what happened that day. They obliged and fired up the machine one last time. I was surprised by how short it was, a single but powerful jolt followed by a few seconds of nearly unnoticeable shaking.
As giddy as I was getting off the platform, I had a rather unpleasant realization. The fabulous "ride" I had just experienced was entirely based upon major catastrophes. Real, deadly earthquakes that leveled cities, shattered families and killed thousands. I saw the list of available quakes and it included the 1923 Tokyo quake, the same one that Akira Kurosawa wrote about in his biography. He spoke of corpses piled in the streets. What would he think of people riding that same shockwave and giggling? What if some "hurricane center" had a Katrina simulation that sent patrons laughing through a torrent of water breaking through a virtual levee? Would it still be tasteless if it was preceded by a few hours of instruction on how to survive a major storm?
It's possible that I'm thinking too much about all this. It's also possible that I'm simply a monster who shouldn't have been amused by all that shaking. After all, the parting message was ultimately one of community. For all the loss of life in Kobe fourteen years ago, that fire had to start somewhere and maybe, just maybe, someone could have been there to put it out and prevent it from engulfing entire neighborhoods. Regardless of my anxieties, the Abeno Life Safety Learning Center is both a hell of a lot of fun and thoroughly educational. I can't promise that I will remember every thing I'm supposed to turn off in the event of an earthquake, but I am damn sure I would try and grab an extinguisher if I ever saw a fire.
Labels: earthquake, Japan, JET, Osaka
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I GOTS to Get Paid
Cash...it's what pays for dinner.
The deadline for recontracting in the JET Programme recently passed last Friday. While I decided weeks ago that I should stay, it wasn't until this latest deadline that I would find out whether or not they concurred. Of course, having gone through all this last year and being much better at my job now as opposed to then, I should have been able to mellow out and not worry about my job, but when it comes to the approval of others logic simply escapes me.
It didn't help that the deadline came with no official word or slip of paper confirming or denying my request to recontract. I've gotten used to things being taken very slowly here in Hana Town, but I kind of hoped that a matter of this importance would be taken a bit more seriously. Looking back on it now, I suppose the totally lackadaisical attitude they have shown towards this process reflects the casualness with which they view my job. That's not a slight; I think this truly demonstrates how everyone at my Board of Education just assumes I'm here to stay, something that I hope I remember next year when I put myself through this anxiety all over again.
Oh, I guess I just jumped ahead there...yes, they have since verbally confirmed that they want me to stay another year. While I thought for a long time about whether or not it was a good thing that this job might never "end," it is certainly a good thing that it is not ending on someone else's terms nor will it end in the next six months.
In other monetary related news, I've added the first ever advertisement to feitclub.com. The banner on the right is for Play Asia, an online retailer I often use, particularly to import American editions of games I'd rather not play in Japanese or (more importantly) pay Japanese prices for. A great example is Street Fighter IV. Here in Japan it costs well over 8000 Yen (nearly $90 at present exchange rates) but I was able to buy a foreign edition on their site for 3000 Yen less.
Anyway, I use their service and it's good, so I figured why not promote it and possibly earn a dime or two in the process? It's a commission thing, not a page-view thing, so feel free to shop there if you want but there's no pressure to start clicking away for my sake. Kudos to Alex who told me about their affiliate program in the first place. You can do the same thing through his site, but only if you hate me...and Mako...and our baby.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
The deadline for recontracting in the JET Programme recently passed last Friday. While I decided weeks ago that I should stay, it wasn't until this latest deadline that I would find out whether or not they concurred. Of course, having gone through all this last year and being much better at my job now as opposed to then, I should have been able to mellow out and not worry about my job, but when it comes to the approval of others logic simply escapes me.
It didn't help that the deadline came with no official word or slip of paper confirming or denying my request to recontract. I've gotten used to things being taken very slowly here in Hana Town, but I kind of hoped that a matter of this importance would be taken a bit more seriously. Looking back on it now, I suppose the totally lackadaisical attitude they have shown towards this process reflects the casualness with which they view my job. That's not a slight; I think this truly demonstrates how everyone at my Board of Education just assumes I'm here to stay, something that I hope I remember next year when I put myself through this anxiety all over again.
Oh, I guess I just jumped ahead there...yes, they have since verbally confirmed that they want me to stay another year. While I thought for a long time about whether or not it was a good thing that this job might never "end," it is certainly a good thing that it is not ending on someone else's terms nor will it end in the next six months.
In other monetary related news, I've added the first ever advertisement to feitclub.com. The banner on the right is for Play Asia, an online retailer I often use, particularly to import American editions of games I'd rather not play in Japanese or (more importantly) pay Japanese prices for. A great example is Street Fighter IV. Here in Japan it costs well over 8000 Yen (nearly $90 at present exchange rates) but I was able to buy a foreign edition on their site for 3000 Yen less.
Anyway, I use their service and it's good, so I figured why not promote it and possibly earn a dime or two in the process? It's a commission thing, not a page-view thing, so feel free to shop there if you want but there's no pressure to start clicking away for my sake. Kudos to Alex who told me about their affiliate program in the first place. You can do the same thing through his site, but only if you hate me...and Mako...and our baby.
Labels: Alex, JET, site news, video games
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Term Limits
We had another one of those meetings yesterday that started well after school ended and ran for hours. It was productive and we talked a lot about the upcoming school year, both in Hana Town and the next town over, but by the time I got home I was exhausted. This has been one of the most draining weeks I've had and next week looks similarly stacked.
There is something that came up yesterday that I really wanted to write about, as it is an interesting addendum to the stuff I was talking about in my last post. One of my supervisors was at last night's meeting and we talked about general life stuff. She casually asked me, as so many other Japanese people do, if I planned to stay in Hana Town "for a long time" (the Japanese word she used was zutto). I'm never sure how to best answer this question but I was quick to point out that my time on JET is finite, so there would come I time when I would have to leave. She then told me that even though the JET Programme only allows for so many renewals, it would be possible to maintain my position with the town beyond the arbitrary cut-off point that JET adheres to. While I had heard talk of this from other JETs, this was the first time someone at my Board of Education ever brought it up, making it seem less like a "maybe you might be able to stay" statement and more like a "we want you here, please stay" request.
The notion that my JET tenure was finite had been looming over nearly all of my decisions for the past year or so. I knew I wanted this job and I was proud of having earned it after working so hard, so it felt silly to walk away from it before the formal end arrived. But now I'm hearing serious talk about there being no end, at least not a predetermined one, and that changes everything. My issues concerning how long I really want to be an English teacher are not magically erased by this news, but this is nevertheless a major change concerning my future job prospects. Suddenly there is no looming axe, no forced move, no mandatory job search or decision whether or not to return to America. I could, in theory, remain where I am for many years to come.
All of this begs the question: is this "good" news? My first instinct, rather rationally, is to say "You bet your ass it is." With thousands of people losing their jobs every week out there in the world, I have every right to be thankful that my own job appears secure for a longer stretch of time than I previously believed. On the other hand, I am a guy who doesn't handle change well, even when change is the most preferable option on the table. I spent six years working in the post office even though I knew it was the worst job imaginable after a matter of months. I stayed because the money was good and I didn't have anything better to do. My only way out was to walk away cold and go back to school. Here in Japan, I don't have those kinds of objections to teaching English but once again, the money is good and I don't have anything better to do. Do I have the courage to walk away again and try something else, to take a chance like I did in 2004, in order to improve my quality of life? Maybe a deadline was important to keeping me honest about what I want in life.
Either way, this is not the kind of news that demands immediate action. It is a big deal, yes, but I'm still going to work on Monday and I'm still hoping to get that contract extension I requested. But like little DJ, this news will only get bigger as time goes on. Am I prepared to deal with the consequences? I have no idea.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
There is something that came up yesterday that I really wanted to write about, as it is an interesting addendum to the stuff I was talking about in my last post. One of my supervisors was at last night's meeting and we talked about general life stuff. She casually asked me, as so many other Japanese people do, if I planned to stay in Hana Town "for a long time" (the Japanese word she used was zutto). I'm never sure how to best answer this question but I was quick to point out that my time on JET is finite, so there would come I time when I would have to leave. She then told me that even though the JET Programme only allows for so many renewals, it would be possible to maintain my position with the town beyond the arbitrary cut-off point that JET adheres to. While I had heard talk of this from other JETs, this was the first time someone at my Board of Education ever brought it up, making it seem less like a "maybe you might be able to stay" statement and more like a "we want you here, please stay" request.
The notion that my JET tenure was finite had been looming over nearly all of my decisions for the past year or so. I knew I wanted this job and I was proud of having earned it after working so hard, so it felt silly to walk away from it before the formal end arrived. But now I'm hearing serious talk about there being no end, at least not a predetermined one, and that changes everything. My issues concerning how long I really want to be an English teacher are not magically erased by this news, but this is nevertheless a major change concerning my future job prospects. Suddenly there is no looming axe, no forced move, no mandatory job search or decision whether or not to return to America. I could, in theory, remain where I am for many years to come.
All of this begs the question: is this "good" news? My first instinct, rather rationally, is to say "You bet your ass it is." With thousands of people losing their jobs every week out there in the world, I have every right to be thankful that my own job appears secure for a longer stretch of time than I previously believed. On the other hand, I am a guy who doesn't handle change well, even when change is the most preferable option on the table. I spent six years working in the post office even though I knew it was the worst job imaginable after a matter of months. I stayed because the money was good and I didn't have anything better to do. My only way out was to walk away cold and go back to school. Here in Japan, I don't have those kinds of objections to teaching English but once again, the money is good and I don't have anything better to do. Do I have the courage to walk away again and try something else, to take a chance like I did in 2004, in order to improve my quality of life? Maybe a deadline was important to keeping me honest about what I want in life.
Either way, this is not the kind of news that demands immediate action. It is a big deal, yes, but I'm still going to work on Monday and I'm still hoping to get that contract extension I requested. But like little DJ, this news will only get bigger as time goes on. Am I prepared to deal with the consequences? I have no idea.
Labels: Japan, JET, job hunting, predicting the future
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Feels Like Progress
As January comes to a close and the deep chill of February creeps ever closer, things are really heating up at work. I had ten classes plus an extended meeting in one 48-hour period, more responsibilities than I had all of last week. With next week looking just as hectic I am very tired but at the same time relieved to be doing my part. Too much idle time in the office (especially a Japanese office) makes me feel like a freeloader.
Speaking of freeloaders, my unborn child is still loafing around the womb and doing a number on Mako's insides. She had a few weeks where DJ was relatively dormant and her spirits were up as a result, but lately he or she has started squirming and kicking which leaves her feeling tired much more often. It's not as bad as it was in the first trimester - she's not sleeping in as much nor is she chained to the couch when I get home - but the suddenly energetic DJ has certainly sapped some of her strength. Sadly, DJ is still too small for me to feel anything with my hand, but that hasn't stopped me from constantly groping Mako's belly in the hope of getting some sensation of movement in there.
Getting back to the subject of getting back to work, I have to admit that conditions at school are showing signs of real improvement. After my optimism last semester was soundly smashed, I couldn't help but head into this semester with a sense of pessimism. It wasn't so bad as to sour me on this job, because if it was I wouldn't have requested a new contract, but it hung over my winter break and left me feeling uneasy about the prospect of going back to work. Instead, this semester's English plans were quickly distributed to all schools and the materials I needed were (almost) entirely printed and prepared in advance of my first day. After we had another demonstration lesson yesterday we had a long meeting and several teachers said how important it is to have the homeroom teacher be more active in English class rather than just let me (the assistant teacher by definition) handle everything. Even though I've heard this kind of talk since day one, the progress in lesson preparation makes me wonder if we might make progress in the classroom as well.
Personally I feel good about the progress I've made, both as a teacher and as a "presence" in these schools. Nearly all the students know me by name at this point and no one has called me any other names in months. I'm still sorely lacking in both the language and confidence department to truly integrate myself with my coworkers, but I'm doing a better job of just talking to other people whenever I'm sitting in the office. You'd be surprised at how many conversations I've had in recent weeks about Obama and the state of the American economy, considering I don't know enough about economics to discuss it in English let alone Japanese. I may never be able to completely fit in, especially since I'm spread across five different schools at this point, but the more people see me as a person rather than just an ALT - a commodity, a mercenary, a "striker" if you will - the better my professional relationships will be.
As far as the students go, I've found that language isn't as important as body language. I've been pushing myself to just do more, both in the classroom and in the hallways. Whether I'm having children repeat after me or just walking from class to class, I try to use as much motion as I possibly can. Waving my arms, clapping my hands, jumping up and down, even striking outrageous poses - I look ridiculous but it guarantees that the children notice me and pay more attention. This has also gone towards improving my relationship with the teachers because they are definitely impressed by my progress as a teacher and offering me a lot more compliments as a result.
So here I am, seventeen months into my tenure on JET and I'm actually starting to get used to it just as my coworkers are getting used to me. At this rate, I may actually be good at this job before my time is up. Imagine that!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Speaking of freeloaders, my unborn child is still loafing around the womb and doing a number on Mako's insides. She had a few weeks where DJ was relatively dormant and her spirits were up as a result, but lately he or she has started squirming and kicking which leaves her feeling tired much more often. It's not as bad as it was in the first trimester - she's not sleeping in as much nor is she chained to the couch when I get home - but the suddenly energetic DJ has certainly sapped some of her strength. Sadly, DJ is still too small for me to feel anything with my hand, but that hasn't stopped me from constantly groping Mako's belly in the hope of getting some sensation of movement in there.
Getting back to the subject of getting back to work, I have to admit that conditions at school are showing signs of real improvement. After my optimism last semester was soundly smashed, I couldn't help but head into this semester with a sense of pessimism. It wasn't so bad as to sour me on this job, because if it was I wouldn't have requested a new contract, but it hung over my winter break and left me feeling uneasy about the prospect of going back to work. Instead, this semester's English plans were quickly distributed to all schools and the materials I needed were (almost) entirely printed and prepared in advance of my first day. After we had another demonstration lesson yesterday we had a long meeting and several teachers said how important it is to have the homeroom teacher be more active in English class rather than just let me (the assistant teacher by definition) handle everything. Even though I've heard this kind of talk since day one, the progress in lesson preparation makes me wonder if we might make progress in the classroom as well.
Personally I feel good about the progress I've made, both as a teacher and as a "presence" in these schools. Nearly all the students know me by name at this point and no one has called me any other names in months. I'm still sorely lacking in both the language and confidence department to truly integrate myself with my coworkers, but I'm doing a better job of just talking to other people whenever I'm sitting in the office. You'd be surprised at how many conversations I've had in recent weeks about Obama and the state of the American economy, considering I don't know enough about economics to discuss it in English let alone Japanese. I may never be able to completely fit in, especially since I'm spread across five different schools at this point, but the more people see me as a person rather than just an ALT - a commodity, a mercenary, a "striker" if you will - the better my professional relationships will be.
As far as the students go, I've found that language isn't as important as body language. I've been pushing myself to just do more, both in the classroom and in the hallways. Whether I'm having children repeat after me or just walking from class to class, I try to use as much motion as I possibly can. Waving my arms, clapping my hands, jumping up and down, even striking outrageous poses - I look ridiculous but it guarantees that the children notice me and pay more attention. This has also gone towards improving my relationship with the teachers because they are definitely impressed by my progress as a teacher and offering me a lot more compliments as a result.
So here I am, seventeen months into my tenure on JET and I'm actually starting to get used to it just as my coworkers are getting used to me. At this rate, I may actually be good at this job before my time is up. Imagine that!
Labels: Japan, JET, pregnancy, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wasted Wish
Of all the things I could have wished for this morning, why the hell did I choose snow?
This morning started out pretty typically: I woke up grumbling at the sound of my alarm clock, spent five or ten minutes shivering while trying to warm myself in front of the gas heater, then I prepared and ate my breakfast before checking my e-mail, Twitter and the latest stuff on Google Reader. I was quite surprised when I saw this post on Chad's blog and saw that it had snowed in Nagasaki. Not just snow, but snow with a decent amount of accumulation. Midway through his first winter here, Chad had somehow seen more snow at his home than I had seen in two winters here. This is even more annoying when you consider that Chad lives much further south than me in an area where snow is considered unusual. The whole thing felt wrong to me and I told Chad as much in a comment.
It wasn't more than fifteen minutes later when Mako told me that it was snowing outside - snowing quite a bit in fact. I cheered up in a hurry and bundled up, even grabbing my oh-so-snug Russian winter hat before heading out the door. After a gray and wet haze hung over our area last week, this morning seemed to be the perfect antidote. Sure, it was still cold, but I didn't need an umbrella to walk in the snow. If anything I walked even slower so I could catch a few flakes on my tongue and marvel at the thin white coating on my neighborhood.
Once I got off the train and walked to the bus stop, I suddenly realized that I was an idiot. The streets around the station were sloppy with snow and slush and all the vehicles were moving extremely slowly. In fact, the bus wasn't even in position yet because it had only just arrived at the station (putting it about seven minutes late) and was still dropping off passengers. My excitement for winter and snow had obscured the fact that I had to ride the bus into the rural northern reaches of Osaka to get to work and buses are notoriously unreliable in this weather that I had implicitly wished for.
The bus may have arrived late to the station but we left on time and had little trouble making our way out of the city and onto the narrow road that leads to Hana Town. I relaxed as we made good time as the snow seemed to offer little resistance. I started thinking ahead to lunchtime and recess and the possibility of playing with the students in the snow, an easy way to get closer to the kids at a school where I am not as accepted as I would like to be. For a little while, my wish for snow became a good idea again.
Around that time was when the bus stopped. Not abruptly or screechingly, but it stopped just as we were entering a tunnel. Being well-outside the city limits and any traffic signals, the stop got my attention. I leaned into the aisle to look out the front windows and I saw a row of brake lights tailing away into the darkness ahead. Whatever was happening, we were stopped and so was every other car visible to us. There was no shoulder, no cross-streets, not even room to turn around. We were stopped and we would stay that way until we could go again, nothing more.
I doubt it took me more than five minutes to realize that there was no possible way I was going to arrive at work on time. Today's school is one of the more remote ones and I must ride the bus past two of the other, larger schools in order to reach it. I debated with myself whom to contact and what to tell them - all the while considering what Japanese vocabulary I needed and how polite I should attempt to word my excuse - when a painfully obviously problem actually became obvious to me: I was stuck in a tunnel heading out into the sticks so my mobile phone had no signal at all.
The idea that I would be both late for work and unavailable for contact made me more than a little nervous. I knew the road ahead well and while it wasn't one solid tunnel all the way up to Hana Town, I knew it was a small road without much on it besides tunnels and bridges and something that looked like a lumber yard. Not knowing any alternatives, I typed a message into my phone and just waited, hoping that we might manage to creep forward out of the tunnel allowing to transmit the bad news.
We did start moving at some point, but it wasn't very fast or very far. As we approached the end of the tunnel, I revised my apology/explanation e-mail to incorporate the fact that I was already late, rather than just going to be late if the bus didn't pick up speed. As we emerged from the tunnel I looked at my signal indicator. No change. We edged forward and I kept looking, but nothing happened. We were outside but still too far from society to pick up anything. As we nudged forward and into a second tunnel, I started to get much more nervous. It wouldn't be long before first period started and no one at school had any idea where I was or why I wasn't already there. Sending an e-mail to explain what happened struck me as so futile it bordered on insulting, no matter how flowery I managed to write it.
Sometime after we left that tunnel, I finally managed to send out my message while we stood motionless on a tiny bridge. I knew this sort of thing wasn't a fireable offense but that didn't stop my brain from making illogical leap after illogical leap. Now I wasn't just nervous about being late, I was nervous about not reaching school at all. I wasn't even in Hana Town yet and the weather was clearly a problem. What hopes did I have to make it over the hills to reach my relatively remote destination? Taking things to an even greater (and crazier) extreme, I started to wonder what would happen if the bus ran out of gas. We seemed to be stuck in an area with zero options for fuel or detours, so how many hours would the bus be able to keep the engine running? Would we have to shut it down periodically to conserve fuel?
Around the time I managed to send this message to Twitter, I caught a glimpse of the problem that lay ahead. In the middle of a narrow bridge, out here between two tunnels, there was some kind of accident or obstruction. The traffic snarl was not directly weather-related as I had been assuming, it was instead a result of some other misfortune which may or may not have been caused by the snow. When we finally got close enough to maneuver around the stoppage, I saw a single car in our lane facing the wrong way with its front left end torn open. There were no signs of any passengers or emergency vehicles. I'll never find out what exactly happened but the lack of a second car at the scene suggests the driver crashed on his own due to the slick conditions.
Once we made it past that point, things went pretty smoothly. The snowfall had almost stopped and the roads were reasonably clear. We had to stop once more when a truck ahead of us suddenly decided he wasn't going to Hana Town anymore so he turned around at the first opportunity, delaying everyone behind him by another four minutes or so. At this point I was already a full half-hour late with a fair amount of distance to go so I was less angry than I was exhausted. I remember looking him in the eye as he passed us going the other way and thinking "Really, asshole? What are you, a quitter?"
I ended up arriving at school almost exactly one hour late. When I entered the office and started apologizing (rule number one in Japan: always apologize no matter what), they made it clear they understood. As it turns out, I didn't have any classes that first period anyway and I had managed to arrive just in time to teach my second period lesson, which I did. Unfortunately, the snow didn't last until lunchtime so my I never got the chance to have any winter fun. All I got was winter aggravation.
It would seem that as far as my job was concerned, it was as if nothing had happened. Certainly that's what all the evidence seems to suggest, but much like that single car accident I'll never know for sure. It is entirely possible that I have, in fact, violated some unspoken rule and they will never trust me again, nor will they ever discuss what happened with me while quietly disapproving of my actions to all the other teachers in Hana Town. This being Japan, I wish I could tell you that was just crazy talk.
Angryface Postscript: When I got home, I got a response from the teacher I was e-mailing this morning to explain that I was late. He didn't check his mail until after work was finished, which means everyone at work was left wondering where the hell I was. Thanks a lot!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
This morning started out pretty typically: I woke up grumbling at the sound of my alarm clock, spent five or ten minutes shivering while trying to warm myself in front of the gas heater, then I prepared and ate my breakfast before checking my e-mail, Twitter and the latest stuff on Google Reader. I was quite surprised when I saw this post on Chad's blog and saw that it had snowed in Nagasaki. Not just snow, but snow with a decent amount of accumulation. Midway through his first winter here, Chad had somehow seen more snow at his home than I had seen in two winters here. This is even more annoying when you consider that Chad lives much further south than me in an area where snow is considered unusual. The whole thing felt wrong to me and I told Chad as much in a comment.
It wasn't more than fifteen minutes later when Mako told me that it was snowing outside - snowing quite a bit in fact. I cheered up in a hurry and bundled up, even grabbing my oh-so-snug Russian winter hat before heading out the door. After a gray and wet haze hung over our area last week, this morning seemed to be the perfect antidote. Sure, it was still cold, but I didn't need an umbrella to walk in the snow. If anything I walked even slower so I could catch a few flakes on my tongue and marvel at the thin white coating on my neighborhood.
Once I got off the train and walked to the bus stop, I suddenly realized that I was an idiot. The streets around the station were sloppy with snow and slush and all the vehicles were moving extremely slowly. In fact, the bus wasn't even in position yet because it had only just arrived at the station (putting it about seven minutes late) and was still dropping off passengers. My excitement for winter and snow had obscured the fact that I had to ride the bus into the rural northern reaches of Osaka to get to work and buses are notoriously unreliable in this weather that I had implicitly wished for.
The bus may have arrived late to the station but we left on time and had little trouble making our way out of the city and onto the narrow road that leads to Hana Town. I relaxed as we made good time as the snow seemed to offer little resistance. I started thinking ahead to lunchtime and recess and the possibility of playing with the students in the snow, an easy way to get closer to the kids at a school where I am not as accepted as I would like to be. For a little while, my wish for snow became a good idea again.
Around that time was when the bus stopped. Not abruptly or screechingly, but it stopped just as we were entering a tunnel. Being well-outside the city limits and any traffic signals, the stop got my attention. I leaned into the aisle to look out the front windows and I saw a row of brake lights tailing away into the darkness ahead. Whatever was happening, we were stopped and so was every other car visible to us. There was no shoulder, no cross-streets, not even room to turn around. We were stopped and we would stay that way until we could go again, nothing more.
I doubt it took me more than five minutes to realize that there was no possible way I was going to arrive at work on time. Today's school is one of the more remote ones and I must ride the bus past two of the other, larger schools in order to reach it. I debated with myself whom to contact and what to tell them - all the while considering what Japanese vocabulary I needed and how polite I should attempt to word my excuse - when a painfully obviously problem actually became obvious to me: I was stuck in a tunnel heading out into the sticks so my mobile phone had no signal at all.
The idea that I would be both late for work and unavailable for contact made me more than a little nervous. I knew the road ahead well and while it wasn't one solid tunnel all the way up to Hana Town, I knew it was a small road without much on it besides tunnels and bridges and something that looked like a lumber yard. Not knowing any alternatives, I typed a message into my phone and just waited, hoping that we might manage to creep forward out of the tunnel allowing to transmit the bad news.
We did start moving at some point, but it wasn't very fast or very far. As we approached the end of the tunnel, I revised my apology/explanation e-mail to incorporate the fact that I was already late, rather than just going to be late if the bus didn't pick up speed. As we emerged from the tunnel I looked at my signal indicator. No change. We edged forward and I kept looking, but nothing happened. We were outside but still too far from society to pick up anything. As we nudged forward and into a second tunnel, I started to get much more nervous. It wouldn't be long before first period started and no one at school had any idea where I was or why I wasn't already there. Sending an e-mail to explain what happened struck me as so futile it bordered on insulting, no matter how flowery I managed to write it.
Sometime after we left that tunnel, I finally managed to send out my message while we stood motionless on a tiny bridge. I knew this sort of thing wasn't a fireable offense but that didn't stop my brain from making illogical leap after illogical leap. Now I wasn't just nervous about being late, I was nervous about not reaching school at all. I wasn't even in Hana Town yet and the weather was clearly a problem. What hopes did I have to make it over the hills to reach my relatively remote destination? Taking things to an even greater (and crazier) extreme, I started to wonder what would happen if the bus ran out of gas. We seemed to be stuck in an area with zero options for fuel or detours, so how many hours would the bus be able to keep the engine running? Would we have to shut it down periodically to conserve fuel?
Around the time I managed to send this message to Twitter, I caught a glimpse of the problem that lay ahead. In the middle of a narrow bridge, out here between two tunnels, there was some kind of accident or obstruction. The traffic snarl was not directly weather-related as I had been assuming, it was instead a result of some other misfortune which may or may not have been caused by the snow. When we finally got close enough to maneuver around the stoppage, I saw a single car in our lane facing the wrong way with its front left end torn open. There were no signs of any passengers or emergency vehicles. I'll never find out what exactly happened but the lack of a second car at the scene suggests the driver crashed on his own due to the slick conditions.
Once we made it past that point, things went pretty smoothly. The snowfall had almost stopped and the roads were reasonably clear. We had to stop once more when a truck ahead of us suddenly decided he wasn't going to Hana Town anymore so he turned around at the first opportunity, delaying everyone behind him by another four minutes or so. At this point I was already a full half-hour late with a fair amount of distance to go so I was less angry than I was exhausted. I remember looking him in the eye as he passed us going the other way and thinking "Really, asshole? What are you, a quitter?"
I ended up arriving at school almost exactly one hour late. When I entered the office and started apologizing (rule number one in Japan: always apologize no matter what), they made it clear they understood. As it turns out, I didn't have any classes that first period anyway and I had managed to arrive just in time to teach my second period lesson, which I did. Unfortunately, the snow didn't last until lunchtime so my I never got the chance to have any winter fun. All I got was winter aggravation.
It would seem that as far as my job was concerned, it was as if nothing had happened. Certainly that's what all the evidence seems to suggest, but much like that single car accident I'll never know for sure. It is entirely possible that I have, in fact, violated some unspoken rule and they will never trust me again, nor will they ever discuss what happened with me while quietly disapproving of my actions to all the other teachers in Hana Town. This being Japan, I wish I could tell you that was just crazy talk.
Angryface Postscript: When I got home, I got a response from the teacher I was e-mailing this morning to explain that I was late. He didn't check his mail until after work was finished, which means everyone at work was left wondering where the hell I was. Thanks a lot!
Labels: Chad, friends, Japan, JET, snow
つづく...(Click here to read more)
