Witty Title Here

Yojimbo: A Samurai Classic

2011-02-03T09:33:00.004+09:00

Can we talk about how I love old samurai movies?

Ok, let's not. I wouldn't have much to say, other than the fact that I've recently watched one and enjoyed it thoroughly. Yojimbo is about a masterless samurai who comes to a town overrun by two competing gangs and, through wits and trickery, pits the two against each other to clear out the town. (It is also the movie off of which Clint Eastwood based his :A Fistful of Dollars:, which sounds impressive despite the fact that it's another movie I've not seen.)

Better than the story, though, is how the samurai, Sanjuro, walks with his arms in his kimono. It's nothing unusual or new - back in the day, samurai would tuck their arms in to the body of their kimono. People say this was so they could stay warm, but come on - I'm sure it's so they could look hilariously bad-ass. (Or armless. Same difference, really.)

Sanjuro takes your average hide-and-go-seek arms and kicks it up a notch. How could you possibly make putting arms in one's kimono more classy, you say? Why, how about a little...

CHIN SCRATCH?

(Man, I love samurai movies.)

Emails and Etiquette

2011-01-19T09:59:00.004+09:00

I recently read a comic by TheOatmeal that perfectly summarized my treatment of email:
Why Some Emails Go Unanswered
(Apparently, I'm not alone in this behavior.)

I wonder if people did the same thing during the era when physically-written letters were the only way to communicate at a distance. It calls to my mind several scenes from Pride and Prejudice (which probably tells you just a little something about my mind). For example, the letter from Darcy to Lizzy would naturally require a response post-haste - such comments could not be ignored! And yet, letters from Mr. Collins might find themselves in the "oh, that post must have been lost - who can trust letter carriers these days?" category. (I'm sure he could quote many a line from Lady Catherine on letter carriers in response.)

In the end, I'll keep ignoring that one email I always have in my inbox, sad and alone, waiting for a response, until I finally grow a spine (or, even worse, become a responsible adult. *shudders*)

New Year's Resolution

2011-01-10T12:25:00.003+09:00

I'm not usually one for resolutions at the start of the new year. I'm much more a fan of the Japanese tradition: clean the house completely, clear your head, and get ready for everything to be a new start. In America, the tradition of looking back and regretting or attempting to rectify what one's already done is a little too focused on what has happened and is not as focused on what should be.

Despite this propensity, I had a good enough idea for this year that I had to follow through with it.

It probably won't surprise any of my readers to hear that I am a craft-aholic. I have tried most everything, from clay sculptures to chainmaille, beading to embroidery, cross-stitch to crochet. In fact, I have had to devote a blog to cataloging projects I've found and would like to attempt (http://metahausfrau.blogspot.com). I'm just not happy without a craft project upon which to fall back should I have a few spare moments. I say "a craft project," but I should say "a blue million projects." I'm pretty bad about starting a project and, if I don't finish it in the first push of excitement over it, letting it fall to the wayside. It isn't that they are bad projects, or ones not worth finishing; it's just that I have too many ideas upon which I want to act, and a new project always holds more excitement than one that is started and taking a little longer than expected, requires a little more attention than previously thought, etc.

My resolution is simple: to finish projects I've started. I've started a small notebook, with each page dedicated to a different project I've started but not yet completed. Once I finish a project, I check it off and move on to the next project. I'm also not allowing myself to add a new project until I'm down to one or two remainders in my book, which is perhaps the best incentive of all. In a perfect world, I would continue to operate with only three or four projects at a given time. This would allow me the freedom to switch off of a project with which I was getting frustrated (for example, a long-term crochet or knit project), while still forcing me to finish as many projects as I start. We'll see how long that idea lasts...

Still, I'm proud to say that I have finished two projects in full since I started this system around a week ago. Granted, I have another ten or so left in my book, but I'm chipping away at them, slowly but surely. It's nice to have them finished, and, even better, I get an uplifting sense of accomplishment with every large check mark in the book.

So, dear readers, what are your resolutions this year?

It's a little horrifying to see how many projects I am "actively working on."

Strange dreams

2010-11-03T11:45:00.006+09:00

I recently have experienced a number of very odd dreams, ranging from the innocuous (like dreaming that I was handing someone a blank application to fill out and realizing, as I turned at my desk, that I was instead rolling over in my sleep) to the outright bizarre. My dream from last night falls into this latter category, and I can't help but share it.

I was walking in an open hallway when I suddenly was caught up in a mass of people heading toward a large room/small auditorium. It became clear along the way that all the students (of which I evidently was one) were being gathered for their thesis presentations, and along with this came my realization that I not only had not written my thesis yet, but I had not even begun any preparations for writing the thesis. I pulled out a large book (probably with 200 or 300 pages), which was evidently a prompt book to assist with writing the thesis, and not a single page had been filled in.

In an understandable state of panic, I was ushered into the room along with the swell of students around me and began to notice specific friends and acquaintances, all of whom were clearly prepared for their presentations. Apparently, writing a masters is, in my subconscious, like writing an in-class essay - you're given a range of topics and prepare all of them so you can answer whichever essay question the teacher assigns in class. In this case, my Vikings professor from senior year of college came to the front of the class and announced that we would be presenting a Norse-style saga.

A student came forward and began showing his saga; intimidatingly, this was in the form of a movie which he wrote, directed, and in which he starred. As this frightening evidence of how far behind I was rolled on the screen at the front of the class, I frantically began planning my own presentation. I would have to go with a story-teller mode, of course, not having anything better planned. Unfortunately, my status as a raconteur is shaky at best, so I decided to provide an existing story from an unusual point of view.

Here's what I had (in a bare-bones sense):

There was a beast, a demon monster who terrorized the king's domain. This monster was born to a human mother but in the presence of beasts, and with such a beginning he could not fail to exhibit odd powers: he could walk for miles in desert without suffering; he could create mud demons; he could and did strike down his opponents with unnatural forces. The king feared for his people and rightly so - the monster was gathering an army, preparing to attack with great force.

The wise ring-bearer called upon a champion, a warrior proven in battle and of great strength, to free the kingdom of this foul beast. This warrior went into the town, subverted the power of the monster, and flushed him out into the open and away from his army. The warrior, proud of his conquest, marched his captured prey through the town. Then, not unlike Beowulf with the arm of Grendel, he hung the monster such that all could see him.

It was then that the centurion pierced Jesus in his side with a lance.

At this point, I woke from my dream and realized, with great relief, that I was freed from the obligation of producing thesis-worthy material out of thin air/turning the New Testament into a Norse saga from the Roman's point of view.

I present all of this as a lead-in to the following conclusion, made minutes after I woke:

Either my subconscious mind is insanely creative, or I need to find out how it is getting access to illegal drugs.*

* This is a joke. Please laugh.

Work Ethic

2010-07-31T17:54:00.003+09:00

[Before I begin, I feel obliged to note that I've just published a few posts that were sitting, unpublished but 99% finished, in my Blogspot queue. These are all post-dated, so I'm going to link them here in case anyone feels the need to have read each and every one of my beautiful pieces of prose:

- Read On, True Believers!

- So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye...

- My Name is Leslie, and I Love Karaoke

- On Bullying

And now, back to our regularly scheduled post.]

Work has been insanely busy as of late. I'm currently working as an office manager in an apartment complex near NC State, which means that the summer is on the whole the busiest time of year: students move out, students look for new housing, students move in. Unfortunately for us, each week has been busier than the one proceeding it, and will continue to do so until school starts on 18 August. That disclaimer being noted, things definitely hit a new high yesterday. Over 60 apartments were scheduled to be moved into either the 30th (Friday), the 31st (Saturday), or the 1st of August (Sunday); as the office is not open on weekends, I and my two fellows had to get leases signed, keys cut and allotted, and parking passes assigned to all of those people. Though we did manage to survive, we're not out of the clear yet: an insane number of people will be moving out over the weekend, as it is the 31st, so we can count on having a lot of paperwork to process on Monday as well.

All of this stress and hard work has been altering my personal life, as my post-work life seems to have been taken over by the strains. A lot of this is because I am, on the whole, of worrying stock - it's hard for me to let go of the things I have to do just because the office door is locked behind me. Another aspect of it is that I fall on the introverted side of the personality scale: I need time alone to recharge and, with a strong and consistent strain, the time necessary to reset my personality grows exponentially. Add to that a heavy dose of personal pride in the work I produce, and thereby a need for it to be right, and you have a pretty strong concoction of Leslie-Going-Crazy.

That being said, Stephen pointed out something that I find intriguing, even though I don't necessarily agree with it. An employer, he said, would naturally value any employee who put a lot of personal pride and effort in to their work, as it would ensure not only quality work but an employee who would diligently work long hours providing it was for the good of the work produced. However, when it comes to the employee, it is not necessarily a good trait: for me, someone who does not plan to make a career of this job/in this field, it seems that I'm putting myself through an unhealthy amount of strain and punishment for the same rewards I would receive were I not so stressed and caught up in my work.

While I understand the point he makes, it still seems to me that I am reaping benefits above and beyond what I would were I not so concerned. Practice makes perfect: will I be able to put in effort when it was important if I did not practice such behavior now? There's also the matter of references: what if a glowing recommendation from my current employer gets me that career-worthy job? Nevertheless, I don't like that I have been for several weeks now too stressed to socialize well. The past three or four days were particularly bad; I created a deeply rutted path from work to my apartment because I declined invitations to deviate from that route - I went to work, came home, spent a few hours gathering myself before passing out at 10:30, and then went to work again the next day and repeated the cycle once more. Though I can tell myself that this is just a bad stretch, that after school starts it won't be like this in the office again until next summer, I cannot fully disregard the point that Stephen makes.

So, dear readers, what are your thoughts? Where should one's priorities lie?

Read on, true believers!

2010-07-21T08:30:00.000+09:00

The past seven weeks have been successful ones in so far as my goals of socializing are concerned. I've had dinner with my Gymboree comrades, attended two book club meetings, witnessed a matrimonial union, and have on the whole been quite the social creature.

The biggest triumph of my social life as of late was being partner/host-in-crime with Stephen in the holding of a 4th of July party. We held it in honor of the death of Jubilee, the most worthless X-men ever.

Jubilation Lee, codename Jubilee, was made prominent in the 90's cartoon version of the X-Men. Her power: shooting weak sparks from her fingers. (I feel obliged to note that whining and running away from home whenever possible, while not normally super powers, were certainly possessed to a super-strength degree when it came to Jubilee). After a few episodes it becomes clear that her only use is as mutant bait: whenever the X-men needed a distraction, Jubilee runs out and sparklers anyone within sight, distracting them from the mutant of worth who was sneaking up from behind to incapacitate them.

Though our hatred of Jubilee was inspired by many an episode of X-men, her death itself arose from one particular episode: an alternate future wherein mutants are put in concentration camps and all of the original X-men team are dead but one, Wolverine. As Wolverine is being brought into the mutant prison, a panning shot of the courtyard shows tombstones as its only decor. The familiar names of the X-men team adorn many of these, and there, standing out in glory for all to see, is one graced with two blessed words: "JUBILEE d.2010" (3:45 to 3:50 on the linked video).

Here it was, 2010: the year of Jubilee's death. Celebration was in order! And what better day to celebrate the death of a glorified sparkler than the 4th of July?

There were three essential aspects to the party:
1. Fireworks. We celebrated in the parking lot with a 50-count box of sparklers and a firework-stuffed effigy. As is tradition, I did my mother's Sparkler Dance.
2. X-men. We played the cartoon series as well as the movies throughout the night.
3. And, of course, drinks. What would an adult-themed party of nostalgia be without them? An extensive menu of 13 different drinks was created by myself, Stephen, and fellow nerd Brent; each drink was named for a character from the show and somehow connected to them. Though some things could be figured out (the "Mystique" drink was sure to involve blue curacao, for example), none of our party-goers were apprised of the contents before their drink was ordered.

(Pictures of the menu to follow...)

In addition to having a variety of drinks on the menu, we had three achievements for the night: The Apocalypse (drinking all 3 villain drinks), the Professor X (drinking all 7 X-men drinks), and the Nightcrawler (accomplishing the Apocalypse and the Professor X, upon which, we surmised, one would be inclined to black out in one place and wake up in another. [If you're a nerd, you'll find this hilarious.])

A not-so-essential aspect to the party, but great nevertheless: our party favors rocked! While supplies lasted, each of our party attendants was given a glass with the X-men logo etched on it and "Jubilee Dies 2010" written underneath the logo. (The glasses were the result of my recently having bought a lifetime supply of glass-etching paste and having not nearly enough glass upon which to exercise my newfound skill.) In addition, anyone who accomplished an achievement received a "WINNER" medal, officially making the medals both the cheapest and worthiest favor of the night.

I think it's easy to say that the party was a raging success. We had at least 20 party-goers stop by throughout the night, and though the party lasted for 6 hours, no one was sick and the apartment was relatively clean when we shut the place down at 2 am. The only downside of having such an epic shindig is that it is now the new standard we must meet or surpass with any future parties. I think Stephen and I are up to the challenge, however, so should you ever be in town for one of our party nights, be sure to stop by!

:Still Alice:

2010-06-05T21:39:00.003+09:00

In the hopes of creating tighter social bonds, I've recently joined a book club. I've yet to make it to a meeting; there's only been one since I've joined, and I had to cancel due to the stress after my first day at a new job. Despite this seeming lack of dedication, I can say that I've not only kept up with, but thoroughly enjoyed, the reading thus far, all of which would have never made it on to my plate were it not for my involvement with this book club.

I'm ahead on the reading at present. This month's meeting is still two weeks away, and, with my usual lack of self-control when it comes to books, I'm already about half-way through July's, having just started this morning. (In my defense, it's a 300 page book.) It's called Still Alice, and is the tale of an independent, intellectual woman of fifty who is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's. It is written from Alice's perspective as she (forgive the Wonderland phrase) falls further down that mental rabbit hole: forgetting things she's just learned; forgetting how to get home; being diagnosed and having to tell her three children that yes, they too may have the disease. Watching her husband's fear of the disease and the strain it is putting on his life. It was this last point that forced me to put the book down.

My grandfather recently passed away, and, toward the end, he had a number of difficulties. The worst of this, for his family, was the onset of dementia. Paired with a large dose of paranoia, his forgetting of where he was and who we were was annoying at best, painful and frightening at worst. I hate that I'll never be able to think of him again without remembering that he accused me, in his last days, of having killed my mother (his daughter) in a plot to get his money, and that he hoped I'd go to the electric chair for my crimes.

Reading Still Alice gives me a glimpse of what that time must have been like for my grandfather: how the fright of not knowing made him lash out at us while latching on to anything that explained his surroundings, even if that meant doubting whether this girl who looked like his granddaughter really was his family. In truth, we were all lucky - my grandfather was 92 before his dementia became a problem rather than just another symptom of old age, and it only was in his last few months of life that he lashed out at my family and the nurses of his rest home. And yet, being provided with this in-the-head glimpse of the fall makes even a short time like that all the more frightening and horrible. My emotional pain pales to nothing in comparison to what must have been his constant fear and panic.

Like a first-year medical student who, after memorizing diagnosis after diagnosis, can't help but diagnose himself with some strange and awful disease, I can't help but feel scared for my own future. How can one love others, have a family, take constant steps forward in building a life when something like Alzheimer's, terminal cancer, or any other of a number of awful diseases could come along to punish loved ones with financial and emotional burdens? And yet we do it every day, and have done it for centuries. I suppose the human condition is one of a terminal nature - we live knowing we will die. But that knowledge doesn't seem to make my newfound fear any easier to swallow.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye...

2010-04-28T22:19:00.004+09:00

Well, viewers, the word is in: Elliott is officially totaled.

This morning, I left for work early so as to stop by the body shop on my way in. I only had a couple of things to retrieve from Elliott - a set of jumper cables and a tire iron - but it was worth going to be able to say goodbye to the car I'd had and enjoyed since my senior year in high school.

Elliott was not in great shape when I arrived. Both bumpers were gone, notes were written on him in car chalk, his tail-lights had been pulled out and put in the trunk... Were we having a funeral, I would have asked for a closed-casket viewing. It was depressing to see him like that, and his untimely demise really struck home. Truth be told, I had been considering replacing Elliott for a while. We had grown apart over the years and not together. It wasn't quite time for us to go our separate ways, but that was in our near future. It didn't make losing him any less sad. Still, I didn't have time to linger, so I gave Elliott his final rights (stole his floor mats) and went on my way to work.

In the end, I like to think that Elliott is moving on to bigger and better things. He's doing something I can't - taking over other, in-need-of-repair cars one infiltrating piece at a time. When the Mercury Sables of the world rise up and try to overcome their masters, I can rest assured that Elliott is contributing to the movement.

An Update

2010-04-26T09:53:00.003+09:00

With nearly a year of silence on a blog, I find myself wondering how far back one goes in order to bring everyone up to speed, or how necessary such an act is. Still, I feel the urge to at least bullet-point my last few months:

After leaving Japan, I spent a couple of weeks traveling with friends in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand. It was harrowing, glorious, fun, and I can't believe I did it.
In September, one of my best friends got married. I stood on his side at the wedding, which was a real honor, and managed to not cry, which was a real surprise.
I also moved to NC in September, and started living with my best friend from high school, which has been one of the best rooming situations I've ever had.
In October, my maternal grandfather died. He was 93, and had lived a very full life. I'm really happy I got to see him a lot before he passed, as such couldn't have happened in previous years.
I also met and started dating my boyfriend, Stephen, in October. He's a computer science graduate student, a complete nerd, and absolutely wonderful.
I spent Christmas with my family and New Year's with friends for the first time in years, and it was glorious.
I started working for Gymboree Play and Music in January, and am still working there - basically, I get to play with little kids most of the time. It was, is, a big step up from working at Old Navy, the only other job I'd been able to find until that point.
Stephen and I took a trip to New Orleans at the end of February to visit his alma mater. It was one of the better trips I've taken in a while, and the food was amazing (as one might suspect).
I turned 25 in March, meaning I'm good for my quarter-life crisis. It'll start any day now. Stephen and I went to a tea ceremony to celebrate, and I spoke Japanese to native speakers for the first time since I left Japan.
Finally, around 5 days ago, I was rear-ended while driving home from work. Though neither I nor the other driver was injured, my car wouldn't start after the accident. I'm fairly sure Elliott has earned his parking pass for the Big Lot in the Sky, which will make my next week of car shopping really "fun."

Is that all too big for a nutshell, or did I fit it all inside?

A Reappropriation

2010-04-26T09:50:00.001+09:00

Though I'd originally intended for this blog to be dedicated to my years in Japan, I'm finding I have the urge to pick up blogging, and [Witty Title Here], where I left it almost a year ago. At the time, I found my isolation in a foreign country mixed with a high amount of travel to be the optimal conditions for my need to write. With those incentives gone upon my return, I felt I no longer had a reason to write.

It has occurred to me, however, that my isolation remains. I have been living in North Carolina for 8 months now, and yet I mostly socialize with my boyfriend and my roommate. As they have lives of their own, and rather busy ones at that, there often come times when I am spending my days in an isolation reminiscent of Ota, but with fewer reasons to be alone.

Perhaps it is time to turn my writing into a promise for, rather than a reaction to, interesting news. If I constantly find myself writing the same things, see that things have not changed, it will only be greater pressure to do more - a public accountability of sorts.

So, here goes.

The Art of Leaving

2009-07-15T14:36:00.004+09:00

One of the more interesting things I've noticed about leaving a place where one has a strong identity is how one meets new people and makes new, sudden, strong connections at the end. At the end of high school, I started hanging out with a different group of people than I'd spent the previous 6 years with. At the end of college, I started dating a guy knowing I'd be moving to Japan in short order.

At the end of my time in Japan, new people have been popping into my life with alarming frequency.

Some of these people are foreigners. I met a fun group of people just a few weekends ago, many of whom have been in Ota for as long as I have, if not longer. It's frustrating to think we could have been hanging out all this time.

Some are Japanese. I was invited to a tea ceremony by the tea lady (/female groundskeeper) at my junior high school and met her daughter, a girl my age who speaks beautiful English. The two of us clicked instantly and we both bemoaned the fact that we only met recently. I had my last dinner with her (for now!) last week and we had a blast, though it took three hugs for us to say goodbye.

Some are completely and utterly random. I've been going to the local grocery store, Brace, regularly for the past two years. In the past two weeks, the cashiers there seem to have taken an extraordinary interest in me. The most memorable was the lady who, seeing that I was buying cat food, said, "Oh, you have a cat! How nice!" and began asking me where I live, work, and so forth.
I went to the travel agency to buy bus tickets to the airport. The lady there asked me if I was flying home, and I said, "Actually, I'm returning home..." She looked really surprised and actually seemed sad that I was leaving. Considering I've only been in that place four times, I found it to be a more emotional response than I was expecting.
There are more, but I'll not bore you.

I guess it's a lesson - no matter how long you've been in a place and how comfortable you are, there's always more to find, be it places, things, or people.

Catching Up

2009-07-15T14:22:00.003+09:00

It's been a long time since I've written here. A combination of growing increasingly busy and the way in which I dealt with the stress of leaving (namely, with a surprisingly intense bout of depression) made writing blog entries rather low on my list.

So, let's catch up. The past month has been Japan's rainy season, which certainly didn't help with my already-depressed mood. As of this week, the rain seems to be over - we instead have constant heat and humidity.

Today is my last day of work at my elementary school. I said a short goodbye speech to the students after radio exercises in the morning (more on this later). The students sang the school song to me, and thank God it was only the school song or I would have started crying. The teachers gave me flowers before class, which really wasn't helping me with not crying. I taught four classes, in all of which the students were better behaved than usual and a lot of fun. It's been a good day. I just have to make it through the afternoon ... I've already accepted that I'll be crying for most of it.

My last day of school and work, period, is on Friday. I'll give a speech to my junior high students, rather longer than the one for the elementary school kids, and will cry, cry, cry.

Katherine arrives on Saturday and the two of us will travel Japan for a week before setting off for Vietnam. We'll spend 5 days together there before Kat goes home; I'll spend another 4 or so days in Saigon and then head to Cambodia to meet with Laurel. The two of us will visit Angkor Wat and then go to Thailand together.

I'll be home on August 15th, exactly a month from today.

In the end, though, the past month can be boiled down to one, main thought:
I still don't know how to deal with all of this.

On Bullying

2009-07-02T14:23:00.005+09:00

In the staff room, I've gained a reputation for being a bully.

Not to say I've been taking teachers out back to steal their milk money. My sense of humor, when added to a frequent use of the word "ijime" (bullying) in my banter with Saito-sensei, has earned me the title. It doesn't help that I've teased some of the more vocal teachers on this score, especially my vice-principal. He's a wonderful man who nevertheless responds to any comment I make in two ways: either I'm sucking up to/flattering someone, or I'm bullying him. Sometimes, I get accused of both; I suppose I'm just efficient.

Two conversations today highlighted this pattern with my vice-principal.

[Set-up: walking back from an observed class]

Vice-principal: *to Board of Education Supervisor* Leslie bullies me all the time!

BOE Supervisor: Really? Leslie, is that true?

Me: *super politely* I don't think that to be the case at all.

Vice-principal: Of course, that's just what a bully WOULD say!

Everyone: *laughs, somewhat at my expense*

[Set-up: I was invited to a dinner hosted by my BOE earlier this week but said I couldn't go, not because I have anything specific to do but because the timing is bad.]

Vice-principal: Leslie, I just got a call from [BOE supervisor 2]. He wants to see if it's at all possible for you to go to that dinner on the 17th.

Me: Sure, it's fine.

Vice-principal: Really? OK, I'll call him back and let him know. *calls* Hello, [Supervisor]-sensei? Yeah, I bullied Leslie into going.

[a few minutes later]

Vice-principal: *hangs up* When I told him I bullied Leslie into it, he told me to not be mean to her or I might make her cry. Ha! And she's the one that bullies me all the time! But he didn't believe me! He said, "I can see [different female staff member] bullying you, but not Leslie!"

Teacher 1: It's true, she doesn't seem the bullying type.

Teacher 2: Doesn't that just make her bullying all the scarier?

Teachers, general: Hahaha, it's so true...

A different teacher of mine, Arai-sensei, never accuses me of bullying straight out; instead, he says, "Leslie's Japanese used to be so nice and polite! NOW listen to her. *resigned sigh*"

All of these instances are, as with my "bullying," a joke, but it has become a seemingly knee-jerk reaction from the staff. As with any stereotype, I can't help but want to say to them that it isn't my full character; that I have other aspects to me, things I can't adequately express in Japanese; but in the end, I comfort myself with the fact that the staff on the whole feel comfortable with interacting with me in such a casual manner. After all, isn't it more important to focus on what one has than what one lacks?

My name is Leslie, and I love karaoke.

2009-06-22T15:19:00.003+09:00

[Seriously. Love karaoke. ]

A few karaoke stories:

1. I made plans in June to go to karaoke with a Japanese friend of mine. The night before, she had an interesting request: her grandparents had overheard that we were planning to go singing together and asked if they could join us. Would that be OK with me?

Well, how many times can you say you've been to karaoke with the 60+ generation?

In the end, our party was made up of 5 people: my friend, her younger sister, their grandparents, and yours truly. We had a wonderful time. The grandparents sang mostly enka, an older Japanese song style. It was my first time hearing enka sung live and not on TV, so I rather enjoyed it. They were also very complimentary of the songs I sang in Japanese, which is always a plus.

2. The past month, I've been to karaoke every weekend. One weekend, I sang with a group for around 5 hours. Just as an FYI: "Semi-Charmed Life" and "Achey Brakey Heart" are hilarious via karaoke. Also, Weird Al does, in fact, have a song or two in the systems here.

3. The term "karaoke" is made up of two words in Japanese - "kara" means empty (karate = "empty hand," a style of fighting with no weapon), and "oke" is short for "okesutura," or "orchestra." I love the idea of karaoke being, in and of itself, an "empty orchestra," one that must be filled with the addition of our own voices.

4. The most recent round of karaoke I've enjoyed was with a large group of my teachers, which was a rather interesting experience. One was really excited at my knowing Billy Joel songs, and spent three of his turns on Joel songs and demanding my assistance with them. Another teacher assisted me in singing the Sailor Moon theme song, something I never thought I'd find useful after my middle school years. Still, nothing can top the principal of my school demanding, rather drunkenly, that I pay close attention while he belted out "We are the Children." There is only one word for such a thing, and that word is "epic."

Reverse Culture Shock

2009-06-18T21:43:00.003+09:00

A few days ago, I popped in a DVD from the second season of the Chappelle Show. The episode opened as it normally does - Chappelle comes out on his carpeted stage to waves of applause from his audience. As Chappelle walked out, my eyes were drawn to his feet, and I thought to myself, "He must have a ton of indoor shoes to have them match his outfit like that."

It was a few seconds before I remembered that most people don't have indoor shoes.

Coming back is going to be "interesting"...

2009-06-18T16:23:00.003+09:00

I had a meeting last Friday in Maebashi, the prefecture's capital. It was for JETs, to talk about things we have to do before we leave.

In short, it was one big ball of >STRESS<.

I had a meeting last Monday in Ota, the city I live in. It was for Ota ALTs, to talk about how to teach effectively. It was fun to meet all the new ALTs in my town for the first time, the people who came in April ... but it was also sad, knowing this would be the first and last time I would see them. It felt like I was watching my town speed past me; not waiting for me to leave it, it decided to leave me first.

I went to dinner with several of the older ALTs, though, and had a really wonderful time. We hung out for some two or three hours before making our separate ways home. The rain even waited until I got home before starting to fall.

Now I'm officially done with ALT meetings. I don't have time to feel much about it; I'm too busy preparing for the move. I alternate between stress and loneliness, all against a backdrop of the constant drizzle of the rainy season.

This isn't the way I wanted to leave Japan.

Walks in the Evening

2009-06-04T09:39:00.004+09:00

Sometimes I take walks in the evening, just as the sky is darkening. My favorite places to walk by at those times are the rice fields. Now that the weather is warmer, it's a somewhat dangerous place to be; the standing water produces masses of bugs, many of which seem to enjoy eating foreign food (aka: me). The pay off is worth it, though, because that mixture of bugs and open air allows for the most amazing stunts of bats at feed I've ever seen.

The area I usually pass on these walks has a large set of fields, so I am guaranteed to see at least three or four bats flying around every time I go. The way their silvery forms bank turns, suddenly change directions, flap frantically to gain altitude again ... all of it gives a strong impression of chaos, and yet, in watching longer, I can't help but notice the grace of it every time.

I could try to make this into an analogy of something here - either of something Japanese or my own experiences here - but, in truth, I just like watching bats fly in the evening.

Things About Japan: Cleaning

2009-05-31T23:02:00.006+09:00

When the bell rings at the end of the last class of the day, my students barely wait for dismissal (a "goodbye, class" from the teachers and a responding "goodbye, Mr./Ms. So-and-so" from the students) before shoving their desks to the back of the classroom and then rapidly dispersing. I can almost hear the announcers saying, "Aaaaaaand they're off! Another exciting start to today's daily Cleaning Time."

Each homeroom is split into five or six groups which handle a set of cleaning areas on a weekly rotation. Everything is cleaned by the students: homerooms, hallways, bathrooms, and even the sidewalks at the front of the school. Teachers, too, are assigned to various areas of the school as overseers, telling the students what to do and, at times, how to do it. One of my more amusing cleaning times involved the vice-principal, a vacuum cleaner, and a very clueless 8th-grade boy. Individual talents aside, this group effort means that there are only two people on staff who could even claim the title "janitor," and it is one of the more minor aspect of their varied duties on the board. (I find "groundskeeper" to be the better claim, if not simply "office staff.")

That being said, the quality of the cleaning isn't quite the same as what a professional cleaning service would render. An ALT in a neighboring town once described cleaning time as "a ritual pushing-around of dirt" - I don't think one could find a more apt summation of the fifteen-minute ritual every afternoon. Cleaning products outside of water and elbow grease seem to not be often used (though bathroom detail may be different - I avoid the area in general for fear of being drafted). The two groundskeepers often do seem to touch up during the day or week on things the students have not entirely accomplished on their own. Still, on the whole I find the method to be effective in areas, such as the hallways and classrooms, where daily attention is more than enough to fight off filth. In places requiring a little more effort, like the bathroom, the cleaning is at the very least serviceable.

The result of these activities is not only that the school is cleaned at a fraction of the cost ("Let me do the math here...nuthin' into nuthin'...carry the nuthin'..."), but that the students learn about the process of cleaning. One of my male students has learned recently the difference between proper sweeping and windmilling a broom about, for example - hopefully he'll be able to show of his skills once he moves out on his own. It also makes a habit of setting aside time for cleaning every day, something to which I wish could adhere. There is even the hypothesis that this activity makes students respectful of public places; I will say that, especially in comparison to America, Japan is a clean place overall. In the end, I can't help but think that many American children could benefit from similar cleaning duties.

Things About Japan: Time

2009-05-30T11:54:00.000+09:00

Telling the time and date in Japanese makes a lot of sense, for the most part.

Lesson 1

The kanji for hour is 時.

The kanji for minute is 分.

If you want to say it's 11:35, you say it's 11時35分.

Japan uses military time, so there's no a.m./p.m. confusion; after 12時 comes 13時.

If you want to say you did something for a length of time ("I studied for an hour"), you add a kanji meaning "length of time, period of time" to this number - 間 - turning the whole thing into an amount of time instead of a specific time-of-day. (This applies to days, months, and years as well, so as not to confuse "I have lived in Japan for 2 years" with "I have lived in Japan since the year 2." An important distinction to make, I feel.)

Let's review:

6:45 is 6時45分.

Doing something for 6 hours and 45 minutes is 6時45分間.

5:12 pm is 17時12分.

Lesson 2

The kanji for day is 日. (This also means "sun.")

The kanji for month is 月. (This also means "moon.")

The kanji for year is 年.

So, when you write the date, you use these kanji to separate the different numbers. Thus, when written with kanji, it's impossible to mistake which is the day and which is the month - they're clearly written out. The order tends to be year, then month, then day. In addition, the names are the months are the same as each number; March is literally called "3rd month" / "Month 3." There are old, traditional names for each month, but these are largely unused at this point.

Let's review:

Today is May 30th, 2009.

The Japanese would write this 2009年5月30日.

Lesson 3

Only one thing makes telling Japanese dates really confusing. While some times you will see the date written as it is above, many times it is written like this:

21年5月30日

Or, more specifically, like this:

平成21年5月30日.

This is because the Japanese calendar counts years not only on the Gregorian scale, but also through the reign of their emperors. The two kanji before "21" in the second example read "Heisei" - that is the name of the current emperor, who is currently in his 21st year of reign. Before Heisei was Showa, whose reign was for 64 years (technically 63 and some change.)

How does the change-over count? The year in which Showa died and Heisei took over started as Showa 64 and then became Heisei 1.

As middle schoolers, the Japanese learn these dates and years. After school, though, it's similar to learning the order and years of each of the presidents - it's regular use is fairly limited. Everyone knows the current year. Most people know the year of their own birth, and maybe the year their children, spouse, or other important people to their life were born. Outside of that, it seems to not matter all that much in everyday life.

Let's review:

My birthday is March 27th, 1985. The Heisei reign started in 1989, so I was born 4 years before the end of the Showa reign. That means my birthday is written as:

昭和60年3月27日

Today's post was brought to you by the ever observant hannah d. Thank/blame her accordingly. Also, if you can't see Japanese characters on your computer, you're missing out! You should've fixed that long ago, anyway.

Tea Ceremony

2009-05-29T13:27:00.006+09:00

AKA: Why didn't I meet you people earlier??

Since last December we've had a new tea lady at our school, a woman by the name of Kurihara. Some time in February or March, she asked if I'd ever been to a Japanese tea ceremony. When I said I hadn't, she promptly invited me to come with her to a tea ceremony in the future. It wasn't until the 12th of this month that I was able to make good on that offer.

At the time she invited me, Kurihara-san told me that her daughter would come as well. Chika studied abroad in Canada and her English is first rate. On top of this, Chika had been studying with Clarissa, one of the other ALTs in my town with whom I was particularly close - thus, Chika and I were practically friends already by default. So I wasn't surprised when the car that pulled up at my apartment held two women. I was surprised, however, when we stopped to add Kurihara-san's mother to our party ... and then again when Kurihara's mother-in-law joined us at the ceremony. Her mother-in-law is herself a tea ceremony instructor and was known by many of the people at the ceremony, making me feel as though I were in the presence of particularly esteemed and great company.

The ceremony itself was fascinating - the gestures of the server were precise and exact, each move having meaning. Chika later told me that, in her studying of tea ceremony, she often found herself very frustrated by these complicated and rigid rules, but as she learned more she realized just how important each movement was. I, for my part, was dumbfounded by the sheer amount of effort required to learn the art.

In addition to the precise movements of the server, the attendants, too, had specific parts to play. In order to be respectful to both the server and the other guests, a dance of movements had to be followed. Apologize to the person next to you for partaking of the snack or tea ahead of them. Lift the snack or tea tray slightly and bow (yes, you're sitting - do it anyway). Take one for yourself carefully. Scoot the tray toward the person next to you so they can avail themselves of it with ease. Wait for all to be served before partaking. The most interesting part of the ceremony, I thought, was after the tea was drunk; it is considered polite to then take the cup from which one had drunk and examine it carefully, turning it upside down to see the maker's mark, admiring the designs and the shape of the cup itself, and so forth. This applies for any other items that go along with the cup (saucers, for instance). After the ceremony, the materials used in preparing the tea, as well as the decorations, can be examined. It's an interesting mixture of what seems to be extreme propriety and a dropping of all pretenses in genuine curiosity and praise.

We went to two different ceremonies. One was what tends to come to mind for Japanese tea ceremonies: macha tea, bamboo whisks, and big bowl-like cups. The former, though, was somewhat different. The tea was bitter and the desserts differed, as well as the serving method. Both were fascinating, though, and, were it not for the cold I had at the time, I would have loved to stay for more.

My hosts were brilliant - they asked if pictures could be taken and then insisted on placing me here and there, first with the ceremonial items and then with the decorations, and snapping many photos of the ceremony itself as well. I've yet to get access to these photos, but I hope to be able to post them soon. They also invited me to join them again, an offer I hope to make use of soon. I somewhat regret not making use of their invitation sooner, as they are clearly wonderful people. Chika, I later found out, is older than me by only a few months - I wish I had gotten to know her months ago! Instead of regretting this, I'm doing my best to make up for lost time. With only a couple of months left in Japan, I have a lot left to do.

The Swine Flu

2009-05-28T12:14:00.003+09:00

The swine flu outbreak started shortly before my trip to Hong Kong, and the evidence of it was clear - many people wearing masks, the airports requiring extra paperwork, and hand sanitizer becoming more and more available. When I came back from my trip and my teachers discovered I'd been to Hong Kong, they all worried that I might have brought it back with me. (Catching a severe cold a few days later did not help with that impression!) It was an interesting experience, though, to see what the people were doing in response to a new "biological terror."

This poster, found at Po Ling Temple, was also made into a flier and handed out to each person who went through the airport.

This was in the elevator at my hotel, and they really did sanitize the buttons and other often-touched areas of the elevator every 2 hours.

At my own school, soap bars have been restocked in every bathroom and at every sink, and students are encouraged daily in the pursuit of good hygiene. There is a regular update on where the swine flu has been found; my teachers are always telling me of how it is creeping closer and closer to Ota. In addition, the student trips to Tokyo (for the 2nd years) and Kyoto (for the 3rd years) were cancelled, a move taken by most schools at this point for fear of the disease. It was disappointing for the students, but, as the flu appeared in Tokyo some two days before the 2nd years were supposed to go there, it was generally considered by my teachers to have been a great move.

The biggest impact of the flu in Japan (other than the flu itself)? Face masks have become extremely hard to find. The government sent a big shipment of masks to Mexico to help with their prevention efforts, but stores are now finding it hard to keep their shelves stocked. As masks are used widely in any case (my school, for example, requires the kids involved with serving lunch to wear them), it's beginning to be a problem for more than just the paranoid of the population.

My biggest issue with the swine flu, other than the intense, the-Apocalypse-is-nigh reaction to it, is having to explain what the name is in English.

"Aren't you scared of the ... pig flu?"

"We call it 'swine flu.' "

*confused look* "...'Swine'?"

Cue a 5 minute discussion of what the word means / how difficult English words for animals are.

(It's gotten old rather quickly, let me tell you.)

Things About Japan: Photos

2009-05-27T11:55:00.003+09:00

It's the popular stereotype of Japanese tourists: traveling in packs, they each have a huge camera, bigger than their heads, and are constantly taking photos of everything that comes their way. Look, a bird! Clickity-clickity-click! Look, a car! Clickity-clickity-click! Here, let's get in the way of everyone and take a group photo! Clickity-clickity-click!

The only thing I can say to this stereotype is that younger generations are using their cellphones to take pictures instead of huge cameras, but those cameras are still easily found at each site to visit. I've seen people taking pictures of everything from trains and train signs ("Look, we took a train to Kusatsu!") to squirrels (to be fair, they aren't native to Japan and can only be found in one or two areas). Still, if a picture can be taken, rest assured that a Japanese person is taking it.

After getting over my astonishment at just how true the stereotype could be, I found myself feeling freed by this practice. Who cares if it's embarrassing to jump out and take that picture - a Japanese person has done it and will do it again, rest assured. It also means that I'm finding my own picture taken more and more often by colleagues and friends. I naturally tend to hide from photos, a knee-jerk reaction because I find myself to be less than photogenic. In Japan, though, it's a meaningless battle - you can't escape from those huge cameras, and they WILL have your picture. (They will also make sure you have a copy of it by the end of the week, if not sooner.)

I've begun carrying around my camera with me at all times, and I can't say how often this has afforded me the chance to take a shot I would otherwise lose to all time. These moments have convinced me of the value of freedom-of-photography. Still, at times I begin to wonder how much of the places I truly see, or whether I'm so caught up in photographic them that I don't take time to see them myself. The lyrics to John Mayer's "3x5" come to mind on most of my trips: "Today I finally overcame / Trying to fit the world inside a picture frame" and "Didn't have a camera by my side this time, / Hoping I would see the world through both my eyes." As with most things, I suppose, it's about finding a balance - the balance between taking that perfect shot, no matter what others will think, and taking a moment to reflect over what one is seeing. I hope all of us can achieve it, but for me ... when the balance tilts to one side, I hope I'll be getting good photos out of it instead of regretting the lack of it.

Things About Japan: Souvenirs

2009-05-26T11:19:00.004+09:00

Long, long ago, when roads were rough and travel was not only expensive, but dangerous and hard, villages used to gather funds to send one of their own out into the world. That person went as a representative of the village, and as such would come back with souvenirs, called "おみやげ" (omiyage) from the trip. Omiyage, at that time, were often items with the name of his destinations inscribed on them. As these trips were generally pilgrimages to temples or shrines, these souvenirs tended to have religious significance - mirrors, temple beads, and even pieces of paper with the shrine name and written blessings on them. These items would be given to those who had invested in the trip, proof not only of the traveler having reached his destination but of funds well-spent.

In the modern day, travel is much easier and is done by most people; despite this, the omiyage culture survives. Instead of being for investors, these souvenirs tend to be for those who have helped the person or were "troubled" by the trip, as well as close family and friends. For example, if a person takes vacation time to travel, more work is put on others during his or her absence. As a somewhat apology for this, the traveller brings them omiyage. The general idea of apologizing for being a bother applies to other instances, as well - for example, people often bring visiting gifts to homes they are visiting, a way of apologizing for the burden it must be putting on the hosts.

With as many people traveling now as there are, bringing back objects as in the olden days would only cause extreme amounts of clutter and, thus, be a bigger burden than the person's absence. Instead, people tend to bring back local foods. At some point, I should write about the obsession I see with food here - for now, suffice it to say that most every town, no matter how small, has a local specialty, and this becomes a common food for omiyage. These items are sold at train stations, airport boutiques, and even in stores near the popular destinations themselves, each item individually-wrapped for easy distribution and with the name of the destination written somewhere on the packaging.

I've fallen in love with this practice, though it can be an expensive one - depending on how long I'm gone and what days I miss, I can find myself needing to buy souvenirs for around 100 people (for which I would devote some $50 of my travel budget). Still, it's a great way for a foreigner like myself to start conversations with my staff - "Thank you so much for the omiyage! It was delicious. Where did you go?" It's especially gratifying when they say, "Even though I'm Japanese, I've never been there. Did you like it?"

So far, my most popular omiyage has been manju (a steamed, bready bun with sweet-bean paste inside) from Obama. The wrapper had the town's Obama logo on it - the back of the president's head, with "Obama for Obama!" written at the top. Most of the staff thought the whole thing was hilarious, and I still see this wrapper saved by some of my teachers at their desks.

The next time you go traveling, consider bringing back a food omiyage for your friends. I guarantee it will go over well, and if you pick wisely, you can make it a cheap but enjoyable aspect of your return. For my part, I'll be doing my best to continue living an omiyage life.

Final Impressions of Hong Kong

2009-05-25T10:57:00.003+09:00

AKA: A Wrap-up

There are three more things I'd like to say about Hong Kong before I abandon this trip for other topics.

1. Religion

One of the biggest things I find when I travel here is that the approach to religions are completely different. The Japanese religious setting is fairly subdued compared to her Asian brethren. Red (either true red or an orange-red), black, and white find their way into many religious settings, but most other colors are not to be found. In their place is natural wood, oxidized bronze, and various metallic finishes. In South Korea, though, green was very prominent, as well as the aforementioned colors found in Japan. In Taiwan, yellow and orange make a fabulous display ... again, in addition to those found in Japan.

In Hong Kong? As long as it was bright, most anything could (and did) go. Yellow was most prominent, as, I've been told, it is the color of royalty and of good fortune. This aside, what seemed important was the brightness. My final impression was that the Japanese religious settings are very subdued, but reverent; the Hong Kong ones felt like a celebration of faith, an expression of love through joyful atmosphere. It is analogous, in my mind, to the difference in atmosphere felt in a Catholic cathedral and a Pentecostal revival tent.

I would say that the people are, at surface level, the same - the Japanese seem very subdued, the Hong Kong citizens seemed much more lively and buoyant. Still, it's a skin-deep examination, and one I've only lightly considered; don't take it as an expert reading of two cultures!

2. Cantonese

My brother lived in Taiwan for two years and studied Mandarin during his time there. He once said to me that Cantonese sounded like "pots banging together" in comparison to the fluid tones of Mandarin and, after my time in Hong Kong, I fear I have to agree. The percussiveness of the language caught me at every turn. While in Taiwan, I fell in love with the melody I heard in Mandarin, a lyricism that brought to mind my short studies of Italian. "I could love this language," I thought at the time. On the other hand, though I fell deeply in love with Hong Kong itself, I know I could not live there - I couldn't stay for a long time without learning some of the language, and speaking Cantonese would irritate me continually.

3. The World in an Island

I really did fall in love with Hong Kong. I could see myself living there very easily (outside of the language issue). It had everything I needed, and within short distance - a beautiful beach 30 minutes outside of downtown, forests and hills within an hour, Asian and Western influences blended together most everywhere. I found myself thinking of Hong Kong as its own world, an island that, though it would always rely on imports from the outside world, nevertheless seemed to contain everything necessary for me to live a happy existence, even happier than in Japan. While both are island communities, Japan has a love-hate relationship with the West that makes finding most tastes of home nigh impossible. Hong Kong, though, was perfectly balanced.

If only it weren't for Cantonese ... ;)

With this, I'll leave my Hong Kong adventure behind and begin writing about other things. I can only close by saying that, if you ever have a chance, please do visit. You won't regret it!

English and Japanese, At It Again.

2009-05-17T21:05:00.004+09:00

In a world where I feel I'm always playing catch-up, trying to get up to speed and learn as much Japanese as I can, it's fun to see when, instead of being influenced by my world, I influence it.

My best example of this is the exclamation "Nice!" Over the past year, I've watched this creep into my teachers' vocabulary through my own, repeated use of it. It's not too surprising that it's caught on - it's short, easy, and a word that all of them recall from their own English classes, however long ago. (I've yet to meet a Japanese person who can't remember, "Hello, my name is ~~. Nice to meet you.") Still, it is funny to hear two teachers conversing (in Japanese) and have one suddenly say "Nice!" in response to the other. Of course, I'm not the only one influencing my teachers - TV is also a great help, where words like "lucky," "bad," and even "very, very good" are frequently used. But "nice," I know, I can claim for my own.

Still, my own English is falling under the influence of the Japanese around me - just wait, friends, till you hear me say "See you!" upon parting, as the Japanese have quite a special lilt of their own for the phrase. And, of course, there's Janglish (Japanese English). My new favorite is really an old classic here. "Cho" is a slangy sort of "very," and is often used in the same way teenage girls use "so" - "He's sooooooooooo cute!" (In Japanese, "Choooooooooo kakkoi!") For some reason, I recently used "cho good" with an English teacher, and we both giggled at the strange phrase. "I'm bringing this back to the US with me," I told her at the time. I don't think she quite believed me.

One of the best things about learning a language is finding out those little quirks - the words that somehow say more than their native-language counterparts. I have a feeling many of my friends and family will find my random Japanese quips and responses to be annoying (or, rather, the ensuing explanation of them), but please be patient. Just think - at least you're not the ALT walking into the "Nice!" staffroom.

My Very Busy Day (part 2)

2009-05-15T15:36:00.002+09:00

The Tale Continues!

5. Victoria Peak (originally visited Saturday night)

Victoria Peak was disappointing in the afternoon compared to what it was like at night. The view of Hong Kong at night is spectacular - the view of it during the day is impressive, but not nearly as beautiful. Still, I was glad to know that I had seen it at its best, even if my pictures didn't survive. (Not to mention it was a million times easier to get up there during the day - it took me 2 hours just to get on the tram on Saturday night, whereas it took me about 5 minutes on Tuesday!)

6. The Golden Bauhinia Square and the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Center (originally visited Monday evening)

The HKCE was where the British passed control of Hong Kong back to China after 100 years of "ownership." The Golden Bauhinia statue was built to honor this occasion, and is the new symbol of Hong Kong. Truth be told, it's a pretty site ... but that's about it.

7. The Star Ferry (used multiple times throughout the trip)

The Star Ferries were some of my favorite ways to travel. Instead of riding under the channel, one can cheaply take a ferry over it instead. It was relaxing and cool, as a calm breeze blew off the water and through the open deck. Plus, it's a great way to see both the Kowloon and the Hong Kong Island parts of the city.

8. The Clock Tower / The Avenue of the Stars (originally visited Monday evening)

The Clock Tower is the only remaining part of the original Kowloon train station, built in the early 1915. It's gained 3 more clock-faces since then, but it's still a nice addition to the area.

The Avenue of the Stars is a short walk from the tower and is home to star-plaques of famous Hong Kong actors and actresses. My camera battery was beginning to die again, so I wasn't able to finagle all the pictures I wanted from the place. Still, here is one I did manage to get clearly of Bruce Lee's star.

Jackie Chan's star had his hand prints with it - my hands are roughly the same size as his. Hilarious side note: his hands are much bigger than most Asians hands, as was frequently pointed out while I was trying, unsuccessfully, to get a picture.

9. The Symphony of Lights (originally seen Monday evening)

Every night at 8 o'clock, the city puts on a light show using the buildings on the Hong Kong Island side of the bay. It's accompanied by music and a beautiful sight to behold - I'm glad I got to go twice. Plus, the second night I met a pair of retirees who were absolutely wonderful. They made my evening, no, my day, and it was worth losing my pictures to meet them. (I'm fairly positive I wouldn't have met them had my pictures not forced me into this crazy day of travel.)

After this, I checked out of my hotel room and made my way to the airport. My flight was at 1:50 am - can you imagine, after a day as busy as mine, staying awake that long? It was a challenge, to be sure! Still, I managed it and had most of Wednesday to recover from my intense, but wonderful, Hong Kong day.

Note:

There were three places I didn't revisit, due to time constraints.

1. Hong Kong Heritage Museum

This place was amazing. It's made me extremely interested in Cantonese Opera, and that's an impressive feat indeed! It also had a good exhibit on Hong Kong's history that helped me appreciate the places I visited.

2. The 10,000 Buddhas Temple

This was a place where the only word that continues to resound in my mind is "garish." Look up photos of it online and you'll find what I mean. The 10,000 Buddhas were hardly what I would call "reverent" ... they were much closer to "hilarious."

3. The Bamboo Temple

This temple was nice, but hard to get to and really similar to the Po Lin monestary, so in the end I wasn't too sad about missing the pictures of it. My camera battery also died on me that day, so I didn't have many good pictures from there in the first place.

All in all, I'm pretty proud of my achievements! Not something I would like to repeat by any means (I had one solid meal that day), but a good day nonetheless.

My Very Busy Day (part 1)

2009-05-14T15:27:00.000+09:00

AKA: Conquering Hong Kong

On the eve of my last day in Hong Kong, I accidentally deleted all 680+ photos I had taken since my arrival three days prior.

Let me just give you a moment to let that sink in.

. . .

I take great pride in admitting that I did not cry, throw a tantrum, or even break anything after this happened. Instead, after about 10 minutes of mental panic, I resolved to re-do Hong Kong, visiting as many of the sites I'd seen (as well as one new one) in my one, last day.

So, here's what I did:

1. Kowloon Walled City Park (originally visited Sunday morning)

Kowloon Walled City was originally a small bit of China in the middle of British-owned Hong Kong. As such, the place was practically lawless - China wasn't exactly sending in a whole lot of assistance. It continued on this way for decades, growing up when it could no longer grow out and unstable in more than just a few ways, until it was torn down in 1993. It's a fascinating story, and I highly encourage all my readers to delve further into its history.

After it was torn down, it was made into a beautiful garden area. I had a lot of fun wandering around, watching the older people exercise, and enjoying the scenery. It was fun to see how different it was on Sunday morning (around 9:30) and Tuesday morning (around 7) - amazingly enough, it was more crowded the second time around!

2. Fung Ying Seen Koon (originally visited Sunday afternoon)

Fun Ying Seen Koon is a Taoist temple for the dead - it's a large and colorful complex, housing not only shrines for various deities but row after row of memorials for the dead. These memorials are, and forgive me the sacrilegious tone, like cubby-holes, each displaying not only the name of the deceased and his/her dates of birth and death, but a picture as well. I imagine, too, that in each cubby is an urn of the deceased's ashes, but that's all assumption on my part.

The difference between Sunday afternoon and Tuesday morning was fairly noticeable. Tuesday morning hosted many tai chi practitioners, working on various forms in the front courtyard. Sunday afternoon, though, showed more worshipers - family members making offerings to their dead relatives. Lesson learned - going back to a place at a different time makes a huge difference, and isn't a bad thing.

3. Tian Tan Buddha and Po Lin Monastery

This was my one new place for the day, and I'm still in love with it. I was sitting on the bus, watching the scenery of Lantau island pass by, when in the distance I saw a Buddha statue rise up above the hills immediately around me. As we got closer, his size grew and grew, and at our arrival I could only marvel at his calm-yet-towering presence.

Po Lin Monastery, the sponsors of the Tian Tan Buddha, was a short walk away. It was quite similar to a different temple I had seen earlier in the week but wouldn't get to return to, which, for the sake of my pictures, made me happy. Similar to Fung Ying, the colors were bright and beautiful. It was a completely different sensation than the quiet reverence Japanese temples inspire, but I liked the celebratory energy of it.

I took the bus in, but snagged the cable cars back to the station. This ended up being perfect - I got a car all to myself and got to run around like a giddy 12-year-old, taking pictures and movies. It gave me an energy boost, which I needed as I headed to my next destination.

4. Repulse Bay and the Kwun Yam Shrine (originally visited Monday afternoon)

Repulse Bay is on the opposite side of the main island from Kowloon and the New Territories - in short, it's significantly less busy there during the day and has a laid-back feel in general. It's still touristy, though, as it's one of the better beaches in Hong Kong, and definitely the closest to the downtown area. Of course, this proximity doesn't mean it isn't beautiful.

Still, my main reason for visiting was the Kwun Yam Shrine, a place that I love despite the fact that the first descriptor that comes to mind of it is "folk artist's garage-sale back yard." The place is filled with statues of deities covered in colorful mosaic tiles. The site is named for Kwun Yam, a deity of good luck, though she is paired with Tin Hau, a male deity. The two together are known for their protection of those at sea.

And, of course, the site is famous for the Longevity Bridge - every time you cross the bridge, it will add 3 years (or 3 days, as another source said) to your life. Sweet deal!

My camera battery, which I fully charged the night before, began to die on me at this point. I decided to take a break to recharge both my battery and myself, so went to the hostel for a half-hour break.

(to be continued in part 2...)

North Korea and Other Difficulties

2009-05-08T08:36:00.006+09:00

Two more anecdotes from my trip with my parents:

My parents' flight was at 3 pm on Sunday, so the plan was to see them off on an express train to the airport at 10:30 that morning. We were just getting our luggage out of our hotel rooms when my phone began to buzz. It was an email from my brother: "Mom and Dad's flight has been delayed until 7 pm."

Dad was furious, Mom concerned. We got online and tried to reschedule an earlier flight, or at least find out why ours had been delayed. At this point, Dad asked the front desk at the hotel to call the airport so we could talk to a person rather than struggle with uninformative websites. The answer we got back was surprising, as we hadn't been watching the news: "North Korea is planning a missile launch, so NO plane is leaving until after 5, their cut-off time for the launch."

Dad calmed - the delay was unavoidable. Mom went from fairly calm to agitated - the airports would be hell because every flight was delayed, and then there was the danger presented by the launch itself. And we all agreed that, while it is blissful to ignore the world at large during a vacation, it really can come back and bite you sometimes.

Segue into anecdote 2: this delay was a problem for me because I was torn between wanting to stay with my parents as long as possible and with my original plans...to go to the

Kanayama Shrine's Phallus Festival.

(It's worth bolding for effect.)

The rest of this post may fall under the category of "Not Safe for Work" as it contains many fake penises. That being said, I encourage you to continue reading and to tell any dissenters to chill and enjoy - it's all cultural, baby.

It was a hard decision, but I decided I would resent my parents if they prevented me from seeing this once-in-a-lifetime festival. I hopped on a train and set off for the Kaneyama shrine.

The festival is one to celebrate fertility. While the ceremonies have largely stayed the same over the years, the attending masses have changed quite a bit over the years. Foreigners make up around half of the crowd, and a crowd it always is. While people mass to see the portable (penis) shrines being lifted and carried around the town, merchants sell penis memorabilia. Towels with penis dyed patterns, penis statues, penis and vagina lollipops ... if it has a penis on it, it's welcome in the merchant stalls.

There are two main events at this festival, as I understand it. One is the parade where the phallus shrines are carried around town by volunteers. The practice of carrying around shrines is fairly common - it's an act to entice the spirits/gods into the portable shrine and then bring them back to the main shrine to act as protectors, wish-granters, and so forth. Granted, they generally don't have cross dressers as the shrine-bearers.

The second event, though, was one not to be found at your usual festival - girls of all ages would straddle a large, wooden penis so as to add bonus points to their "fecund" skill set. (Wow, I just made a gaming/penis combo reference. I can hear the boys falling in love already.) Yes, ladies - if you want to ensure that you or your daughter is "ripe for the picking," just come on up and sit on this wooden penis. Yes, it's as easy as that - no hidden games or gimmicks. Step right up for your own fertility blessing.

Bringing a whole new facet to the "wood" euphemism...

In the end, I didn't stay long - the place was too crowded for my tastes, I'd taken the photos I wanted, and if I returned promptly I could spend another hour with my parents. Still, it certainly was worth seeing. There's something about walking along under beautiful cherry blossoms and seeing a mass of penis paraphernalia that just made me smile. It was a pretty wonderful day.

(And yes, for anyone who's wondering - I did get back in time to spend another hour or so with my parents and properly send them off, and North Korea hasn't killed us all ... yet.)

"It's a hug, man. A hug."

2009-05-07T14:58:00.005+09:00

One of my favorite TV shows here is called Hanazakari Kimitachi E (Ekimen Paradise) ["For You in Full Bloom - Hottie Paradise" - HanaKimi for short]. It's about a girl who enters an all-boys high school so as to be able to help Sano Izumi, a skilled high-jumper who had suddenly abandoned the sport.

(Sound ridiculous? Welcome to Japanese TV.)

In order to get in the school, the girl, Ashiya Mizuki, disguises herself as a boy. Sano quickly figures out that Ashiya is a girl, but almost all of the other characters remain blissfully (read: impossibly) unaware. One of these other characters is Nakatsu, a loudmouth from Osaka who finds himself falling in love with Ashiya despite the fact that Ashiya is a "boy." He struggles with his sexual identity through most of the show.

One of the best scenes of this struggle is when Nakatsu confronts Sano about some of his behavior towards Ashiya. That is to say, Nakatsu saw Sano give Ashiya a hug.

Nakatsu: Um... Actually, I saw the whole thing. You... that.... You and Mizuki...

Sano: And?

Nakatsu: 'And'?! What do you mean, 'and'? Could it be that you're ...

:Sano hugs Nakatsu just as he did Ashiya:

Sano: This is common. "Friendship between men." It's a hug, man. A hug.

OK, it's ridiculous, but it really is funny. I giggle every time I watch that scene. It's so, so very Japanese. PDA (Personal Displays of Affection) are out of the question here. Girls talk about wanting to walk down the streets holding hands with their boyfriends, and how romantic that would be - that is to say, it's a major turning point in the relationship for them. In short, a public hug really is a big deal here.

Last week, I was teaching an English class with Itabashi-sensei, one of my better English teachers. This particular class was a display for the parents, so we not only had 36 kids in the class but some 15 or so parents in the back of the room. My teacher, for some reason, was talking about hugging. She used English, so she wanted to make sure the students understood. While she asked them what "hug" is in Japanese, I mimed hugging in her direction some 5 feet away. Either due to a misinterpretation of the gesture or her wanting to take it a step further, Itabashi-sensei also put out her arms and took a step closer to me. We both inched toward each other, arms outstretched, waiting for the students to respond. As the silence dragged on, an actual hug started to become a reality to this situation, and my teacher said in a strained and embarrassed voice, "Hurry up [and say it]!!"

The desperation in her voice was too much - I broke the impending hug and doubled over with laughter. It took me a good 15 seconds to recover, and all the while the parents in the room watched me with ... mostly confusion, but some amusement. It was a moment fueled by my rapport with my teacher and my distance from Japan's romantic restrictions; I didn't expect them to understand.

It's all just a lesson in laughing. I could rant and rave about the romantic situation here, all the rules and general practices; as a matter of fact, I often do rant about these things. (If you personally aren't inflicted with these diatribes, consider yourself lucky.) Still, in some moments I am able to laugh, and that makes all the difference. From now on, when I get a hug, I'll think of Sano's words - 「ハーグ、だ。ハーグ。」("Haagu, da. Haagu," or "It's a hug, man. A hug.")

And it will bring a smile to my face.

Cutting Japanese Men Down to Size

2009-05-07T14:29:00.004+09:00

An anecdote from my trip with my parents:

I was in the hotel lobby, checking my email at the computer bank, when a couple of guys sat down at a table behind me. They were clearly at least a few drinks into their evening and left no doubt as to the fact that they were just getting started. It also quickly became apparent that they were talking about me.

My parents came down to check their email and the news, and as they did so I sat and listened to these guys talk about checking me out, then about picking up foreign girls, then launching into a long how-to discussion. I say "discussion," but in truth it was mostly one man lecturing the other, instructing him the ways to work it over. I somehow managed to keep my countenance and not laugh at them. After 20 minutes or so, my parents said they were ready to head out to dinner. "OK," I said. "Just give me a sec."

I turned to the boys and said, in Japanese, "Excuse me, but ... all that's really sketchy."

Cue 3 seconds of silent, wide-eyed staring. For a moment, I wondered if I'd made a mistake in what I'd said, somehow been unintelligible, began reviewing what I'd said in my head, when ...

"Oh my God, sorry, sorry, oh God, so sorry..." I know now why people call it a "flood" of words, as these two were gushing from the mouth, horror clearly showing on their faces. I said, "Sure, OK, whatever" in a light way, smiling, and walked over to the desk to turn in my key. The front desk lady was clearly enjoying my telling these boys off. Then, the "instructor" of the pair said loudly, in a tone pitched to ensure I heard it, "So, like I was saying, when the girl is really cute and smart and clearly studies Japanese ..."

"Enough already," I said, laughing.

"She said, 'enough already!' " said the learner of the pair, clearly enjoying that his lecturer just got his butt handed to him.

I managed to make it out of the door ... barely ... before I nearly doubled over with laughter. Even better, though, was the confused look on my parents' faces; as everything had happened in Japanese, they hadn't a clue of my triumph. Explaining it was like reliving the moment of victory.

I laughed all the way to dinner. The world, at that moment, was perfect.

Office Politics and The Big Switch

2009-05-01T12:52:00.003+09:00

When I was in college, I spent a little over a year in the student government, working as a member of the Treasury. Our student government was rather more cut-throat than most, from the descriptions I hear of other organizations. (Not many school governments have coup de tats.) The politics within the Student Union, or SU, were much worse than anything the student body saw. Long story short, the whole thing left rather a bad taste in my mouth for inner-organization politics. Sadly, this kind of politics is a way of life, and even running as far away as Japan has not spared me.

Before I get into the heart of the matter, let me explain a few things about teachers and Japanese school systems.

The school year runs from April to April.
Teachers are hired by the Board of Educations in their cities, not by the schools themselves.
Teachers are moved from school to school within their designated areas. This is to spread around good teachers, though it also means bad teachers can stay in the system purely because everyone says, “Eh, he’ll be traded away soon anyway, why bother firing him?”
“Designated area” can cover a lot of ground – my prefecture has only 4 areas, which means teachers may be forced to drive well over an hour or two to their job every day.
The BOE decides when and where to move a teacher. On the whole, teachers are moved after their third year at a school but before their eighth. Thus, most teachers only spend around 5 years at any given school.
The teachers find out about the switches a couple of weeks before they actually happen, sometime in mid-March.

It’s an interesting system, one that I think works in some ways and doesn’t in others. Still, it does throw the staff room into a bit of a fit. All of the roles have to be reassigned every year to accommodate established teachers leaving and new-to-the-school teachers taking their place. This year, the head teacher of the 3rd year students (from now on, I’ll refer to him as Mr. X) left. Thus, a new head teacher had to be picked. And here was where office politics raised its ugly head.

There is a teacher in my staffroom (from now on, I’ll refer to her as Ms. Y) who gets along with practically no one. Everyone plays nice in the staff room, of course, but behind the scenes, this woman receives more bad press than I thought possible. I knew that I wasn't 100% inclined toward her, but I didn't realize just the amount of trouble she caused. It's pretty astounding.

Anyway, back to my story. Mr. X and Ms. Y got along well, so there were no concerns with her placement last year. However, with Mr. X leaving, no head teachers were willing to put up with Ms. Y in their group. It honestly threw the staff room into a flurry of behind-the-scenes chaos. For example, while my parents and I were visiting Saito-sensei’s house, he received two calls from other high-ranking teachers to discuss the matter. Both times, it took him around 10 or 20 minutes to complete the call.

This is already an overlong story, especially when one doesn’t know the players and when I can’t reveal the details on so public a forum as this. So let me get to the important part, that being, of course, how all of this affected me:
An issue was raised by this troublesome Ms. Y that the balance of male and female teachers in each year was off. As she was willing to make a stink about it, everyone gave in. Between this and all of the fuss caused over Ms. X's placement, it became clear that I would be passed to a new group. Yes, the group of teachers with whom I have sat, had numerous drinking parties, and even traveled, during my first 20 months were forced to pass me off to another year.

For the past year, I’d had the perfect arrangement; sandwiched between Saito-sensei and one of my most enjoyable English teachers, Takayanagi-sensei, I always had someone with whom I could talk, joke, and be silly. As it stands now, they are on the opposite side of the staff room from me, as far away as is possible. My new teachers, while fun and nice people, don’t know me well and are always busy. I find that I often feel lonely now. It's not just me, either - when I mentioned my loneliness to Takayanagi-sensei, she turned to Saito-sensei and said (in Japanese), "If that's the case, why the heck can't she come back over with us?" I suppose I can take some misery-loves-company consolation in that.

It’s not the fault of my new group of teachers that I'm left-out; it’s an extremely busy time of year, only one (my English teacher) speaks English well, and it’s hard to invest in someone who will be leaving in a few short months. Even just now I had a nice conversation with my new head-teacher about the students. Still, I feel sorry for the next ALT, especially if he or she doesn’t speak Japanese. While that ALT will still be surrounded by wonderful, friendly, smiling teachers, he or she won’t be able to experience the same security I had all last year. In the end, I guess I can only be thankful that I had a chance to experience such a warm staff room myself.

100th Post!

2009-04-28T11:14:00.003+09:00

That's right, this post marks the 100th post of this blog!

Let's celebrating!

I've learned a lot since I first started writing here - about this culture and, in comparison, my own; about others and, in comparison, myself. In fact, when I read past entries (especially the first five), I am amazed to find how much I've changed. It's only been a couple of years, but I feel I've grown more here than I did in most of my years at college.

While I started this blog with the pretense of passing on my experiences to my friends and family back home, I'm finding that I value it more and more as a chronicle. It's a concrete sign of my own development and life.

So here's to 100 posts! May there be 100 more*!

*highly, HIGHLY unlikely! *wink*

Dinner with the Saitos

2009-04-20T08:20:00.005+09:00

AKA: Speechless, much?

I have mentioned Saito-sensei countless times here - he truly is my Papa-sensei in the office. He brags about me at enkai to other teachers, he keeps an eye on me, and he laughs at my stupid jokes. It was clear that he would want to be apprised of my parents' visit.

As I expected, Saito-sensei wanted to meet them. The unexpected turn of events was when Saito-sensei offered to host us at his house for dinner. While this is hardly a big deal in America, it's rarely done in Japan. Hosting here requires one to be prepared for all of one's guests particular whims, as if the guest were ordering a meal instead of being treated to one. It's a heavy burden, and as such many Japanese forgo hosting at their own places and instead plan to meet at a restaurant, where the burden is on the wait staff and not the host or hostess.

In short, Saito-sensei's offering to have us over for dinner was a very, very big deal.

I knew we were in for a good time when Saito-sensei drove up to meet us at the hotel. He was grinning such to put the Cheshire Cat to shame - I've never seen him look so pleased. We got into the car and he and I chatted about school in Japanese. For once, he seemed shy to use his English, yet another sign of how much this meeting meant to him.

When we arrived at his house, two things jumped out at me. The place was amazingly clean, something Saito-sensei was quick to bemoan ("I'm exhausted from cleaning this place!"). There was also a wonderful spread already out on the table - handmade sushi, tempura, tofu salad, and a number of other options. I can't tell you how much preparation had gone into this dinner, not to mention the fact that it was soon followed by nabe, a kind of hot-pot stew.

After we sat down and were served drinks, the ritual began. I asked my parents to bring souvenirs for the family, and I handed those out and explained them. All were well received, to my relief. The reception of the whiskey for Saito-sensei was particularly hilarious - he was so engrossed with reading the label that he responded to my mother's asking "do you like whiskey?" with little more than a grunt. I can't explain why this is so funny except to say that, for someone who was displaying an extreme amount of deference to my parents, it was a surprisingly informal response. It's as if he were so pleased, he forgot to be polite...and that takes a lot, here.

Gifts were also given to us, as though dinner weren't enough. They gave my parents sake cups from a local sake maker, and we sampled his sake during dinner. We were also presented with the chopsticks we'd used that night after dinner was over, washed and wrapped in cloth cases. I was given a Totoro hand-towel (the kind I mentioned in a previous post), a nod to my complete adoration of Miyazaki.

It was at this point that the Saitos surprised me with a birthday present - the complete, boxed set of Nausicaa comics. The last and only other time I went to the Saitos, Saito-sensei showed me his own set of these comics, well-worn and well-loved. The Japanese was then (and is still) beyond me, but I spent a lot of time pouring over the images. It's also hardly what I'd call an inexpensive gift; I've been a good girl and haven't looked up the exact price, despite my temptation, but I know it cost a lot. I wasn't expecting anything, much less a gift like that. This gift, more than anything, woke me to the amount of affection Saito-sensei has for me. I was, and continue to be, amazed and moved by both the gifts and the feelings behind it.

We ate, drank, and drank some more. Saito-sensei's elderly mother watched my parents, my father especially, like a hawk, always pressing more sake or beer on him and encouraging him to eat. At one point, she asked if she could touch my mother's hair, and ran her fingers through it in wonder, as if she couldn't understand how it got to be so white. My mother loved her; my father somewhat feared her, I think, by the end of the night. And, of course, we took pictures - to my mother's delight, we got a group picture in front of Mari's Hina Matsuri doll set, and it's officially one of my favorite pictures.

From left to right: Ms. Saito, Saito-sensei, me, Mom, Dad, and Saito-sensei's mother. Not pictured: Saito-sensei's daughter, Mari.

When we were all doing our best to stay awake, some 4 hours after we were picked up from the hotel, I dropped a hint to Mrs. Saito and we soon found ourselves being escorted to a taxi. It then occurred to me that we had ALL been drinking, and, as Japan has a zero-tolerance law in regards to alcohol and driving, we couldn't be driven home by our hosts. Instead, we were sent home in a taxi prepaid by the Saitos, something all arranged without our noticing. I am fairly sure they paid around $40 for this, just to clarify how generous this was - just another sign of how far the Japanese go to treat their guests.

Along the ride home, my parents were near speechless at the display of hospitality. I was a little bit more aware of what would happen, but even I wasn't nearly prepared enough for all of this. It was an amazing night, and one that impressed on me just how much Saito-sensei values our friendship.

As my father said on our ride home, "I don't even know how to begin thanking them, muchless how to return the favor." I find I'm rather still in that state.

The Snack Bar

2009-04-16T08:51:00.005+09:00

There are some essential things I keep in my desk - without them, I don't know how I could make it through the day. No, I don't mean my copies of the textbooks, or my notebooks of worksheets for class, or even the cute little cup-cozy I made last year; they're all necessary, of course, but "essential"? No, I mean, of course, my stash of tea and snacks.

It's not the first thing I thought of needing when I first established myself at my desk, I have to say. Still, over time, I found that the pick-me-up of a small candy here, a little bit of pastry there, or an extra cup of tea went a long way to improving my ability to make it through the day.

A lot of choices are available for individually-wrapped, "fun sized" snacks in Japan. Most of this is because the Japanese, from my observations, are a food-loving, germ-hating culture. Most cities have some sort of assigned specialty food, and these options are listed quite frequently in travel guides and brochures. There's also a strong tradition of giving food as a souvenir from ones travels, so having small, individually-wrapped portions readily available for purchase is an important aspect of this habit.

Two things result from this: one, it's rare that a week passes and some new treat doesn't arrive on my desk, either as a souvenir from someones travels or as a gift given to the school to curry favor in some way or another. Two, grocery stores often have these sorts of things for sale, so it's easy to invest in your own at-desk snack bar.

The best reason to have a snack bar, however, is not for your own use, but for the bribery of other teachers. If an English teacher is particularly busy, for example, I will leave him or her a note, saying whatever it is I need to ask them (generally about what to do for upcoming classes). This is made a thousand times more effective with the occasional addition of a candy or two from the snack bar. Tea, though, is easily the best way to bribe a teacher for his or her time. If you offer to get tea for a teacher, it means that said teacher will have to spend at least a few minutes with the tea. This opens a prime opportunity for asking about an upcoming class. As my class schedule changes every week, requiring continual checking-in with my teachers, this method of bribing a few minutes out of their schedules here and there is one of the best in my arsenal.

I can't help but think that these tricks will help me immensely in my future in America. Practically-invisible TA? A note with a fun-sized Snickers to force a materialization. Particularly uptight boss? A smile and a cup of coffee to smooth out the rough edges. I can't think of an instance where homemade cookies won't solve at least some problems. Of course, these methods require some attention before use - it'd be unfortunate if you brought coffee to someone who doesn't like it, or chocolate to someone with an allergy. But just think of the power you may wield for your efforts!

A Failed Trip

2009-04-09T10:49:00.000+09:00

AKA: Thoughts of Katherine

Immediately after my afore-described staff trip, I took my own trip around Japan. Now, when I say "immediately after," I mean it: I said goodbye to my teachers in the Tokyo train station, waving as they set off to return to Ota, and stayed in Tokyo overnight.

It was a sad evening - the original intent of this week-long break was to spend time with my best friend from high school, Katherine, who would be visiting during her spring break. Unfortunately, the world at large had other plans. Various things prevented Katherine from coming, so I went on the trip "一人ぼっち" - all alone. The trip itself ended up being miserable overall, in part due to Katherine's absence, but mostly because of outside circumstances. It was to the point that I spent most of my time thinking how wonderful it was that Katherine wasn't there to share in my misery.

The first part was spent in Tokyo, where it was cold, cold, cold. I spent the days investigating several must-see places I'd yet to visit, considering it research for future visitors. Did I mention it was cold? I spent half of my last day there huddled in my heated hostel, attempting to not freeze and playing my DS. (Yes, I am a nerd.)

On Wednesday morning, I hopped on a plane to Okinawa, the Hawaii of Japan. I'd long intended to go there and, with Katherine's interest in marine biology, I figured it was a good opportunity for us to enjoy the place together. Soon after my arrival, though, I yet again felt it was better Katherine wasn't there. Between the near constant rain (so much for paradise!) and the attitude of the locals, I felt ill-at-ease.

I should say that the locals that made me feel most uncomfortable were mostly the other people (read: men) at my entirely-Japanese hostel. They took my presence as an opportunity to be lewd, a thing I don't think is particularly Okinawan by any means. Of course, there were also the store owners that looked at me and, due to my being a foreigner, had one of two reactions:

grimace with ugh-do-I-have-to-deal-with-this feelings (which is not wholly undeserved - most foreigners who come to Okinawa probably can't speak Japanese, and Okinawa has suffered a lot at the hands of Americans, both during and after the war), or
look at me as if I were a walking yen note.

I did have some wonderful interactions with natives, though - I had a long conversation about Okinawan history with a woman from the historical society there, for example, and I ended up buying a book (in English) about Okinawan's part in the second World War on her recommendation. Another shop keeper asked me several questions about studying languages when she found out I speak Japanese and teach here. At the end of our conversation she gave me a discount on my purchase for having talked with her so long, a double-win in my book.

In the end, I fear, my conclusion is one well-established by both history and myself: trips are made or broken based on the people one meets and one's own attitude. The cards were stacked against me this time, but I have higher hopes for my solo travels in the near future.

Travels with Parents

2009-04-09T10:44:00.003+09:00

AKA: Who's the Parent Now?

My parents recently visited me here in Japan, and I have to say that it was one of the best trips I've had yet. We all had fun, we accomplished a lot, and only a few things went wrong during the 9 days they were here.

Rather than go into detail of all the places we visited, as that would be a long entry indeed, I'll

just write a quick list.

Kyoto

- Sanjusangen-do

- Kiyomizudera (Kiyomizu Temple)

- Fushimi Inari

- Nijo Castle

- Maruyama Park

- Daikakuji

- Ryoanji

- Kinkakuji (the Golden Pavilion)

Tokyo

- Sensouji

- Studio Ghibli Museum

- Ueno Park

- Imperial Palace

- Harajuku

- Yoyogi Park

- Meiji Jingu (Meiji Shrine)

We also visited Ota briefly, and my parents were able to visit both my middle and elementary school, meet my teachers, and even meet some of the Japanese families who have been helping to take care of me here.

One of the most striking things of traveling in a country where I was the one best able to communicate was the way in which our normal roles were reversed - instead of being their child, it was as if I was their parent for the nine days they were here. I ordered food, I checked us in to hotels, I figured out where we were going and how we would get there. I think it was a fun change of pace for all involved.

I have three main stories from our travels that I think are worth chronicling in detail:

1. Dinner with the Saitos

2. Cutting Japanese Men Down to Size

3. North Korea and Other Difficulties

Look forward to these entries in the near future!

Things About Japan: Bathrooms

2009-03-19T09:32:00.000+09:00

A Primer

With my parents impending arrival in Japan, I find myself constantly trying to think of things they need to know before they arrive. Bathrooms certainly fall under this category.

1. The Toilets

Unless you're in an urban area, the toilets will most likely be squat instead of "Western style." What does this mean? Well, basically, there's a porcelin-lined hole in the ground.

They're easy to use, albeit slightly frightening at first. Straddle the porcelain, facing toward the deeper depression where the pool of water is - in the picture above, one would face toward the left side of the image. This is generally where the flushing pipes are, but the above is of a nice toilet that has a flush button on the wall. In any case, once you're properly oriented, you can drop your pants/lift your skirt, squat (don't sit!) down, and have at.

While these bathrooms can be ... distasteful ... I can't help but prefer these to Western toilets when it comes to less-than-clean, public bathrooms, as there's no skin-to-toilet contact.

2. Flushing
Japanese women are embarrassed by sounds made while in the bathroom (in short, the sound of pee). I really don't understand this. It's like being embarrassed that you can hear your footsteps while walking down the street; what other sounds would you expect? In any case, because of this embarrassment, Japanese women will flush while they're making use of bathroom facilities - one, two, sometimes even three times total. It's an awful waste of water.
In an effort to get women to stop wasting water, Japan did a wonderfully astute thing. Knowing that people are loathe to change their ways, they didn't encourage women to stop flushing. Instead, many places have installed motion-sensitive speakers in the bathrooms. When you sit down, these speakers automatically play a water-sound to cover up any noise you yourself might be making. Sometimes it's just white noise, but if you're lucky it's a flowing-river soundtrack, complete with the occasional bird chirp. These are usually to be found in more urban areas, of course - out in the boonies, expect to hear constant flushing. I find them hilarious and have a hard time not giggling whenever I come across them.

3. Washing Up
Once you're done with the toilet, there's washing up to consider. Two things are inevitably missing from the sink area: something to dry your hands with and soap. There are exceptions, of course, but it's generally assumed one won't find these things. The Japanese tend to carry a small towel or handkerchief for drying purposes (a green practice that I hope will spread), but the absence of soap continues to confuse me. There seems to be an opinion that water is enough, which it isn't. Antibacterial hand gel, anyone?

And there you have it! The interesting life of Japanese-style bathrooms.

Vision Test

2009-03-18T11:24:00.002+09:00

Earlier this week, I was washing cups for the regular, afternoon cup of tea when one of my teachers approached the kitchen-nook. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, noticed the cup in his hand, and figured that he wanted to rinse out his cup. Not wanting to make him wait through my washing 8 cups, I stepped back from the sink and gestured him forward, saying, "Please, go ahead." He laughed, began washing his cup, and commented that I "must have eyes in the back of [my] head to have noticed [him]." When he first said this, I wondered if my peripheral vision has improved recently, but fairly quickly laughed this off. Visual acuity probably had little to do with it.

Sherlock Holmes says in "A Scandal in Bohemia" the following gem:

"You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear."

I feel that Japan has trained me to be more observant. I was so caught up in not making mistakes when I first arrived that I forced myself to attend to small details. Apparently, I've successfully accomplished this training of my attention. It wasn't the quality of my eyesight, but instead the attention to what I saw that was important in my kitchen-nook interaction. In the moments like this one where my work pays off, well ... I can't help but be a little proud of myself.

It's interesting that what we see seems more influenced by our attention to such details than the quality of our eyesight. Of course, several psychological studies have noted this trend; my own observations are hardly pioneering opinions. If you doubt me, visit this site and read the directions carefully. (It's important that you read the follow-up link.) It just seems a greater reality now that I've experienced it so powerfully in my own little world.

Traveling with the Teachers

2009-03-17T14:48:00.002+09:00

AKA: Let's bonding more!

Now that we all know about group bonding experiences, let's talk specifics!

I have taken three trips with my teachers:

Version 1.0

The first was a day-trip shortly after I arrived, and I spent most of the time being confused and bored due to my lack of Japanese. I'm still not sure what the names of cities we visited are, but I did have fun. Nothing like being handed a beer at 8 in the morning to start off your cultural experience in Japan!

[Lavender ice-cream with Nagayama-sensei]

Version 2.0

The second trip was an overnight one with my 1st year/7th grade teachers (the teachers with whom I sat in the staffroom at the time). We went to Akita prefecture, the northernmost prefectures on the main island of Japan... in short, not Hokkaido. This was at the end of the school year last year, so mid- or late-March. It was my first time flying within Japan, which is hilariously different from flying domestic in America. Only checking ID at the ticketing counter? What a novel experience!

It was fun, but really exhausting. My Japanese was much higher than with the first trip, but being in Japanese-mode all day for two days took more out of me than I'd like to admit. I found myself avoiding conversation just because it took so much effort.

[A lake, possibly Lake Tazawa, in Akita with a golden girl statue]

[The view from our hotel]

Version 3.0

This year, I took another weekend trip with my teachers (mostly the same ones, though we're 2nd year teachers now) and, thanks to my higher level of Japanese, I was better able to understand more than just the conversation. We went to Ise and Nara, both places with lots of culture. Ise is where the main temple to the goddess Amaterasu can be found - she is arguably the most important goddess, having set the first Japanese emperor on the throne. Nara is, as I said in my "Travels with hannah" logs, the home of Daibutsu and deer.

It was a ridiculous amount of fun. On the one hand, I am better able to interact with my teachers and listen to Japanese for long periods of time. On the other, I liked the group more this year; the teachers who left were ones I had little relationship with, while the ones that stayed and the new ones are all a lot of fun. I also have stronger connections with these teachers due to the length of time I've been here and my greater ease with Japanese. Things just worked, and I was glad to be able to spend some out-of-school time with them.

[Outside of Ise's train station]

[Dinner at the ryokan (traditional Japanese-style hotel)]

Culture Backlash

2009-03-17T00:29:00.007+09:00

It would seem my cultural experiences here may be more harmful than helpful...

http://agesandangels.blogspot.com/2009/03/public-indecency-and-fear-overcome.html

If anyone needs me, I'll be humbly bowing out my apologies in Katherine's general direction.

Also: HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!
(Sorry, I couldn't help myself...)

Things about Japan: Enkai and Staff Trips

2009-03-16T11:04:00.007+09:00

AKA: Let's Bonding!*

I spent my last post talking about collective vs. individualistic cultures. This is somewhat of a part 2 of that conversation, delving into various bonding activities done here. As a sidenote, I'll be sticking to what I know, that being, bonding in the workplace.

The group is important, as is thinking of the group - maintaining group harmony, strengthening group ties, and so forth. While "team-building" is an almost dirty term back in the States, in Japan it is a very strong, present, and accepted reality. The bonding activity that was hardest for me to swallow at first was the enkai, or drinking party. The basic thought process, as I've heard and experienced it, goes like this:

1. We should bond as a group.

2. In order to bond, we should have fun.

3. As superiors are around, it is hard to have fun.

4. Therefore, we drink alcohol - that way, everyone can relax, have fun, and bond properly.
[5. What happens at the enkai stays at the enkai. Yep, this is a rule, though the less drinking there is, the less important this rule becomes.]

In short, enkai are parties where everyone drinks, gets drunk, and "bonds." These parties are held in almost any workplace, from big businesses to factories to, yes, schools.

Now, this is the basic idea - reality has its own elaborations. My enkai tend to not be the drunken affairs I hear business-men enkai are. A large part of this is due to the lack of public transportation in my prefecture. There is zero tolerance for drinking and driving in Japan, so how one gets home becomes an important part of the planning for the night; most choose the easy way out in not drinking and just driving themselves. In addition, the women in my school tend to avoid drinking alcohol, opting instead for oolong tea or orange juice. When only half of the staff is imbibing, it's easy to prevent a frat-party enkai.

Enkai happen on various levels, depending on the definition of a group. At my school, for example, there are several formal enkai every year to which every teacher is invited; these tend to commemorate the end of a trimester or the start of a new school year. In addition to this, the teachers with whom I sit in the staff room also have enkai every month or two - these are informal and are just sort of an excuse to get together outside of school.

A clarification in terms: informal enkai are like going out to dinner with people who just-so-happen to be coworkers. Formal enkai, on the other hand, require business attire and have a set of behavioral rules. For example, one is not allowed to pour one's own drink. It sounds strange, but the logic is that, if you're pouring your own drinks, it's because no one else is around you to do it for you - in short, you're not socializing. The rule forces you to seek out others, not only for your own drinking needs but for theirs, too.
Also, it's common for formal enkai to be followed by one, two, or even three informal enkai, with fewer attendees with each successive party and none of the rules of the formal affairs.

Another way of encouraging workplace bonding is with trips. These generally involve sub-groups rather than the whole office; for example, at middle schools, there generally are three or four sub-groups, as dictated by the seating arrangements in the staff room. The desks are divided into four islands, generally speaking - 1st year (7th grade) teachers, 2nd year (8th grade) teachers, 3rd year (9th grade) teachers, and non-teaching staff. When I mentioned before that I have enkai with the teachers with whom I sit in the staff room, I meant that I am part of the 2nd year teachers sub-group, and as such I have informal enkai with them. Trips are the same - one goes with one's subgroup.
Back to the trips themselves. Money is collected in advance, usually in monthly installments, and one person is put in charge of planning the trip and handling the money. Guess who gets this fun role: the least-senior member of the group, as usual. In any case, this collected money covers all of the trip expenses, from transportation to hotels to meals to souvenirs for the rest of the staff. It seems that the hotel is also generally a ryokan, or traditional Japanese-style hotel with onsen, tatami floors in the rooms, and futon (which are not, by the way, the things you find in your average dorm room at college). These trips are a chance for everyone to relax, have fun, and go sightseeing with each other.

While attendance isn't required at these bonding activities, it is expected, especially for the formal enkai. One who always avoids these events is thought to be snooty or not a group player and is subject to comments in reference to this. For example, one of my coworkers rarely, if ever, attends enkai, and I have more than once heard other teachers say the Japanese equivalent of "we aren't good enough for him" in response to his absence.

In the end, how fun these parties and trips are depends greatly on the pre-existing relationship one has with the others attending and on one's own status. The lower the status, the more likely you are to be assigned some odious task. In addition, if you don't like your coworkers, spending two or three hours at a party with them can be painful, much less the two or three days of a trip. Still, as personal matters are worth less than group ones here, it seems a common fate that one will sacrifice one's own enjoyment, keeping up a good face**, in order to be a participating member of the group.

I'm fortunate in that I rarely have to wonder whether it's better to be a group player or to get out of a boring affair; my teachers are fun and I enjoy spending time with them. I'm also in the unique position of being foreign, and thus exempt from a lot of the things expected of the Japanese. It's as though being foreign is akin to being mentally handicapped or a young child: "She can't help it. She doesn't know any better. She couldn't possibly understand." Though annoying at times, I have to say that I find it a useful excuse when I don't want to spend $50 on dinner and a night of discussing work affairs in Japanese...

-----

*The use of "let's" in Japanese is much more common than it is in English, and is thus overused when the Japanese speak in English. Also, there seems to be a misconception as to what the apostrophe is contracting, mistaking it for "is" instead of "us" (a fair mistake, in my mind). As such, the verb is usually conjugated in the gerund, as though to put the phrase in present progressive form, rather than the first person plural, present tense: "let is dancing" instead of "let us dance."

I've experienced everything from seeing "let's eating" written on menus to hearing "let's dancing" used as an opener to a dance party. It's both funny and cringe-worthy.

** Yet another aspect of Japan's group-oriented culture is the importance of having a face for the public and a face for in private; in other words, not letting your real emotions show unless you're with close friends. There are even words for these faces in Japanese: tatemae (your public face) and honne (your inner face). The Japanese are, to make a sweeping assumption, very well practiced at keeping their real thoughts to themselves.

Things About Japan: Individualism

2009-03-13T15:06:00.003+09:00

AKA: Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You...

You may have gleaned it from my entries or from your own past learning, but Japan is very much a collective culture. A great example of this is seen from a set of idioms. In America, we say:

"The squeaky wheel gets the grease."

If a wheel didn't squeak, we wouldn't think to grease it. In short, don't be afraid to speak out.
In Japan, however, it's this:

"The nail that sticks up will be hammered down."

A nail that sticks up out of the woodwork is a problem. If you stick out, you will be forcibly put back into place.

I knew of these differences before I came and thought I was set - I knew that I should be careful to not appear proud or full of myself. What I didn't think of, however, was what this would mean for my classes. Students are ridiculously unwilling to volunteer, for example. In elementary school, games that require choosing a side ("I like ~" vs. "I don't like ~," for example) usually involve students switching sides at least once, having originally gone with their opinion and then amended to fit better with the majority of their friends. Still, the worst experience I had with this, by far, was with one of my higher-level 3rd years (9th graders) last year.

Megumi was one of my speech contest girls - she lived in the States for 5 years (from age of 5 to 10), and her grasp on English is amazingly strong. As a 9th grader, she was testing in at a college level of English. Her accent was American and flawless. She was more than fluent and was striving to push her limits even further. Yet, in class, if Megumi was called upon to answer a question, she would answer (1) only after much protesting ["Me? Why me?"] and (2) with a very strong, Japanese accent ["Ai see za TEMpuru ovaa zeeaaa" instead of "I see the temple over there"]. Why? To keep from sticking out. Everyone knew that Megumi lived in the States for a long time, but so long as she kept up the act that she was just another 9th grader being forced to take English, it didn't matter.

While I consider these examples to be obvious problems, collectivism definitely has advantages over individualism. Japan is much cleaner than America, though there are fewer trash cans to be found - this is in large part, I feel, because there is greater respect for public property in a system that encourages one to think about others over one's own convenience. In classes, students rarely lie about having completed a goal/activity, even when a reward is involved, because betraying the group in order to further one's individual goals isn't worth it. Theft rarely seems to be a problem here, both for individuals and for stores. And these are only a few examples of how the collective attitude "wins" over its counterpart.

All and all, collectivism is an interesting study for a girl who was taught, both by family and society, the values of "standing on her own two feet."

Ganbarimashou.

2009-03-10T13:08:00.004+09:00

AKA: "Let's do our best."

Today is my second day at work after being gone for a week - I did some traveling, first with my teachers and then on my own, of which I'll be writing shortly. In any case, I'm still a little off of my regular schedule as far as sleep is concerned, my apartment is a mess for a variety of reasons, and I'm having trouble getting back into the work groove. My mind was so focused on first this vacation and secondly on the upcoming visit from my parents that I somewhat forgot I still have to teach 3 weeks of classes (including this one) until the school year is over, and then another 3.5 months of classes after that.

I was dragging my feet, feeling overworked and resentful, until I realized something:
This is my job. My feelings don't come into play.
It wasn't a happy awakening, but it somehow helps. Travel is important to me, of course, but the priority right now is teaching classes. I may not want to, I may not enjoy it, but it's my job - will be until my contract ends in August - and thus must take top priority.

I'm suffering from a variety of things, I think - the feelings of "senioritis" from the ending of a school year and from my own imminent departure; early onset of spring fever; a down-swing on the Culture Shock graph of my time here; looking so far in the future as far as my plans are concerned that I forget where I am in the present. It doesn't change the fact that I've 5 more months to live here and, though the time will fly as the end draws closer, it's still a sizable chunk of time.

I'm trying to set small goals: "get through the day" and "get to the weekend" rather than looking at the longer-term. I have things to look forward to. I just have to keep things manageable until then.

Travels with hannah V

2009-03-09T15:06:00.000+09:00

An Historic Day

On 20th January, all eyes seemed to be watching Washington D.C. As we were regularly reminded, it was "an historic day" (to steal from Jon Stewart) and marked the start of a new era of politics in America and, hopefully, around the world. Me? I wasn't watching TV; I wasn't even near one. Nor was I hovering at a computer or by a radio. I was spending my historic day in a once-in-a-lifetime way: I was celebrating hannah's birthday and the inauguration with her in Obama, Japan.

For those of you who haven't heard about or seen Obama, Japan in the news, the name "obama" in Japanese translates to "small harbor" - this makes it a rather common name, and there are at least three cities bearing it here. The biggest is in Fukui prefecture, near Kyoto. (For more information, you can read about Obama-shi on Wikipedia.)

The plans for visiting Obama began long before hannah arrived - I made a flip comment about visiting the city being a fun way to celebrate her birthday, as it was decently close to Kyoto, and hannah instantly jumped on it. Her energy spurred my energy and soon I found myself making as many arrangements as possible to allow us to be in Obama for the inauguration.

We set out from Kyoto early on the 20th, but various problems (mostly with my general ineptitude) had us arriving at Obama at around 2 or so in the afternoon. We were practically flying when we entered the town and started seeing the Obama paraphernalia.

We were given directions to the Obama store in town where we could satisfy our need to buy, buy, buy, and found that we weren't the only tourists in town. Aside from the bus or two of Japanese tourists, we met with two other Americans in the store - the only other foreigners we'd see while in the town. One was a professional photographer; the other was simply another person who couldn't resist being in Obama on Inauguration Day. We gushed, giggled, laughed, took our pictures with ridiculous Obama things, and in general had a good time.

The story behind this is that there is a comedian in Japan who is considered the "Japanese Obama" as he looks like the President. As far as I can tell, that means he has short hair and ears that stick out. In any case, the statue of Japanese-Obama was almost as frightening as their depictions of the Commander-in-Chief himself.

hannah and I decided to explore a little and get lunch, so we split off from the other two Americans and began walking, having been given a recommendation for a restaurant by an employee of the Obama store. It was at this point that things began to weigh in on us: the stares, few of which were merely curious; the look of complete and utter shock that met my every use of Japanese; the continual reappearance of certain faces that watched us intently as we walked around the town, waiting, it seemed, for us to commit some dastardly crime. When we had first entered the town, hannah and I regretted that we would be returning to Kyoto that night; by the time we found a place that was open for lunch, we were thanking God that we weren't compelled to stay. In all of my time in Japan, I've never felt so consistently and blatantly watched. It occurred to me then that the town only celebrated President Obama for his fame and name, and not for a single thing for which he stands. It was a sigh of relief rather than one of sadness that we gave as our train pulled away from the station and took us safely back on the long road toward Kyoto.

There was one thing to save the end of our visit, however - as we made our way to the train station again after lunch, a news team ran up to us and asked if they could interview us for the news on NHK, a rather large station here (on the level of Fox, TBS, or NBC). They asked us our thoughts on the city (we lied through our teeth) and our thoughts on our to-be president. I did the interview in Japanese, to my great pride. I'm not sure that the interview ever made it into the news, and I know that it didn't appear nationally even if it did, but it does at the very least provide us with a wonderful story. Of all the things I anticipated experiencing in Japan, I never expected being interviewed by a Japanese news station to be one of them!

In the end, Obama is a small, insular town and their reaction to foreigners is sad, but not unexpected. Still, it was frustrating to see that a place was so willing to celebrate the election of our president but was unwilling to understand what the election meant. While President Obama stands for change in a number of ways for Americans, he was merely a face and a name to use for the residents of Obama, and a way to bring tourists to their small town that, in the end, they didn't really want. I can't find it in myself to give the town much credit. Still, America has elected and sworn in a black president - even the most unexpected of changes can happen. Let's hope Obama, Japan will catch the bug.

Things about Japan: Brushing Teeth

2009-02-28T23:10:00.002+09:00

When the bell signifying the end of lunch chimes, several things happen all at once. The quiet staff room suddenly becomes a bustling thoroughfare for teachers returning from their homerooms, students searching for So-and-So-sensei to ask about the homework for tomorrow, and staff members trying to both remove the food and start the tea in the lunch/post-lunch change-over. Still by far the strangest activity to me is this: within five minutes of the lunch being over, the kitchen sink is one of the hardest places to access in the staff room. Why?
Teachers are brushing their teeth.

As soon as the lunch trays are whisked away, toothbrushes appear from within desks and purses, often in small cases and accompanied by small tubes of toothpaste. These kits can be purchased in most dollar stores and convenience stores. Even funnier, though, is when lunch is had outside of the school - rather than brushing at the restaurant, a mass movement to brush occurs once everyone has returned to the school. While part of me is impressed by their dedication, the feeling is undercut by the fact that the toothpaste with which they brush, as well as the water from the tap, are both lacking entirely in fluoride.

"Call me!"

2009-02-27T16:19:00.000+09:00

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging for ~~this stupid story~~ these stupid stories (updated to include the second story).

Story 1
I was "signing in" at the front of the staff room around 3 when one of the 2nd year boys, a nice kid and good student, opened the door. The following all took place in English (his rather accented):

Boy: "Leslie!"
Me: "Yeeees?"
Boy: "Call me! *jiggles hand like a phone near his ear*"
Me: " ... "
Boy: "Joke, joke. Give me a break!"

Cue me to die laughing.

Story 2
Right at 4, another of my 2nd year boys who is nice and a good student opened the door to the staff room. Normally, when students enter the staff room, they say "excuse me" in Japanese - しつれいします (shitsureishimasu). They say this again, in past tense, when they leave - しつれいしました (shitsureishimashita). This student, however, decided to say it in English instead:

Student: "Excuse me!"
Me: "Yes?"
Student: "..."
A Teacher: "[in Japanese] HA! Thought you'd be cool and come in using English, but you didn't think about what you'd have to say after 'excuse me,' did you?"
Student: "Uhhhhhh..."
Teachers: *chortle*
Student: "..I can't speak English, but I can speak Japanese. 田中先生, 来てください！ (Tanaka-sensei, please come here!)"
Teachers: *burst out laughing*

You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.

Travels with hannah IV

2009-02-27T15:51:00.002+09:00

My Reunion with Kyoto

When I first visited Kyoto last March, I wrote of it as being an old love, a place with which I felt a relaxed and comfortable connection. Still, as I afforded at the time, we were visiting Kyoto at the height of its splendor, and that a great deal of my love for the city was because I considered it such a gorgeous place. January, surely, would show me a drastically different city.

Somehow, even in the midst of a barren backdrop, Kyoto maintained its beauty. Perhaps my eyes were blinded by familiarity (or, worse, general travel exhaustion), but on the whole I found the city to please me as it had last year. I still find myself unable to talk about Kyoto in specifics. For some reason, the city eludes my ability to discuss it properly to this day. Perhaps the third time will be the charm, and I will finally write a substantial post on it after my trip there with my parents in late March. The two of us had only a day there, so we hit three of what I considered to be the most important places (by which, of course, I mean my favorites): Kiyomizudera temple, Kinkakuji, and Fushimi Inari.

Kiyomizudera temple is beautiful, a description it earns from me due almost entirely due to two things: the trees surrounding it, which alternate between being laden with cherry blossoms in spring and shedding beautiful leaves in fall; and the materials of structure itself. The wooden buildings are a rich brown, but with a tinge of gray from the weather - it's warm, old, and comforting. In some areas of the complex, stone replaces wood, and the moss-encrusted stones give as much character and appeal to the structures as the gray of the tinged wood. It's truly a beautiful place.

Kinkakuji, the "Golden Pavilion," is gorgeous on first glance but is somewhat lacking in substance as far as I'm concerned. It is perfectly situated and striking, but the fact of the matter is that it was made to be a vacation spot for an emperor long ago, and is in fact a replica due to the fanatically-jealous acts of a monk in the '80s. It's a place to walk at, ooh and ahh, and then move on.

hannah and Kinkakuji - which is more super-special awesome? No contest; it's clearly hannah.

Fushimi Inari is first impressive and then soothing. The sheer number of red torii gates is enough to intimidate, but the feeling of walking past gate after gate, the seeming rhythm they make as they pass by ones peripheral vision, is wonderfully relaxing. It really is one of my favorite places in Japan.

We spent the evening relaxing in our hostel, the Hanakiya Inn - I recommend it to any of my readers should they ever find themselves in the area. And the next morning we were up early and on our way to our celebration of hannah's 24th birthday...

Things about Japan: Mayonnaise, Corn, and Tabasco Sauce

2009-02-24T18:36:00.004+09:00

When eating in Japan, three ingredients will often make a surprising appearance:

1. Mayonnaise
This is on everything, be it a Western dish or a Japanese one. I have had pizza with mayonnaise on top, rice balls with chicken-and-mayo centers - even sushi isn't safe from mayo's greasy grasp. In addition, Japanese mayonnaise is somewhat heavier and more ... "fragrant" ... than its American cousin. I avoid it whenever possible, which isn't nearly as often as I should like.

2. Corn
Though it is often paired with mayonnaise, corn is most commonly found as a staple topping for pizza. As my mother would say, "Why, we do not know." It is often the sweeter version than I'm used to finding in the South, to add insult to injury.

3. Tabasco Sauce
If you order a food that is somewhat Italian in nature (as in, pasta or pizza), be prepared for a small bottle of Tabasco sauce to accompany the meal. The Japanese are not as fond of spicy things as its being the home of wasabi would have one imagine, so I often find this quite amusing. Still, having suspended my belief long enough to add it to a pasta dish long ago, I do find the addition a pleasant one on both pasta and pizza.
What of the Mexican food with which one normally imagines Tabasco sauce? The cuisine is often passed over for several reasons - Mexico is too far, and most of the regular ingredients have to be imported at great expense. On top of this, as I mentioned before, the Japanese are not too fond of spicy foods. That being said, Mexican and South-Western restaurants can be found here, and even outside of Tokyo - one only has to be willing to search. Though be warned: the creamy sauce with your nachos, tacos, and burritos is neither cheese nor sour cream.

... It's mayonnaise.

Stories from the Staff Room

2009-02-20T13:31:00.003+09:00

I have a random memory from 3rd grade: I was walking down the halls and went past two teachers. It was either before school, after school, or during class, as there were hardly any students in the hall, so the teachers were talking fairly freely. What were they doing? Gossipping about a student. I realized, with a start, that teachers might just be the worst gossips ever, having not only the camaraderie of there being many teachers in a school but also the rich fodder of students lives to fuel the flames.

Earlier this morning, the groundskeeper found a pencil bag while doing his rounds. As it was outside of the entrance the 1st and 2nd year (7th and 8th grader) students use, he showed it to the 1st and 2nd year teachers in the staff room, saying, "If any students say they've lost their pencil case, the one I found is here."

Saito-sensei took the bag and looked inside to see if there was anything to identify the owner. He fairly quickly stated it was owned by "a boy, and a suspicious one at that." This started a flurry of comments on the case - maybe it's a girl's; no, it's too big and manly; look at the inside, what's inside; it's definitely a boy, a girl would have cuter things; there are cartoon girl charms on the outside, couldn't it be a girl's? ...

And then Saito-sensei gave his assessment: "It's definitely a boy's. The charms just show he's got some perverted thoughts." He looked around at the male teachers in the room for support, who chuckled and nodded. Not being able to resist an opportunity to tease Saito-sensei, I told him he must be hoping to see the boy come to get it so he could point and say, "Ah! There's the suspicious boy!" He laughed, some others laughed, and the staff room's conversation flowed on to other things.

It all took about 3 minutes, but it's so indicative of how teachers interact and gossip in the staff room here. Students make up most of the conversation - so-and-so was acting the fool in class today, these students are causing trouble, I don't know what so-and-so's parents are thinking, this kid is a total pervert... the list goes on. I can't imagine that it's any different from the States. If anything, it's probably worse here, as the teachers here don't have their own rooms and thus always spend time in the "teacher's lounge" / staff room, affording them greater opportunities to swap tales.

When I was younger, the idea of gossipping teachers horrified me because I feared being the subject of their talk. In the end, though, it's probably unavoidable - we spend so much of our time interacting with students who will inevitably do stupid, immature, and funny things. I will say one thing for it, though: teachers being gossips certainly is an unanticipated bridge across the culture gap!

Travels with hannah III

2009-02-20T13:19:00.001+09:00

Castles, Nakedness and Okonomiyaki

Our first morning in Osaka was a dreary one, unfortunately, but we braved the drizzle and made our way out to Osaka-jo, or Osaka Castle. It's a recreation, the original castle having been destroyed long ago, and the entire inside is devoted to enlightening the general public of the history of the castle and of the wars for the unification of Japan. Still, as English explanations were rare, hannah and I found ourselves making quick rounds, admiring the art and artifacts and passing over the plaques.

Osaka castle was interesting in that tourists were shuffled to the top level of the castle first, where one is afforded a view over the city, and then slowly make their way down, floor by floor, to the base again. It must be a way to encourage people to see the exhibits, although I found it to be somewhat anticlimatic due to my inability to read the history presented there. Oh well. At least we had ice cream outside!

After the castle, we made our way to an onsen, or "hot spring/pubilc bathing area," that had been recommended to us by the owner of our hostel. Now, when I say "we made our way," what I really mean is "I got us horrendously lost and we did about five times as much walking as we should have, for I am an idiot." Now, I've written a little about onsening before, but this time, things were a little different. On the one hand, I am now an onsen veteran - I've been onsenning with other ALTs, with teachers, and even once with an ex-student and her mother. My level of Japanese is also higher, so I'm fairly well able to navigate on my own. On the other hand, hannah has a tattoo.

Tattoos seem innocuous to most Westerners, I imagine. In Japan, howerver, tattoos have long been owned by the Japanese mafia. Even now, few people outside of the mafia get tattoos, and the gangsters flaunt their monopoly over the form with full-body coverings of dramatic art. It's beautiful in the same way coral snakes are - colorful, bright, and a sign of danger. Anyway, as there is nakedness involved and tattoos can be seen there, most bathing houses have a "no tattoo" rule in place as a way to keep out gangsters. (A cynical view of this would be that it is also to keep out foreigners.) I don't know why the gangsters would follow the rule, to be honest, because they know no one is going to fight them, but the rule is there in any case. I talked about the issue of hannah's tattoo before the trip with teachers and some Japanese friends, and the general consensus was that, as the tattoo is on her hip, she could "just hide it with the towel - it'll totally be fine." It was with that vote in mind that we headed to this onsen in the first place.

I've been to several bath houses, but never before have I seen such full plastering of a place in "no tatttos!" signs. They were in English, Japanese, and Korean if I remember correctly, and were not only displayed at the entrance, but also on every single shoe locker and as a sign at the front desk. My fears began rising dramatically, and I couldn't help but whisper "You've GOT to keep covered" and "Man, we need to be careful" under my breath to hannah, a reminder she probably didn't need to hear.

We anxiously made our way into the changing room, got lockers on the far side of the room where hannah could hide her tattoo against a wall while changing, and undressed. The elaborate schemes continued throughout our entire time in the baths - getting a showering seat where hannah could hide a little, seating in the baths themselves...it was almost like we should be humming the Mission Impossible theme. Still, we spent some hour or so there without any incidents, and in fact were able to relax quite well despite the fear over her tattoo. We celebrated quietly when hannah put on her jeans again, having completed our onsen mission fully and with flying colors. We spent a little time relaxing in the lobby with a bowl of noodles and cold milk in traditional, Japanese style, and then made our way outside.

We were still a little snacky, so we found an okonomiyaki-ya ("ya" means "shop" or "store") at which to enjoy the local favorite. People all over Japan talk about Osaka okonomiyaki - in fact, the wikipedia page for okonomiyaki says that the dish is referred to as "Osaka soul food." The place where we went was smoky, dark, and a little dirty, which is just the way you want your okonomiyaki-ya - it's like how the best diners have to be a little dingy. We ate, drank beer, and chatted under the watchful eye of the owner and cook who clearly didn't expect a pair of foreign women in his store. Then, with full bellies and relaxed bodies, we made our way back to our hostel to prepare for our trip to Kyoto the next morning.

Cute and Frightening

2009-02-12T18:48:00.003+09:00

In Japanese, the words for "cute" and "frightening" can be easy to mix up. "Kawaii" (cute) and "kowai" (frightening) are mostly differentiated by emphasis; "kawaii" holds out the final "i" sound slightly longer than "kowai," giving it an added syllable. Otherwise, the two words are, despite the "o" and "a" difference, fairly similar in sound. It was hard for me, in the first month or so that I arrived, to make this distinction while using the words to others, though I could hear it easily enough myself. In any case, it's long been amusing to me that there is so little distinguishing the difference between these denotatively-opposed words.

Then again, maybe that isn't something limited to semantics.

Today, at the end of class, one of my 2nd graders asked me for my signature. This isn't uncommon - the kids like to watch me sign and like to see how crazy (and long) my signature is compared what they're accustomed to seeing. I later was eating lunch with this same class, and the same girl came to me with her notebook, opened to the page I'd signed at the end of class, and said, "Could you fill this page with your signature, just like that one?" Odd, but OK, why not? I signed the page an extra 9 times. (As I did so, I commented that it was like I was having "signing practice." As others laughed, the girl said without missing a beat, "You're an adult, so it's OK." I'm still not sure why my being an adult has anything to do with my signature practice, but her assurance that it mattered was pretty cute.)

After I finish signing, the girl excitedly took her notebook back and started showing it off to other students at her lunch table. Their responses of "wow, that's a lot of signatures" got her even more excited and, being revved to the max and in need of a new audience, the girl went running across the room, yelling "IT'S LESLIE POWER!!"

That's right - having 10 of my signatures is equivalent to being bitten by a radioactive spider, being male and having imbibed the Water of Life, or being under the influence of a sun different from the one of your home world.

While I was trying my best not to laugh too loudly at this (resisting laughing all together would require a piece of paper with 10 of my signatures on it), the skin on the back of my neck crawled just the slightest at this exuberance. It's somewhat strange to be that special to a kid when you don't know their name, don't have any strong or personal connection with them, and only see them once a month. It was clear to me that the only saving grace of this encounter is the girl's youth and gender - I would have been significantly more disturbed were she a boy, or were she older than 7 or 8. And yet, I have to admit that it was still pretty adorable.

Cute and frightening? The evidence is in. It comes in the form of a Venn diagram, and the overlapping territory is broad. If you go looking, I'm sure you'll find several things from Japan: Goth versions of Hello Kitty, Harajuku Lolitas, and a little 7 year-old with her notebook.

Travels with hannah II

2009-02-11T12:45:00.001+09:00

A Night in Tokyo, Turn Left at Nara, and Straight On Till Osaka.

We got into Tokyo late on Friday night and checked in to our hostel, one of the cutest places I've seen in a long time. I love a hostel that takes itself less than seriously.

A battle between an Octopus Samura and an Octopus Ninja raged up the stairwell.
Neither hannah nor myself being big city girls, we made our way out of Tokyo early Saturday morning. We were on a shinkansen (bullet train) by 10:30 and on our way to Nara, the first of our stops.

Nara is famous for a particular area, Nara Park, which is home to a number of well-known temples, pagodas, and even natural formations. As with all cities, there are more things to see than one can take in a day, and our time was even more limited than this - we were staying only a few hours. With this in mind, our main goals* were limited to seeing Daibutsu, a large statue of Buddha, and deer.

Yes, deer. Nara park is home to a number of deer made tame from years of being fed by tourists. The deer wander the park freely, impeding traffic and wandering without any apparent cares or woes. Street vendors sell "deer crackers" for those wishing to feed the deer, and any impression the deer have that you might be in possession of such treats will lead to them crowding around you in hopes of your patronage.

Daibutsu is housed in Daibutsu-den, which takes claim to being the largest wooden building in the world. Daibutsu himself is nothing to sniff at, measuring in at over 49 feet in his sitting splendor. He really was beautiful. I wouldn't mind visiting him again, sitting with him, letting the tourists wander by while we understood through silence.

We were soon on the train again and heading to Osaka, our last destination for the day. After unintentionally making the rounds of the city via the Osaka loop, we found our hostel and settled in for a few moments before heading out again. The hostel's landlady was adorable and more than happy to recommend a karaoke place to us. We walked, and walked, and walked, and after several mishaps (and a run in with a very drunk bunch of sexagenarians), we found ourselves settled in to a room.

If you've ever the chance to karaoke while in Japan, I highly recommend you do so, if only for the entertainment value in selecting songs like Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back," middle school sentimentals, and, of course, "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." I have to credit Caitlin with finding this last one, and ever since I've been using it as one of the more entertaining surprises on the karaoke list. (I'm also a fan of Rick Rollin' the proceedings. Shhh, don't tell anyone.)
Doubt my sincerity? Well, Doubting Thomas, stick your finger in this!

Victory is mine.

Another trick for those who wish to win at Japanese karaoke - bring your own drinks. By the end of the night, hannah and I were giggly, happy, and entirely enjoying our "suurou daun" ("throw down") of an evening. We made our way back to the hostel just in time for curfew and slept as only one can after a full and fulfilling day.

* Now, I say "our main goals," but in the interest of full disclosure, I should say that hannah was being used as an excuse for me to finally visit Nara and, later, Osaka. Still, hannah was an ever compliant guest and allowed me these liberties.

Travels with hannah I

2009-02-10T09:31:00.002+09:00

AKA: Ota at Large - The first of five posts on my 10 days with hannah

Visitors are always an occasion for joy, but I was especially excited about seeing hannah. Having lived together for 3.5 years, we always seem to refer to the other as "my roommate," despite the distances between us. Having been separated for 1.5 years after having lived together for so long, we were more than overdue for a long visit.

TUESDAY (13 January)
I was distracted all day, counting down the hours and minutes until hannah's arrival and worrying about a variety of concerns - space in my apartment, the cold, etc. Once I saw hannah at the station that evening, however, my built-up worries about the trip began to dissipate and were quickly replaced with school-girly joy. We squealed and giggled and stayed up talking entirely too late that night.

WEDNESDAY (14 January)
I ran on caffeine the next day, Wednesday, and rushed home after school to prepare hannah and Ian for our first activity - dinner with the Saito family.

The Saitos are some of my favorite people. The eldest daughter was one of my middle school students last year; now that she is in high school, I tutor her once a week. Her younger sister is a first year (a 7th grader) at my middle school. The mother, Ms. Saito, is amazing - she truly treats me like one of her own, bringing me soup when I'm sick, offering to drive me places whenever I have need - in fact, she took me to the station to pick up hannah - and in general tries her best to make me feel comfortable and happy while here in Japan. I had few interactions with the husband, but they were all cheerful and warm - in short, they are an amazing family.

The week before hannah arrived, I told the Saitos that she would be coming and, if they liked, my weekly tutoring session with the eldest could be with hannah as well. Within moments, Ms. Saito turned my offer into a dinner party, inviting my brother to join the fun. By the time the dinner actually arrived, even more had been invited - the dinner party ended up having 7 people.

Armed with flowers as a gift, the three of us went to the Saitos that night. As the food was brought out, our eyes popped. There was a sushi-rice dish that was large enough on its own to feed us all, but of course there were another three or four courses at least, each of similar size to the first. In addition to this were three large cakes of different flavors, each some 3 layers tall. We were encouraged to take much of this home, more than the three of us were likely to eat in the coming days.

The conversation, despite my earlier hopes of encouraging my students to use English, was largely in Japanese. Still, one of the guests, a retired physics professor at the elite Tokyo Univeristy, was well-versed in English, so the conversation switched languages fairly frequently. We covered a variety of topics, enjoyed pleasant food and company, and in general had a blast.

THURSDAY (15 January)
The next day was another one that encouraged the use of caffeine on my part. I once again rushed home after school, this time to hurry hannah and myself off to the bus stop. We made our way into Ota and met up with several other ALTs (Bob, Clarissa, and Mia) for dinner. Ah, finally - English reigned over the dinner table. I was able to give hannah a view of my life here as well as give my ALT friends a view of my past and someone who was very influential in making me the (wonderful!) person I am today. All in all, we had fun, ate delicious Indian food, and enjoyed ourselves.

Clarissa and Mia went off to teach an English class, while Bob, hannah, and I went to the local arcade. Arcades in Japan are near polar opposites from those in America - they're smoke-filled, for starters, and crowded with adults as well as children. They're also much, much louder, to the point that yelling becomes the only way of communication. Still, the draw is there, and Bob and I introduced the Taiko drum game to hannah. If you haven't seen this game yet, please watch this youtube link - the game is more fun than I can say.

After an hour or so at the arcade, mostly spent at the Taiko game, we all made our respective ways home. hannah and I took a taxi back, and I spent nearly all of the 15 or 20 minute ride in an intense conversation with the driver. My triumph of that ride was recognizing the Japanese word for "compulsory education." (Go me.) hannah's triumph was not screaming out of boredom and language frustrations.

FRIDAY (16 January)
Friday was a wonderful day, as hannah joined me at school! She came with me my two classes, met my teachers, and suffered the suppositions of my students ("Is she [hannah] your sister?" "Is she [hannah] your daughter?" "Does she have any boyfriends?"). We played a board game in my classes and hannah helped, getting to enjoy the confusion my students had with things like "jumping jacks" and "high-fives." I also showed her around the school and explained as we went. All in all, it was a fun day.

That is, it was until that evening. We were gathering our things, preparing to leave for Tokyo, when disaster struck. I had, sometime in October, agreed to be a judge for a speech contest but had forgotten to write down the date. As (bad) luck would have it, the contest was to be the next day, Saturday, when hannah and I were planning to be in Kyoto. A half hour of scrambling and praying later, I had a replacement and was given the OK to be absent at the proceedings. With a lighter heart and mind, hannah and I made our way to Tokyo.

Lasting Impressions

2009-02-07T18:48:00.005+09:00

At the end-of-year enkai, or drinking party, in December, I sat in a group largely made up of teachers with whom I'm not so familiar. This is desired at a drinking party, as mixing is encouraged. For example, drawing lots for one's seat is fairly common; it breaks up the cliques that naturally group together. Still, for an ALT, it tends to be an awkward experience. If the teachers around you can't speak English, they often feel they can't communicate with you. If you're not comfortable with Japanese, you feel you can't communicate with them.

Still, this was fairly soon after the JLPT, so my confidence in my Japanese was higher than ever. I was ready to do my best. Unfortunately, the teachers around me weren't so excited, especially the one sitting to my left. Fujii-sensei, one of the younger teachers in my office, always has an energetic, magnetic air - it's no surprise the students like them as much as they do. Still, he was tense as he sat down next to me, and his thoughts were as clear as if he had spoken them: "Why did I have to draw this seat?"

I took his stiffness as a challenge. As the party progressed, I listened carefully to the conversation and jumped in when I had something interesting to add. It took several tries, but in a discussion about languages, Fujii-sensei reacted to my comments with excitement and began speaking directly with me. (さつが国語の先生！ - That's a Japanese [language] teacher for ya!) By the end of the night, Fujii-sensei was completely comfortable around me, even to the point of asking if I'd be going to round two of the drinking party. My mission was successfully completed.

My goal at the time was rather short-term: make the party more enjoyable for both myself and those sitting around me. I've since had the distinct pleasure in realizing that the impression I made has been much longer lasting than expected. Just this past Friday, I was walking with a teacher to class and along the way, we ran into Fujii-sensei and two students in the hall. The students said "hello" to me in English, as is the regular way of it when I run into students outside of class, but weren't sure whether to greet the natively-Japanese English teacher with "hello" or "konnichi wa." As they giggled over this, Fujii-sensei spoke up. "You know, Leslie speaks amazing Japanese. It's better than mine!"
"That isn't so," I responded in Japanese. The students laughed.
"No, it really is great. In fact, do you want to teach this next class in my place?"
I smiled slightly. "That's OK."
Language mistake! I meant to imply "Thanks, but no thanks," but instead ended up saying, "Sure, sounds fine." Fujii-sensei laughed and perked up.
"She said it's OK! Excellent!"
I backpedaled. "My Japanese lesson would be pretty short, though. 'OK, so...Bye bye!' "
"Only that much?" He laughed again. By this point, we had reached our respective classrooms, so he and the students went to theirs and my English teacher and I went to ours.
It may not seem like much, but it's leaps and bounds above my previous (read: non-existent) interactions with Fujii-sensei.

As the year progresses, I become more and more frustrated with my students and their antics. It's at these times when my good relationship with my staff buoys me above the classroom idiocy and keeps me afloat; it's as if, every time I enter the staff room, I'm on an island of sanity amidst the sea of struggle that is my school. It's nice to know that this island extends past my department and my deskmates. There's a sense of accomplishment too, as if I annex each teacher with whom I have a good relation, adding him or her to my island territory. (I guess I'm just a dictator at heart. <3) Making friends is hard; making friends in a foreign language is harder; making friends in a foreign language when they've already made up their mind about you is harder still.

...I should make myself merit badges for this. ;)

Korea, part five - Things About Korea

2009-02-06T18:45:00.000+09:00

AKA: *sings* These are a few of those cultural things...

1. Couples
Christmas is a huge dating holiday in Asia, so we had plenty of opportunities to observe the Korean couple in their natural habitat while we were in Seoul. One of the things that we noticed rather quickly was the number of couples with matching hats, matching clothing, or, worst of all: matching Christmas sweaters. You know, the kind your mother would give you or make for you every year with a goofy reindeer or something of the sort on the front, the kind you hope will disappear in the back of your closet and never come back?
Those. Matching.
Cue stomach evacuation.
I asked Chantelle who in the couple pushed this matching fashion, guessing that it was the sort of thing the girl forced on the guy, and to my surprise she said that the originator could be either of the couple, but was most likely something both wanted to do. Different strokes...

2. Hats
Outside of the matching couple hats, there were two kinds that made me laugh a lot every time I saw them. The first was a fuzzy cap with ear flaps, all of which was made to look like the top part of the face of famous, cute characters, like Hello Kitty and Doraemon (wikipedia). The end result, however, was to make it look like someone had gone on a Hello Kitty safari hunt and turn their kill into a nice, skinned-Kitty hat. It was somewhat dreadful. Even more dreadful, in my book, were the not-small-children people who would wear these...people who were, many times, older than me.
The second was the Atlanta Braves cap. I saw a couple of men wearing them on the subway and got really excited before Chantelle explained that a celebrity in Korea has recently begun wearing the hat and talking about "A-town." I still somewhat chuckle when I think of the Braves being "supported" in this fashion.

3. Eating utensils
In Korea, chopsticks are not rounded but flat, and are made of metal rather than of lacquered wood. They take a little time to get used to and require a bit more manipulation with the fingers to get them comfortable, but are nice in their own way. In addition, meals are either eaten with chopsticks or with spoons - you will always be brought these implements, whether or not you will need to use both, but will be given no other options unless you're in a restaurant serving Western food.

4. PC-Bongs
This sounds interesting, I imagine, to an English-speaking community, and I hate to be the bearer of un-fun news. "Bong" is the Korean word for "room," and PC-Bongs are just that - rooms filled to the brim with computers, the Korean version of an internet cafe. If you need to print, to scan, to surf the internet, all can be done from a PC Bong. An hour of time on the internet costs around 1,000 won, which is a little less than a dollar at present.
This being said, PC Bongs aren't used for internet surfing so much by the Korean populace, but instead for online gaming. At any point, a PC Bong will be half filled with gamers playing everything from World of Warcraft to Everquest, all of which are already loaded on the computers. These games are extremely popular, and PC Bongs are equipped to encourage the long stays of their guests: snacks and drinks are sold, and there is often a smoking section, which will allow those with a nicotine craving to maintain their play time rather than leaving the sanctity of the Bong.

5. The Won
The won is fairly weak against the dollar and the yen right now, being around 1300 won to the dollar. This was a wonderful thing for us, as travelers, and I was excited about the prospect of getting more for my buck than in Japan. However, there are only three denominations of bill in Korean currency at present: 1,000 won, 5,000 won, and 10,000 won. Roughly $1, $5, and $10 respectively. In short, traveling with any amount of money is uncomfortable, but probably safer - if you're less likely to have money stolen from you if you're not always carrying it with you.

6. Military Service
South Korea has a required military service of two years. These two years can be taken within a certain period of time, so you don't notice a certain age range missing so much. What this meant at Christmas, though, was that there were soldiers on trains coming home all the time. Probably didn't mean much to the Koreans, but I kept expecting one of them to come and try to arrest me for something...

Korea, part four - Jeju Island

2009-02-05T18:06:00.002+09:00

December 31st- January 2nd

Jeju Island is often described as "the Isle of the Gods." Perhaps this is easily seen in the middle of summer or autumn - there are beautiful beaches and lofty mountains, but all of these wonders would best be experienced in the height of good weather these seasons bring. We, instead, were there at the very start of a new year, attempting to see the sights despite the cold wind, the rain, and the occasional sleeting. It was ... trying.

On top of this, transportation around the island was difficult. This was probably due to the fact that we had, up until this point, been dealing within small, taxi ride-able cities, or within larger cities that had a subway system. Jeju was instead the size of a large city that functioned only by bus and taxi. Just in case you're curious - bus systems in a language you can't read, much less understand, are rather daunting.

Fortunately for us, the staff at our hotel were wonderful and helpful. When we checked in, the man helping us was delighted to see we were from Japan and spoke Japanese. As he explained to us in beautiful Japanese, "I feel much more comfortable with this than with English." I have to say that there's something wonderful in knowing that you're able to communicate effectively with someone in a language that neither can claim as his mother tongue. For the rest of the trip, this man was our go-to guy whenever we needed help, helping us above and beyond the call of duty with a smile.

We only spent one day really sightseeing. What we saw - the lava tubes and Sunrise Peak- were wonderful, despite the weather and my own personal attitude throughout most of the day. (I hate to say that the cold, the wear of travel, and a set of unfortunate circumstances combined to form an awful, sullen, and despondent version of the Leslie we know and love.) The lava tubes are just what they sound to be - caves through which lava traveled, or "vertical volcanoes" as Wikipedia describes them. The illumination is low, provided mostly through electric lights spread throughout the caverns. The caves are slight variations in black, but just in the same way that oil spilled at the gas station can harbor a rainbow of colors, the solidified lava displayed beautiful, subtle patterns. Plaques along the uneven walk explained various formations along the walls and ceilings, and even those like myself who have little geological interest couldn't help but be fascinated by the caverns.

After the tubes, we made our way to Sunrise Peak. The peak is named or being a beautiful (and popular) spot for seeing the sunrise, though I have read that the view is often cloudy. When we went, a New Year's celebration was preparing at the base of the peak, allowing us to hear the dress rehearsals as we climbed. The peak itself isn't too tall - we climbed it in under an hour, thanks to the stairs the entire way. However, the mixture of the cold, the wet, and the wind made it seem much more daunting. We didn't have long to think on this, however; the view from the top was more breathtaking than all of the stairs we took to get there. I happily snapped shots all over the top, my spirits taking a complete 180 from the morning's sullenness the longer we looked out over the island.

We stopped by a folk museum on the way home, and I feel that I must admit the whole place gave me the creeps. The whole place was filled with mannequins and stuffed animals that, on the scale from "realistic" to "fake," fell somewhere between "zombie" and "Chuckie doll."

There are two more notable stories from Jeju:

1. The Karaoke Adventure
Our first full day in Jeju was New Year's Eve, so we thought we would bring the new year in with style. Brendon had noticed a sign in Japanese for a karaoke place, so we figured we would have good luck there.

I should have known something was wrong as soon as we walked in the store. In the entry area were several men, stylishly dressed, and one middle-aged woman, dressed stylishly but not as flashy as the men. We established that they spoke Japanese and then asked how much the rooms cost per hour. The main man looked at us in confusion. "We don't charge that way." Huh? All Japanese places charge by the hour or the half hour. "You get a room and an all-you-can-drink bar all together."
"Oh. But some of us don't drink alcohol. Do you have sodas or juice?"
" *confused looks from the men* "...Don't you like whiskey?"
"No, he's allergic." (This was technically a lie, but easier to explain than the truth of not liking the taste.)
"Ohh. *some conferring with the woman in Korean* If you were to go by time, 30 minutes would be around 3,000 yen (roughly $30) per person."
Note: I've spent less than that on 2.5 hours of singing and a soda-fountain bar for two people. The four of us looked at each other in alarm, trying to figure out what the deal with this place was.
"So, let's get you started!" The first man tried to usher us back into a room.
"Uh, well, we have to go get dinner first, so we'll come back."
"OK, when will you be coming?"
"I'm not sure when we'll be done with dinner, so we'll just come back when we're ready." We bolted out the door before they could say anything more and decided to retreat to the safety of our hotel rooms, playing random card games until midnight.

In retrospect, considering the stylish dress of the men and the one woman who seemed to be in charge, I think we had stumbled into a host club by accident. Yikes.

2. A Plague on Your Vacation!
The new year did not start well for us. Brendon got food poisoning from the shell fish in his dinner the night before, which kept him bedridden for the day. We had seen most of the things we had wanted to see the day before, so the rest of us did our own things for the day, occasionally checking in to see if Brendon needed anything. We went to a Nepalese restaurant for a delicious dinner, but by the time we had returned to our rooms it was apparent that Glenn and Jenn had both caught colds of some sort. Our last night in Jeju was a rather morose one.

We left by plane for Busan the next morning and spent most of the day as we had in Jeju - recuperating and doing our own things. It seemed a little bit of disappointing end to our sightseeing-driven trip, but I think it was probably for the best as far as everyone was concerned. By the time we were in the airport on the morning of the 3rd, we were all rested, in manageable levels of health, and ready to be back in Japan.

空風

2009-01-31T21:21:00.005+09:00

I love rainstorms and thunderstorms.

When I was young, I used to watch storms out my window at night. I loved sitting in bed, warm and curled up under my blankets, listening to the rain fall and the occasional rumble of thunder. I loved the way the lightning would, for just a moment, illuminate the wild dance of the trees in the storm. Somehow, while others would be scared, I was relaxed and enjoying the show.

Gunma doesn't have rainstorms the way Georgia does. There is a storm every so often, more so in summer than the other seasons, but they don't have the frequency or the duration of my Southern storms. Instead, Gunma lays claim to wind. It was one of the first things I heard when I arrived - 空風（からかぜ or "kara kaze"- made up from characters meaning sky/air/emptiness and wind), half of the famous description of Gunma prefecture: "Strong wind, strong women." While I don't know so much about the latter half - it tends to be a complaint of cuckolds - I will say that I've become a little too acquainted with the former. For example, I tend to not ride my bike during the winter months because walking seems easier and faster than battling with the wind. On the whole, I'm not a fan.

Tonight, however, I realized that I'm comforted by the sound of an intense wind blowing by my apartment building. Maybe it's the white noise quality of it, or just the feeling that, though Hell may be breaking loose outside, I am safe and cozy. Maybe it's an innate knowledge that battling with nature rarely lends itself to a happy end, and so instead I take comfort in accepting what comes.

But, for what it's worth, there are worse things than sitting at a kotatsu with green tea while kara kaze howls outside.

Things About Japan: Juku and School

2009-01-29T18:46:00.000+09:00

In Japan, students go to juku, or cram school, after they get out of (compulsory) school. While this is technically optional, it seems that everyone, from the brightest to the dumbest, goes to juku. Juku is supposed to help students pass their entrance exams for getting into high school. Whether this is by challenging them outside of the classroom, which is below their level, or by helping them stay afloat in class, depends on the level of the student.

What this means is there is another few hours of schooling a day for these kids, as well as the homework assigned by the juku. Thus, the average student goes to school around 8:20, has classes until around 3:50, participates in club activities (usually sports) until around 5, goes home to eat dinner and then goes to juku. I have honestly come back from hanging out with friends on a Friday night around 10:30 and, upon exiting the train station, have seen my students leaving the juku. After juku, the students go home and work on homework until around midnight. (This is the general average my students have told me for their bedtimes.) They then go to sleep and then repeat the process.

When I reveal to students or teachers that America has no juku, I am often met with a complete lack of understanding. How could we not have juku? What would you do with all that extra time? When asked this, I often have to bite back the response that comes to mind: "Have a childhood."

Another interesting thing to note about Japanese schools is that a student cannot fail out of a grade or out of the school. In fact, a student can skip school every day for years and still graduate with the rest of his or her class. Thus, even if a student doesn't understand a concept and shouldn't continue to the next level of the subject in question, he or she will be moved forward. These students eventually turn into either the silent, who won't ever interact with the teacher and attempts to hide as best as possible in class, or into the delinquents who try their best to disrupt class because they are bored and can't follow along with the material at hand. Even worse, students cannot really be disciplined in any way; there is no detention, no expulsion from class or from school, and all a teacher has is the power of authority to hold his or her class in order. Should the teacher lack this authority (or the respect necessary to wield it), a class can often degrade into a crippled mess.

It's no wonder that there are an increasing number of students who are flaking out in their classes and giving up on a variety of subjects, if not high school all together. (Compulsory education ends with 9th grade, the last grade of middle school here.) While I don't want to say that the American system is perfect by any means, I can't help but feel that there are some serious flaws in the Japanese system.

Korea, part three - Gyeong-ju

2009-01-26T12:48:00.000+09:00

December 28th - 30th

Gyeong-ju is the home of many older, historic sites, having once been the capital of the Silla kingdom. As such, the city has some truly beautiful places - the largest wooden temple in Korea, for example, was within walking distance of our hotel. There were also more than just a few burial mounds of kings and royalty of the distant past that dotted the landscape in various places. By far, my favorite location was Seokguram, home to a stone grotto containing a beautiful Buddha.

[This image taken from Wikipedia]

That being said, our trip to Gyeong-ju was surrounded with complications. We had to abandon our day-trip plans to a different city, one of Brendon's to-see locations, because the location was nigh impossible to travel to on a one-day schedule, despite its proximity. Our first night in Gyeong-ju, we voyaged out at 7 pm into a nearby restaurant-and-store area, and found the place that had been bustling in the afternoon to be a dark ghost-town after the setting of the sun. Our lack of knowledge about the layout of the city and the routes the bus system used had us backtracking often and, at times, with greater expense than we would have liked. I, at least, was beginning to reach the dreaded point where the phrase "yet another temple?" inevitably would come to mind when reaching a new "must see" site. On top of all of this was the wear of lengthy travel and required companionship; we were at the midpoint of our travels and we were beginning to tire.

We lucked out in other ways, however, most notably in our hotel. When we arrived at our hotel in Seoul, the Bali Tourist Hotel, several things began to worry us. The staff spoke little to no English, a surprising development at a hotel claiming to be a tourist local. The trappings in the room revealed, by their embroidering and labeling, that the hotel had changed management and names three times in the recent past. The bathrooms were encircled with glass rather than opaque walls, and only a small strip of this glass was frosted. In Glenn and Brendon's room, there wasn't even a door for the already-too-visible bathroom. Worst of all, we were told upon returning to the hotel after dinner on our first night that our rooms were being changed, though no reason was given for this change. One night later, a police officer in riot gear woke Brendon and Glenn with his pounding at the door, only to see foreigners in residence and leave. (I can't help but feel that the room change and the police visit were related.) The hotel was better than nothing, but I would not ever plan to stay there again.
This is all to say that, thankfully, our hotel in Gyeong-ju was the complete opposite of the Bali Tourist Hotel in practically every regard.

While we did see some interesting things while traveling in Gyeong-ju, the best part of my visit there was actually outside of the city. We took a bus from Gyeong-ju to Busan, as we were flying to our next stop. On the bus were two adorable little girls, who looked to be 6-year-old twins but were actually, we later found out, 2 years apart in age. Jennifer and Glenn were playing Mario Kart on their Nintendo DSes. (The DS is a portable gaming device that has wireless capability, allowing up to 4 people to play against each other providing they all have DSes and one has the actual game. Mario Kart is a racing game featuring characters from the Mario games of the 80s and 90s.)

These two girls watched the match between Jennifer and Glenn avidly from their seats in front of the gaming pair. At one point, one of the girls pointed to the free seat next to Jennifer and asked in beautiful English, "Can I sit here and watch?" Within 10 minutes, the pair of the girls were playing Mario Kart against each other, each being coached by Glenn and Jennifer. As they played, the astounding level of their English was revealed. For example, the younger called out to her sister at one point in the midst of a game, saying, "I'm catching uuuup!" Later, this same child asked us where we were going to go and, when she found out our flight destinations were the same, she asked us what time our flight was. We were heading to the airport really early - we would arrive at 3 when our flight was at 7. When she heard the time of our flight, she said, "What will you DO for four hours?" with the perfect inflection of a 6 year old who cannot possibly understand those older than her.

We arrived at the airport and said our goodbyes to the girls, still rather overcome by these children's level of English. We checked in to our flights and settled down in the airport lobby, seeing no need to go through security quite yet. As we were sitting, the girls and their mother came around and settled down with us. The mother disappeared for a couple of minutes, leaving me to believe that we were truly being regaled into babysitters, when she suddenly returned with a tray pilled with donuts for us all to eat. (This brought about a wonderful moment where the younger and the older were comparing, in English, who had eaten more donuts. Upon hearing the totals and her sister's higher number, the younger responded with, "Piggy piggy.") A few hours of playing later, the girls and their mother left for their flight, leaving us exhausted but happy. Not much later, we ourselves were off to our final destination in Korea: Jeju Island.

This is a woeful account of the things we saw while we were visiting Gyeong-ju - I would recommend my facebook photo albums to any who wish to see more of the city. Still, Gyeong-ju leaves me with the impression of being a tourist city, and it knows the fact entirely too well. It left me somewhat unsatisfied.

Things about Japan: Face masks

2009-01-24T18:06:00.000+09:00

This is probably less a thing about Japan and more a thing about Asia. In any case, it's especially noticeable in the winter and early spring when everyone is either battling with or trying to prevent catching a cold or, in the case of spring, to prevent the aggravation of allergies.

In general, face masks are worn first and foremost to prevent passing a current cold on to others. While it isn't required, it is considered polite to wear one. Most Japanese, when told that this habit is almost purely an Asian one, find this to be a most interesting bit of news. To them, I suppose, someone who doesn't wear a face mask when sick is akin to someone who doesn't cover their mouth when they cough or sneeze. Fortunately for me, teachers are exempt from this while teaching, as speaking in muffled tones often prevents one from being able to teach effectively. This is especially true of language teachers, so I'm given somewhat of a break in his regard.

Masks come in different shapes and sizes. Some are rectangular layers of gauzy material that sit over the mouth and the nose; others are thick paper that is cut to form around the top of the nose and down to the chin. In Taiwan, I noticed that many people wore fabric face masks, an environmentally friendly type, though I have yet to see this in Japan.

I've tried wearing a face mask and managed it for about five minutes. I would generally equate the sensation with a slow and stifling suffocation. Being sick means one already can't breathe well; add a mask to this and one is forced to draw in air through a layer of fabric or paper that holds in the dampness and heat of one's breath. The longer it's worn, the worse this sensation becomes. I can't imagine wearing it for longer than a few minutes, though I suppose one can become used to it after repeated use.

I have to applaud the Japanese (and Asians in general) for their adherence to this system. I do admire the way in which it puts others before one's own comfort. That being said, I don't think I'll be able to follow such polite suffering any time soon.

Korea, part two - The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ)

2009-01-23T18:00:00.001+09:00

December 27th

For this entry, I've decided to type up what I wrote in my journal after the trip. Please excuse any poor writing involved; I have a rule with my journal that I will not correct or change anything after I've finished writing the entry, nor will I worry overly about the flow or the readability.

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Today was (is?) most certainly an おつかれさま [ed. note: this means "you must be tired" and is a common saying for telling someone they've worked hard] sort of day. We were up at (before!) the crack of dawn, getting on the tour bus at 6:30. By 8, the bus was on the road and heading to the DMZ, carrying some 20 tourists, our guide, and the driver.

We first stopped at Freedom Bridge, having suffered a bumpy ride and several propaganda-filled messages from our tour guide and a video. The bridge (rather, the original) burned down some time ago, but it was originally used to exchange prisoners of war when the border was first made. We then went to the Third Invasion Tunnel, being the third of four (found) tunnels dug by North Korea and aiming toward Seoul. We then watched another, propaganda-filled movie about the DMZ before going to the Observation deck, where one can look out on to North Korea. We culminated our trip with a visit to Dorasan station, the last point to which a traveler from South Korea can go by train [ed note: before getting into North Korea, not that you can do that anyway].

I have to say that the propaganda appalled me. The others seemed to expect it, but I was caught unawares by the double-talk. "We want to be reunited with our Northern brothers," quickly followed by "we are very frightened by the enemy, North Korea." I suppose I was naive to expect more from the Joint Security Area [ed. note: as in, both North and South Korea working on the area together], but still. I was expecting more grit and seriousness, like Checkpoint Charlie or Potsdam. Instead, I got happy-looking, cartoonish characters representing North and South soldiers.

Also, the Japanese tourists were frustrating. They kept making comments about there being "so many gaijin [ed. note: word for "foreigners" with the connotation of a redneck saying "furriner"]" ... um, hello? YOU'RE GAIJIN. I wanted to say that, but never got the chance. (Talk about witty come-backs you'll never use.)

There were serious parts of the trip, of course. The way was covered with barbed wire. The tunnels (the 3rd was some 1.7 km in length, if memory serves, though most of that is in North Korea) were made to get by the MILLION landmines spread in the dead zone. Several large, concrete structures over the road were pointed out to us - not billboards, they said, but blocks filled with dynamite so as to protect against North Korea should they invade. At the Observation Deck, one could look out over North Korea and see towns. I kept my eyes peeled, through the use of binoculars at the facility, for any signs of life or movement, but none could be found. There was a North Korean and a South Korean flag flying, but we were told there was a "flag race" to put each one on a taller tower than the opposing side. The North, we were told, won. In short, the reality was there, even if the tour was meant to cover it up.

The tunnels' story is both frightening and funny. An informant, a defector from North Korea, informed the South Korean inhabitants of plans for 5 invasion tunnels, each like the fingers on a hand, coming in toward the palm, Seoul. They've only found 4, and the 4th was found in 1990.
HORRIFYING.
But, when the 3rd tunnel was found, the captured North Korean soldiers said that they were mining for coal (despite the fact that no coal is to be found in that area). They sprayed the walls with a kind of coal paint, hoping to prove the point.
...Seriously, North Korea?

The train station was kind of awful. There were 2 South Korean guards there, and everyone was taking their pictures with them [ed. note: and treating them like objects rather than human beings]. I honestly felt sorry for them, though I suppose there are worse duties to have in an army setting.

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In short, I was disappointed and depressed by the tour, and it gave me a lot to think about. It really was a scary situation, and the cartoons and propoganda just barely distracted away from the number of things both sides were doing in regards to the constant and continuous battle. I look forward to a day when the border will fall, and even more to a day when this can happen without strife and suffering but instead with celebration and reunion.

Korea, part one - Arrival in Korea and Seoul

2009-01-22T17:22:00.007+09:00

The Four-Part Series on Leslie's Winter Vacation

When I told my teachers I was going to Korea during the winter break, the reactions I garnered were of three types:
1. "Kimchi!"
2. "But won't it be cold?"
3. "Oh, how nice! I want to travel more ... "

To be honest, I wasn't much better myself. I knew we were going further north than my own location in Japan, so it would be cold, and that Korea is known for kimchi, Hyundai, and the pop-star Rain. As for expectations from the nation, I had few. My fears were more wrapped up in my ability to interact with my travel companions. I had met two of my three companions only once, and the third was someone whose acquaintance, as Mr. Darcy would say, I could not claim.
I'd clearly be learning a lot from this trip.

My flight to Busan on the 23rd of December was good; as a matter of fact, it was great. I somehow managed to land in business class while having paid an economy-class price. The four of us (Brendon, the trip-planner, Jennifer, Glenn, and myself) met at our hostel that evening and then voyaged out into Busan in search of dinner. Busan is the second largest city in Korea, a fact that I only learned on our return to the city on the eve of our departure. My impressions of the location made me inclined to think that the port town was unused to seeing foreigners, and even less used to dealing with them. Still, I had little time to experience the city, as we were out early the next morning and on our way to Seoul.

Seoul certainly let one know of its size and population density from the start. While having the metropolitan feel of other large cities (Tokyo and New York come to mind), it also maintains the negatives of those cities - throngs of people hurrying to their locations and very unappreciative of those who slowed them down in any way. Still, we gathered our strength and repeated the process from the previous evening: checked in to our accommodations, shifted the contents of our luggage, and then sought out a place to eat. As it was Christmas Eve, we bought a Christmas Cake to share in the hotel. All in all, we were excited and ready to begin sightseeing the next day. We were fortunate enough to have a tour guide in Korea - Chantelle, a friend of Jennifer's from college, who lives in Seoul and teaches at a cram school there. We would be meeting with her early the next day and then traveling from there.

The Confucian tombs of the royal family at Jongmyo Shrine, the bustling shopping areas, and the 63rd building - Korea was not to be taken lightly on Christmas day. I grumbled to myself that attempting to make our way around the busiest city on the biggest dating holiday on the Asian calendar was probably not the wisest thing we had planned to do, but one could hardly expect less from a bitter singleton. We walked, we talked, we learned - it really was a good day.

The next day, the 26th, we let Chantelle rest (by which I mean, we let her go to work as usual) while the four of us traveled to Suwon, a nearby city that had the claim to fame of being the sister city of Brendon's town in Hokkaido. We weren't expecting much - Brendon's town is small, and we were mostly going to satisfy his coworkers, who would be sure to ask if he had made a trip to the city. Reality proved to be very different from anticipation as we stepped out of an immense train station and out into a busy town. Blissfully fazed by this, we hailed a taxi and made our way to the beautiful Suwon Fortress, a location that taught me two important lessons:
1. Losing ones companions among a large complex is disconcerting but unavoidable, and
2. If the wax statues and English descriptions are to be believed, Suwon fortress was home to a formidable number of eunuchs.

The 27th saw us to the Demilitarized Zone, the border between North and South Korea, a trip which is deserving of an entry all on its own. The 28th, our last day in Seoul, we made our way to one of the royal palaces of old, Changdeok-gung. There we enjoyed a tour by a guide whose humor and English were both brilliant. The palace was one of my favorite places for pictures during our time in Seoul. The grounds were gorgeous, housing both locations that were recently repainted and those that had been left in their original state, and the time of day was perfect for interesting shadows and sunset photos.

I was tired and called it an early night, leaving the others to karaoke while I made my way back to the hotel, picked up a pizza to go, and relaxed with a book and a beer. In the morning, I was fully recharged and ready to be off to our next location, Gyeong-ju.

Things About Japan

2009-01-07T08:53:00.003+09:00

I'm fortunate enough to be friends with a very international crowd during a time when the world is made small by the internet. I get to learn about places far and wide, like Saudi Arabia and Kazakhstan, all while I'm experiencing my own, unique life here in Japan.

One friend of mine from college, Jocelyn, is Taiwanese by birth but spent most of her life in the US. She's now living with her family in Taiwan and has been experiencing a sort of double-vision, being both very much a part of the culture and life there and yet very separated from it due to her time in America. The benefit of this, especially for readers of her blog, is a series of entries called "Things About Taiwan," where she explains a variety of things about Taiwan that outsiders to the nation might find interesting.

There are many things about Japan that I want to memorialize in this blog, and yet I often find that I can't tie it in to a larger theme. "Why write a paragraph-long entry, especially when I should write about last weekend..." I also fear that my view is too much the outsider, that I will be making assumptions about a culture that are based in a lack of understanding rather than a full perspective. Still, the will to write these quirks has not faded over my almost year and a half tenure here, so bear with me as I note my "Things about Japan."

You've suffered through a long appetizer, so here is your main course.

Things About Japan - Green Tea
Every day in the office starts off with a cup of green tea. It will always be green tea, and it will always be pipping hot, despite the weather conditions. After this first cup, one can drink whatever one likes, but the first cup must be hot, green tea. In fact, electric water-heaters called "mahoubin" ("magic bottles") are a staple in office settings for the purpose of serving tea. In many places, a specific person is put in charge of the tea preparation; this person is generally a secretary of sorts for the office and, along with his or her other duties, makes sure the mugs are ready in the morning, there is water in the water-heaters, and the tea supply is full. This person does not necessarily serve the tea, however; within the group divisions in the office, the least-senior person is delegated this task. Generally speaking, this is the newest, lowest-ranking woman within the group, though it's becoming more and more common for men to take on this task.

Also, when guests visit an office, they are served a drink within minutes. This is often green tea, hot, though they may be served something different, it seems, if they visit in the afternoon instead of the morning. This drink is often made by the aforementioned tea secretary, though a low-status office member (in this case, it's bound to be a female) may be called upon to do this job if said secretary is unavailable.

A Contradiction

2009-01-05T19:45:00.006+09:00

AKA: The Silver Lining.

An Introduction is to introduce people, but Christopher Robin and his friends, who have already been introduced to you, are now going to say Good-bye, so this is the opposite. When we asked Pooh what the opposite of an introduction was, he said "The what of a what?" which didn't help us as much as we had hoped, but luckily Owl kept his head and told us that the Opposite of an Introduction, my dear Pooh, was a Contradiction; and, as he is very good at long words, I am sure that that's what it is.

- A House at Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne

The night before my physics midterm, back when I was in high school, I was stressed to the breaking point. Physics, along with most math-based subjects, eludes my talent for aural learning. In a wild attempt to prevent my mental collapse, I pulled A House at Pooh Corner off of my shelf and opened up to the paragraph you see at the top of this entry. That alone was enough to break my tension and, without reading much further, I happily went to sleep.

Unfortunately, my stress-breaker for the Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT) was not so happy and kind. My friend and I, due to some confusion, took a train going in the opposite direction. By the time we had corrected the incident, we were too late to take the first part of the exam. We were told by the proctors that missing the first part of the exam would result in an automatic fail, though we could take the next two parts and get our scores for those sections.

Frustrating? Beyond belief. I was in hysterics.
Disappointing? Hell yes.
An all-together bad thing? I don't think so.

I had devoted so much time and effort to studying for this test as it approached. I told my mother the night before that I couldn't wait for the test to be over so that I could "finally be a real human being again." But why? What was the reason behind it?

When I first arrived in Japan, I decided I wanted to take the JLPT. Not wanting to stress myself out too much, I decided to not take the most basic level, level 4, a few months after I arrived and instead would take the next highest level, level 3, the following year. That was the last time I really considered whether or not I would take the JLPT.

I'm not planning on staying in Japan; even if I were, I would have to pass the 2nd or 1st level exams - the 3rd and 4th levels are fairly meaningless as far as professionals are concerned. It's amazing, then, that a test that had no real value, outside of being a manner in which to test my level of Japanese, left me in hysterics when I was told I missed the first part.

This thought occurred to me as I sat outside of the testing location, waiting for the start of the second section. And, with it, came a wave of relief. Had I taken the whole test, would the general lack of importance of it have occurred to me? Probably not. At least, not for a long time. Nor would I have been relaxed enough to tackle the next two parts as effectively as I feel I did.

While it's still unfortunate that I can't have this accomplishment under my belt, I think I've learned a better lesson about evaluating my situation. Truth be told, it's a lesson I've needed the past month. And that, friends, is the silver lining.

あけましておめでとうございます！

2009-01-05T08:36:00.005+09:00

AKA: Happy New Year!

The New Year is a big deal in Japan. Last year, I mentioned, briefly, the levels of politeness required when you meet someone for the first time in the new year. At that time, I was rather confused as to what to do - I hadn't prepared for saying "Happy New Year" several days after the new year had come. This year, I was ready.

So, steps for entering the workplace on the first day back:

1. Get there early. Fewer people, fewer greetings, and you can just stand up, bow, and mumble every time someone new comes in the office. Ahhh, how the tables have turned!

2. Enter through door closest to highest-ranking office member - principal, president...whomever. Say "Akemashite omedetou gozaimasu. Kotoshimo yoroshiku onegaishimasu" ("Happy New Year. Please be kind to me again this year"), bowing all the while.

3. Repeat for next senior member. And the next. And the next. In fact, repeat for every person you run into.

4. Sit down at your desk some 20 minutes later; faint.

OK, maybe not 20 minutes, but you can see how this would cause for some traffic jams when first coming into the office.

In other news, I'm awful about updating. I'm planning on spending most of my day today catching up on das Internet, so I will hopefully have more things for you soon.

So, to one and all - Happy New Year!

Let Them Speak Slang!

2008-12-15T15:02:00.003+09:00

AKA: It appears that, no matter where I go, I will come off as being "manly."

Recently, I said something to Saito-sensei with a slang pronunciation that, I fear to admit, I picked up from my students. Another teacher looked up at what I said and turned to Saito-sensei, saying, "And Leslie used to speak such nice Japanese."

It seems the unfortunate case that the sort of slang I always hear happens to be that which falls under the "male language" category. It may be that female slang passes by my ears without notice, or that male slang is mostly using a different pronunciation of regular words - I really don't know. In any case, whenever I feel like being a little more natural in my word choice, I come off as manly.

To a certain extent, I hang out with the wrong crowd - I don't have many Japanese friends, and really have none that are my age. It's perhaps not surprising that I have a hard time knowing what slang to use and where. On top of that, I speak Japanese mostly in situations that should be at least slightly formal - at work, while speaking with strangers, and so forth.

Oh well, it can't be helped.

Expect a post later on the JLPT experience - it's mostly written and just needs one more glance-over before I post it.

We interrupt to bring you this important message.

2008-12-01T23:47:00.005+09:00

Well, maybe not important.

The Japanese Language Proficiency Test is coming up this Sunday. While I'm trying to stop saying that I will assuredly fail, my confidence in my ability to pass is fairly low. Still, I'm studying my hardest and doing all I can to, as the Japanese say, 頑張る。* ("Ganbaru" means "to do to the best of one's abilities," but is used for a wide range of meanings, from "good luck" to "...deal with it!")

So, as I'm trying to commit myself to my studies, I'm not going to be taking the time to post until I'm all finished. Once that happens, mind, I have several things to write about (birthday parties for 14 year-old Japanese boys, for starters, and a long delayed account of Sports Day). In the meantime, entertain yourself as I have with this. I highly suggest downloading it. It makes me feel warm just listening to it as it runs in the background. And hey, who doesn't love Fahrenheit 451?

And, while I have you clicking links...
- I get the giggles every time I watch this.
- Silly Elvis Costello! We all know you can't play the piano.

(Clearly, I spend a lot of time on the Colbert Report website.)

Have a good week and I'll see you all again after Sunday!

*Sorry for the split infinitive, Mom!

Here's to You.

2008-11-25T08:58:00.004+09:00

In Japan, any individual's absence from work, when it is not work-related, requires some sort of apology to the group. If one travels, for example, one should (read: must) bring back "omiyage," loosely translated as souvenirs, for those at the work place. In other cases, an announcement of what one was doing and throwing in a short "I'm sorry I've been gone lately" at the morning meeting seems to suffice.

Earlier last week, the school nurse's father died. She disappeared from school in the middle of the day, and the whispered explanation of her absence spread through the staffroom like a plague. Only the students were immune to it, not being privileged enough to hear such personal information. She was gone for several days, only reappearing today.

With puffy eyes and a tired demeanor, Sato-sensei apologized for her absence. She spoke for a few minutes, explaining her father's prolonged illness and the reason for her sudden disappearance in the midst of a school week. During the 2 minutes that she spoke, I thought of how I, as a 6th grader, burst into tears when a fellow student made a generic jest about my grandmother - both of mine, unbeknownst to my classmate, had died within the 3 days prior. I would not have had the strength then to stand up in front of my peers and state, calmly and coolly, that my mother's mother had been in a coma for a week or two due to a sudden stroke, or that my father's mother had been on a slow decline from disease for 5 years, a subject so taboo that I was not even aware of it until her condition had her knocking on Death's door. I don't know that I would have the ability to do so even now. I greatly admire Sato-sensei's strength.

So, here's to you, Sato-sensei.
Here's to you, her father, who has now been released from a 3-year struggle.
And here's to you, Anne and Mary, who passed away 13 years ago this week.

Ol' Man Winter

2008-11-21T11:59:00.004+09:00

The first cold snap surprised everyone in Nitta. Teachers and students like rushed through the cold halls, repeating the mantra of the day: "It's cold! It's cold!" I, too, took to saying it, or agreeing vehemently with it when I heard it from others. Saito-sensei, one of my neighbors in the staffroom, found my dislike of the cold amusing. "Winter is coming," he responded in Japanese every time the word "cold" escaped my lips. I, too, had a stock response: "Don't say nasty things" in Japanese, paired with an icy glare.

For a while, the warm weather returned, and we could at least pretend that fall was going to last a while longer. Saito-sensei took to informing me of the season every day when I arrived, saying things like, "Today's winter, but tomorrow will be autumn." Friday, however, he informed me that we would be seeing nothing but winter from now on, laughing at my response of a groan.

It's not that I hate the cold; I hate the constant, inescapable nature of the cold here. Due to the lack of insulation in Japanese buildings and the expense of running the heaters, one never really feels warm. Those moments when one does get warm are soon followed by extreme cold - taking a bath is wonderful until one has to leave the bath water and stand, dripping wet, in the cold air of the apartment. It almost makes the moments of warmth not worth the shock of cold afterward.

At school, the individual classrooms are heated with kerosene - I find myself having a constant headache throughout the day from the fumes. Worse are the unheated hallways, though, whose cold is so intense that teachers often wear an extra jacket when leaving the staffroom.

Gunma also lays claim to a strong, fierce wind that makes traveling difficult for those of us without cars. I'm not the only one who has noticed that, often, it is quicker to walk than it is to attempt biking; walking is, at the very least, easier.

Of course, winter has its highlights. The onsen, or hot springs, are heated such that being half exposed to the cold is the perfect balance for those who are soaking. Winter fruits are delicious and sweet - manderine oranges, strawberries, and persimmons. The kotatsu, one of my favorite ways of staying warm, plays a prominent winter role. I've been told that the stereotypical image of winter is of huddling at the kotatsu, drinking green tea and eating mandarine oranges while a cat lies curled up at one's feet, a scene I can (and do) recreate on a regular basis.

Having survived one winter here, I feel better prepared to face the cold. In the end, though, I have to admit that this preparedness is also somewhat of a disservice; unlike last year, the hope of it not being able to get worse is instead replaced with the solid knowledge of just how bad it can (and will) get. In short, send me your warmest thoughts the next few months!

Getting Dressed (and What It Does)

2008-11-10T15:55:00.006+09:00

AKA: Leslie Can Walk and Think at the Same Time!

I like to walk to the places near my house - to school, to the grocery store, to the nearby mall. It takes longer, but there's something relaxing in the slowness of it. The benefits are numerous, but now isn't the time or place to go into my exercise-and-general-wellness plan, so I won't. I will say instead that spending an hour or so walking every day gives me a lot of time to think.

As of late, I've been thinking about clothes. It's recently become cold, so I've retired my summer wardrobe and have been rearranging my closet to best fit my winter wear and trying to figure out what is missing before it gets much colder. In doing so, I realized just how much I've changed since I arrived here over a year ago.

Fashion was my enemy. Anyone who has seen "Mean Girls" may understand my dislike for fashionistas. (Imagine the Plastics being, not a group of 3 girls, but 90% of the school population.) I ran from the idea of being fashionable, which to me amounted to spending insane amounts of money on clothing only to find it out of style in a month. After going to a school for 6 years which required a uniform, I found myself at college with little more than t-shirts and jeans to wear. By the time I left WashU, I had shed my dislike for skirts and anything even slightly feminine, and even had a few cute outfits I wore entirely too often.

As soon as I arrived in Japan, however, I realized that I was playing a whole new game and on a completely different field. In the year I've been here, I've become immune to femininity, and my idea of what colors match has drastically changed. I've experimented with clothing in a way with which I never felt comfortable before, as I stand out no matter what I wear. It's been an interesting learning experience.

The result is that I no longer think of clothing like a checklist of things I need in which to be appropriately attired, as though there were a sign on my door similar to those at gas stations, saying, "No shirt, no shoes, no pants, no leaving!" Instead, clothing is like music, or a composition, or spices for cooking - getting dressed involves combining various parts into a cohesive, attractive whole. I no longer find myself thinking, "How long do I need to wait before I wear this outfit again?" ("How long until I have lemon-pepper chicken again?"*) I don't have set outfits anymore; I have, instead, the pieces to a self-expression puzzle.

My mom once told me the story of her meeting my godmother, Del Rae. A group of doctors and their significant others were on a skiing trip in Colorado, and my mom felt out of place among the women who had spent large sums of money on lavish, Southwestern wardrobes. Del Rae, a true Southwestern woman, offered to help my mom with her outfits. "All she did," my mom said, "was take what I had and rearrange it, adding a Southwestern embellishment here and there, but that in and of itself was enough. I was the best dressed there."

The moral of the story - "it's not what you have, but how you use it" - is something I've understood in many aspects of my life. It's just taken me this long to realize what it means for clothing, as well as what it doesn't mean. Being fashionable doesn't mean being rich and vapid; it means expressing oneself in a way everyone can see and comprehend. I must say that I rather like the change in connotation.

*I feel obligated to note that my roommate, hannah, would say that it is never too soon to have lemon-pepper chicken. (And, for anyone who wonders why I still refer to hannah as "my roommate" though we live in different countries, I offer you this bastardized Holmes quote: "To Leslie, she is always 'the roommate.' I have seldom heard her mention her under any other name.")

The Election as Seen from Japan

2008-11-05T16:01:00.008+09:00

AKA: A few thoughts on a historic day.

I sat down for lunch in the staffroom and refreshed the BBC news page on the election - a map showing the results, both popular and electoral, of the voting as the news came in. As I ate, I stared at the map. So, I was watching as the results from California, Oregon, and Washington state pushed Obama over the 270 mark and fully into the Winner's Circle.

Being a Democrat and a supporter of Obama, I eagerly looked around for someone with whom I could share my joy. I squealed and bounced on the balls of my feet. I felt like screaming, running laps around the school and yelling "Obama won!" at the top of my lungs. When the art teacher came in to the staffroom, she took one look at me and said, "Did something happen?"
"Obama!!" I said. She gave me a strange look.
"He won! Obama won!" I was near squealing at this point.
"Oooh, so Obama won..." she said, almost more to herself than to me, continuing to walk to her desk.

Another teacher walked in - one of my English teachers. "Obama won, Obama won!!" I said, actually jumping up and down at this point. My excitement was beginning to draw attention. Murmurs of "what happened?" circulated the room. "Obama won," someone said in Japanese. "Oooh," the murmurers responded as they went back to their lunches, to work, to whatever was waiting them on their desks.

Don't you see, I wanted to say, that this is a historic day? That, no matter who you follow or want to be elected, it's amazing to be alive on the day when a minority figure not only wins the White House, but wins it by a landslide?

The Japanese don't have a say in the election of the Prime Minister. While the news programs note such events, the general populace cares little. On top of this, the Prime Minister rarely makes it through a full term - he does something that angers either his party or some other group of politicians and steps down as an apology. (I sometimes wonder if our system could maybe use a little of this apologizing.) In short, they don't understand how an election of one person over another can truly change a country like the United States, nor do they understand the personal involvement many Americans have with our elections, and especially this one.

I channeled my energy into teaching my last class of the day, which helped, but I find myself excited to end my day in this uncaring atmosphere and rejoice fully at home. Here, I see the shades of what America could be - politics being the barest of acknowledgment of a thing well beyond an individual's power or say. We're already fairly far down that road. Let's not only take these next four years to change our nation, but to change ourselves as well. I, for one, am scared by the blank face of apathy.

Edit: midnight, 6th November

The news has been constantly reporting on Obama's win, to the point that some of my acquaintances are "getting tired of seeing his face." (They say it with a smile, so I allow them the comment.) All of Japan may know about the election results, but I think only those in the city of Obama, Japan are celebrating quite as much as most Americans are. A friend proposed visiting Obama on Inauguration day, and, while her comment may have been tongue-in-cheek, I'm already looking into making reservations.

Ye Aforementioned Video

2008-10-31T22:41:00.006+09:00

Sorry to overload on posts yesterday, for those of you who get the digest version. I wouldn't have read all those entries had they arrived in my inbox, so thanks to those of you who did. :D

It took a couple of hours to upload the video, but here it is for your viewing pleasure: http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=m3IGKQaDDQk
This is the performance I mentioned in my Chorus Competition post. I'm actually pretty impressed with the video's sound quality, considering I took it with my Canon SD600 (aka - not a video camera). So...enjoy!

How Japan is Green

2008-10-30T15:58:00.004+09:00

And How We Can All Be Green, Too

I've recently fallen in love with a website: http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/ (more specifically, with its sub-site, http://www.re-nest.com/). Aside from having lots of tips for living in small spaces that you may or may not own, it has an entire section (aka: re-nest.com) devoted to do-it-yourself projects and to being as green as possible without crossing the line into insanity. It also features a lot of green/diy options that don't look as if they were done by 3rd graders in science class - it can be quite the accomplishment.

Living in Japan has opened my eyes to a lot of realistic green options I've been taking for granted. It's rare, for example, for a house to have a full-sized oven, a dryer, or a dishwasher. Having "made due" with a toaster oven, line drying, and hand-washing for a year now has made me realize just how well I can function without the larger, energy-wasting versions.

Recycling is huge here. This is largely due to training in schools and heavy fines for those who throw away things inappropriately. While no one I have spoken to fully knows the system for separating out burnable and non-burnable trash (the requirements are very strict), everyone knows to recycle cans, plastic bottles, and glass. On top of this, many drinks come in paper cartons - these, too, are recycled. Recycling can be picked up or can be taken to the grocery stores for those of us who, like myself, don't produce enough to make taking the recycling out for pick up worthwhile. Indeed, it is generally easier to find a place to recycle a can or bottle than it is to find a trash can.

There are rarely paper towels in bathrooms - while some have air-dryers, many do not. Instead, most people carry a handkerchief or a handkerchief-sized towel for drying their hands. This is a general-use towel, too; students use them as drop cloths for their school lunches, for example.

I work in a middle and elementary school, and I'm impressed with the efforts made in these two places as well. Paper that has been printed on one side (but is still good for further use) is collected and reused for inner-office memos and other prints that often build up in an office setting. After that use, they're recycled. Machines in the copy room are unplugged at the end of the day; many are left turned off when not being used. Teachers leave a coffee mug at the school for use with drinks, and most teachers take a policy of washing their mug at the end of the day and rinsing quickly between uses rather than between washing fully after each use. Lunch comes with a carton of milk every day, and these are rinsed in a single bucket of water in each classroom rather than with gallons of water from the tap. Even the design of the school is such that it will save power - the classrooms are built with south-facing windows so as to get as much light (and heat, for winter) as possible during the day - the lights are turned off regularly when a class isn't in session, and even during breaks.

Saving energy at home is an impressive feat as well. Water heaters are connected to a panel in the kitchen which can easily adjust the temperature of the water, as well as turn the heater off when hot water isn't needed. Few houses come with central air; in fact, many function with one or two A/C units in the entire house, and these are run at selective times, if not on a timer. In winter, space heaters and kerosene heaters come into play, also being used at selective times. I'll only mention the kotatsu by name, and encourage anyone who's reading to look it up on Google - it's an amazing invention for winter and quite a power conserver.

Of course, it's rare that one thinks of Japan without thinking of the public transportation options. Due to expense, I decided against getting a car while here, and have been traveling on bike and by train instead - I've found it to not be as limiting as I had originally feared. While it's a pain during excessively cold, excessively hot, or rainy weather, it's nevertheless amazing to me that the idea of biking to the nearest mall (45 minutes one way) doesn't overly phase me anymore.

Not to say the Japanese are perfect by any means - for example, they are obsessed with packaging in a way that is frightening, women flush the toilet multiple times rather than allowing others to hear them pee, and good insulation seems to be a fancy dream. Still, they accept so many green practices as daily life that I can't help but hope that America will soon follow suit after their examples. For my part, I hope to maintain my green training when I return to the States next year. After a year of "making due" with options that at times are less convenient but are always exponentially friendlier to the earth, I've clearly come to see just how do-able these options are.

Chorus Contest v2.0

2008-10-30T15:06:00.002+09:00

AKA: Practice Makes Perfect

It's that time of the year again - the Chorus Contest! You may or may not remember it from last year, so here's the short version: each of the homerooms compete against the other homerooms in their grade in a singing contest. They sing two songs - one that the entire grade sings, one that each homeroom picks for itself. Each homeroom picks a student to conduct and a student to play the piano accompaniment; the competition completely relies on the students. The teachers judge each performance and the winners are announced at the end of the competition.

So ... this glorious event happened yesterday.

This year, as far as the official part of the contest is concerned, wasn't very different from last year. The conductors were a little more reserved in their conducting, which was sad - I rather enjoyed the flamboyant Maestros from last year. The performances were also a little disappointing as far as ability was concerned - many of the pieces seemed unbalanced, in that the boys were not informed that their voices would carry much more easily than the girls', making the bass-lines much too prominent.
Or maybe I'm just more critical this year than I was last year; who knows!

Outside of the official competition, however, there was much more unofficial activity. There was a handbell performance, a jazz band performance, a percussion band performance, an a cappella performance, a gymnastics routine, a rock band performance which featured the Vice Principal on rhythm guitar, a skit, a piano duet featuring a third year student (9th grader) and a teacher wearing a student uniform, a PTA chorus rendition of Angela Aki's "Letter," a dance done by the extracurricular music class, and a brass band performance of two popular songs which involved teachers dancing. Pretty chock full of stuff!

I was involved in the a cappella performance (3 people, including myself, singing "Amazing Grace" - I had the melody, which was fun) and the teacher's dance for the brass band (I was dancing to the Ponyo theme song). It was nice to be selected for things and to be included in this way.

However...

We never had a dress rehearsal. The a cappella group never practiced the whole song together. The Ponyo dance didn't ever practice, and only one person dancing knew what the order for the dance was. Other performances, too, reflected a general lack of practice; only the PTA seemed to be on top of their game.

The kids had fun, which was the important part; that being said, the whole thing, as a performance, was very sloppy. Were it just a performance for the students, I wouldn't mind, but here were many relatives and other visitors who had come to watch. I hated that what they saw reflected so poorly, in general, on our school. Still, lack of preparation (and my severe anal-retentive streak) aside, it was a fun occasion.

Of all of the songs, I took only one video, and it happened to be my favorite performance and what won first place for the 3rd year homeroom that performed it. I think I will try putting it up on YouTube so y'all can get a feel for what the students do; more on this in the near future. :)

Gunma Prefecture Day

2008-10-30T14:58:00.004+09:00

Last Tuesday was "Gunma Prefecture Day" - all I really ever heard about this was that the students, as well as those with certain jobs, had the day off. Teachers, unfortunately, were not considered to be among "those with certain jobs," but most of the ones in my office took the day off. I decided to do the same, and celebrated Gunma in the way I feel most of her citizens do - by going somewhere else.

I finally made the trip to Odaiba that I've been wanting to make for ages. Odaiba is the bay district of Tokyo, as well as home to the Fuji TV building, the Museum for Maritime Sciences, the Museum for Future Innovations, a very large ferris wheel, and my personal favorite - a replica of the Statue of Liberty.

From right to left - the Statue of Liberty, the Rainbow Tower, and Tokyo Tower.

It was a gorgeous day, so I ended up not going anywhere in particular while in Odaiba and instead just taking pictures from outside. The whole area is gorgeous and is one of the few places in Tokyo where I could actually see myself living and not being miserable. The train ride was scenic, the water was beautiful (though not clean, as far as I've heard), and the sights were wonderful to see. It's not surprising that it is known as one of the more romantic places in Tokyo - the scenery is bound to put anyone in a good mood.

After spending some time wandering around Odaiba, I made my way to Harajuku. For those of you playing the home game, Harajuku is famous for two things - clothing stores and the most bizarre displays of fashion ever. This is where the gothic Lolitas come to roost. I went there for the former rather than the latter; I found a listing for a used clothing store with affordable prices and decided to check it out. I miss my thrift stores, I must say - the opportunity to make ones own clothing modifications is just too few and far between around here when you can't find cheap clothing. (Oh Lord, I'm turning into my brother.)
Long story short - I found the place and was rather pleased with what I found. It was a pretty large store, well-organized, and was understandable at a glance. I found several interesting things, but my best find was either a pair of tweed-esque pants that fit me as though they were made for me or a thigh-length coat with a removable, fuzzy lining that is fairly warm and flattering. All together, I bought a pair of pants, a skirt, two coats, a shrug, and a turtleneck for something around $70. Not bad at all!

I hopped on the local train again and made my way down a couple of stops to Shinjuku, home to the busiest train station in the world. This is where train conductors are known to, at peak hours, push and forcibly pack people into the trains. I was going for something a little gentler - the best view of Tokyo from above.

While many think of Tokyo Tower when it comes to seeing out over Japan, it is well known as being an expensive tourist trap. While I still want to make my way to see it at some point, the $15 or so it costs to go to the topmost observatory was a little more than I was willing to give after my Harajuku buying spree. Still, due to some bad directions / my own stupidity, it took me around an hour longer than it should have to get to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. Being 45 stories tall and having two observatories (north and south) makes this an attractive place for tourists who want a view over Tokyo, and, to top it off, visiting the observatories is 100% free of charge. On the recommendation of the ladies at the information desk, I hopped on the elevator for the South tower and arrived with a half hour to spare before the sun set.

Everyone knows Tokyo is big, but it's fairly different knowing that Tokyo could swallow New York whole (and would probably not even notice, at that) and seeing it for yourself. Tokyo is truly immense. The sheer size of it, though, was nothing compared to the spectacle of the sun setting. Japan may be the Land of the Rising Sun, but the sight of the sun sinking down beside Mount Fuji and light reflecting off the buildings as if the whole capitol were a rippling pool of water ... I can't think of many things to rival it. As a mother near me was saying to her son, "Save this image in your head. It's too beautiful for a camera."

Can't see Mt. Fuji yet...

The bump in the cloud cover to the left of the sun (as you look at the image) is Mt. Fuji - the light and clouds obscured it for most of the sunset. You may have to click on the image and enlarge it to see it clearly.

"Seishin" - in Japanese, it is often used to describe an activity that eases the soul. Lately, various things in my life have made me trend towards an ill-temper. As I made my way back to the train station, though, beginning my trek back home, I was feeling at peace. I can't help but feel that this particular trip to Tokyo was one rather full of seishin for me. Despite the general hustle and bustle of Tokyo, and its way of making me constantly feel like a stranger, I can easily think of worse ways to have spent my Gunma Prefecture Day.

"Shotgun Wedding"

2008-10-02T11:30:00.001+09:00

AKA: Aaaaaaawkward...

I was sitting in the staff room recently, chatting with my neighboring teachers, when my birthday came up in conversation. I moaned and said, "24? I'm going to be Christmas Cake soon!"

In Japan, it is a tradition to eat "Christmas Cake" on or before Christmas - I like to call it " 'Happy Birthday, Jesus!' cake", as it's basically the same as a birthday cake, but with a variety of Christmas-themed decorations instead of birthday ones. In the Japanese mind, eating Christmas Cake is law; the idea of skipping out on this tradition is, simply put, an act against nature.

How does this relate to my age? In Japan, a single woman of or around the age of 25 can be granted this title. A woman explained it to me as thus: "Christmas Cake sells for full price until the 24th; it goes at half-price on the 25th, and then down from there." In other words: If you're not married by 25, you get put on the sale rack.
It's an awful saying that I've embraced as my own; it's so terrible that I have to laugh at it as often as possible.

So, back to the staff room and my conversation with my teachers. After my bemoaning an impending "Christmas Cake" label, one of my teachers revealed that she married at 23. I looked stunned, and she said, "It was an accident."

My mind reeled. The Southern woman in me screamed in horror at the sheer number of faux pas waiting to happen from this. Of course, in this panicked status, I did the smart thing (/sarcasm) and decided to reveal a great Southernism: "shotgun wedding."

Don't ask me why I thought it was a good idea at the time - maybe I was assuming that she meant "mistake" instead of "accident." In any case, I explain the principle behind a shotgun wedding - a man is forced, at the end of a shotgun, to marry a woman whom he has impregnated. As I explained, my teacher was nodding, and when I finished, she said, "So, so, so, so, so" in quick succession, the Japanese equivalent of "Yeah! Yeah, that!"

. . .

I still have only one response to this, and that response is: "AWKWARD!"

Taiwan

2008-09-27T17:21:00.009+09:00

AKA: Four days really isn't enough.

There was a national holiday this past Tuesday, so I decided to make the most of it - I took Monday off and had a 4 day weekend in Taiwan. It wasn't nearly enough time, but I did see a lot and, of course, buy a lot.

Why Taiwan? Well, my brother currently lives there, as well as a friend from WashU, Jocelyn. Now, Jocelyn and I met at WashU and were friends, but casual ones; we had rarely spent long periods of time together, but were well-disposed to one another. As I already had two incentives to visit Taiwan, outside of its own attractions, I thought it would be a shame to not see them and the country.

I got in late Friday night and was whisked off to Jocelyn's house. We walked around in the neighborhood a little, popping in to a local grocery store and buying some snacks for me, as I was peckish. This was interesting to me as Taiwan rather likes Japan a lot, so I found a lot of familiar products in the grocery store. "I could make it here if I had to," I actually thought to myself at one point.

The Chaing Kai-Shek Memorial

The next day, Jocelyn took me on a whirlwind tour of several sites. We saw Liberty Square (home of the Chaing Kai-Shek memorial), ate lunch with Ian and his lovely girlfriend, visited Danshui (a beautiful, boardwalk town on the coast), and went to the Shi Lin night market (which was bustling, a state it seems to continually aspire to).

Dan Shui

Sunday saw us to the Jade Market and the Flower Market, both of which were wonderfully fun. I bought a lot of jade, and, being selfish, most of it was for me. The flower market allowed me to try a lot of different kinds of tea, all of which were tasty; chrysanthemum and plum were my two favorites. We also visited Taipei 101, the tallest building in Taipei, though we didn't stay for long; we soon left with Ian and his girlfriend, having a meal together again and taking some time to visit a coffee shop he frequents. I don't like coffee, but I have to admit that he has found a place that serves quality stuff. Afterward, Jocelyn and I went to Ximending, a place often frequented by young people, and did some window shopping, some silly picture-taking, and a lot of talking.

My brother, his girlfriend, and me

Monday was a school day for Jocelyn, so I went to the college campus with her and rested for the two hours she was in her Chinese class. We then went to lunch afterward, but, due to upset tummy issues, I forced our sightseeing time to be cut back abruptly. We rested in the afternoon and then went out to dinner with her mother and two of the family's friends.

Tuesday morning started off bright and early as I said my goodbyes to Jocelyn's family at 6:00 am. Her dad drove me to the airport and I hopped on a plane, starting my long trip back home.

I had an amazing time, and I'm so glad I had Jocelyn around to show me around and speak Chinese on my behalf. It was also good to see my brother, and see that he is thriving in his environment. And, of course, it's good to have new experiences, new pictures, and new souvenirs. I'm more excited about my chances to travel internationally than ever before. Watch out, Asia - I'm comin' for ya!

Catching Up

2008-09-27T01:50:00.004+09:00

I have a lot to discuss, as I've been lax in updating about my life here.

1. Clubbing in Tokyo
The weekend before I went home, I went clubbing in Rippongi (Foreigner Central of Tokyo, as well as the home of one of the best night spots in Japan). The problem with going to Tokyo for the nightlife is that you have to abandon hope of getting home that night. The trains stop at midnight, but for those of us who live out in the boonies, the last train out of Tokyo leaves around 8:30 - well before most of the clubs open. There are, in short, three options for those who want to go dancing and drinking:
A. Don't go clubbing.
B. Go clubbing and rent a hotel as close to your clubbing spots as possible. (Taxis here cost a small fortune.)
C. Stay out at the clubs until the trains start running again ... at 6 in the morning.

The last option is the most cost-effective and the least sane - in Leslie speak, it means "all sorts of fun."

I can't describe to you the feel of a Tokyo club at 3 in the morning; rather, I could try and fail. Nor could I tell you what Tokyo looks like under the early morning sun. In fact, a large portion of why I have hesitated so long in writing this entry is due to the fact that there are so many things about a clubbing all-nighter that can't be put into words. Trust me with this - should you ever have the chance to visit Rippongi and stay from sunset to sunrise, do it. If I'm still in Japan when you go, you can be assured that I'll keep you company!

2. Me, as I am.
When I went home, several people commented that I had changed a lot in my time in Japan. Fortunately, they described these changes as being good things - that I have grown more into myself, that I have realized the potential in personality, character, and confidence I showed before I left. At first, I thought these were the sorts of things one says to a person who has been gone for so long, but I recently was reminded strongly of who I was as a senior in college, and I was amazed to find just how much I had changed in the year since I'd left WashU. Again, this is something I can't describe all that easily, so I will have to abandon the idea there. I will say one more thing, though: I've faced a lot of my fears by coming out here, and have grown strong because of that. It's ... a really good thing.

3. My job
Now, to bring it down a notch, I'm afraid. Work has started again and, as of late, I've become really frustrated with my life at school. As it is the second trimester, the students have lost their "I'm going to be good this year" resolutions and are falling into their worst habits. It frustrates me greatly, which is stress on me that is close to breaking my back. I don't enjoy teaching - I'm not a great teacher, one that these kids will remember for the rest of their lives. I'm just a warm body that repeats at command and plays stupid, sometimes-entertaining games. My teachers value me for my work ethic, but the students ... well, they appreciate that my presence means they won't have to have yet another regular class. I can't inspire students the way good teachers do, and, while that doesn't mean I'm a bad teacher, I really hate doing a job that I know I can't do well.

That being said, developments in the States make me wary of returning. The economy is shot, and the trend of politics has me worried. The prospect of doing this job for another year may become more appealing as 2008 draws to a close.
I suppose there's not much of a point in worrying over it excessively now, but I have to admit that changes are in the works.

An Alien by All Accounts

2008-09-18T21:18:00.002+09:00

AKA: I've effectively been called a monster, and I can't even get mad about it.

Every foreigner in Japan has had it happen. You see a small child staring at you on the train or in a store; you smile and say "hello" in Japanese. The child's eyes go wide in shock. You begin to pray that it won't happen, not again, but it's too late - the child begins crying, scared witless, while his/her parent consoles him/her, occasionally giving you an apologetic look. Yet again, you've scared a child senseless with a wave and a greeting.

By the time they're first or second graders, Japanese children seem to be over this phenomenon. However, if a foreigner happens across a child who looks as though he/she may not yet be in school, said foreigner has to be rather careful in interacting with said child. Now, I have to tell you that this is insanely hard for me. In America, it's common to play* with a baby that's looking at you, even if you're a complete stranger; I'm somewhat trained to smile, wave, and baby-talk at children with whom I make eye contact. On top of this, Japanese children are easily 100 times cuter than American babies, thereby making the aforementioned interacting seem all the more appealing.
In Japan, this kind of interaction between children and strangers is much, much less common. Not only that, but you're a foreigner; it certainly adds to your strangeness and your scare factor.

Surely, being a foreigner isn't that scary to a small child, you may be thinking. It's a social phenomenon that makes foreigners "outsiders," not an innate system. Tabula rasa, Leslie!

Well...not quite.

Developmental psychology has studied the way that newborns and young children identify and differentiate people's faces (Babies have rather poor eyesight.) One study used sensors to trace where the children look while viewing a face - they tended to follow the outline of the face and then focus in on the eyes and mouth. This makes sense - these things are good, general indicators of the object being a human, as well as being good markers for identifying whose face it might be.

Now, people of different ethnicities have different facial structures, as well as different points of reference for differentiating between people. Anyone who says "I just can't tell Asians / African-Americans / Whites / etc. apart!" is suffering from an inability to identify these points of reference. I'll go on ahead and say that Japanese people look very similar to me; I can tell them apart, but not as easily as I can with people from my own ethnicity.

Now, take babies in Japan. They've been introduced almost exclusively to their own ethnicity due to the minimal number of other ethnicities in the country. They are also very aware of the facial markers for their own ethnicity.
Suddenly, they see a creature - the face is bizarre; its features, on the whole, are wrong. And then this monster speaks to you ... in your own language.
As someone in my town said, "It'd be a lot like an alien walking up to you and saying, 'Hey, how's it going?' instead of speaking in blips and clicks."

So, moral of the story, foreigners: adorable Japanese babies think you're scary as hell. (Get used to it!)

* By which I mean "interact in a platonic manner" - pedophiles and other seedy types aren't generally encouraged. Get your mind out of the gutter.

There and Back Again

2008-09-01T10:43:00.010+09:00

AKA: I don't belong anywhere anymore!

Today marks the start of a new school semester, and I find myself thinking of the least original prompt known to man for a post-summer essay: "What did you do during your summer vacation?" All things told, I spent my summer quietly. I went to school, worked on lesson plans, visited with friends and played with my cat. Still, there was a little excitement: Unbeknownst to many, I made a visit back to the States.

That's right, I kept it a secret (a fact that may be more shocking than the secret itself). So as to waylay any offense to those who weren't "in the know," this secrecy was because I was coming for my parents; they had maded it clear that a visit back home was overdue. I wanted to be in control of my schedule and couldn't afford to spend a lot of time running around and visiting everyone.

The trip itself was rather quiet, all things told. I spent 28 hours total traveling from my apartment to my parents' house, which was quite the experience; it would have been unbearable were it not for the involvement of an awesome plane (Air Canada is my new favorite airline) and many, many energy drinks. I stayed awake most of that time, adjusted quickly to my new time zone, and was all set to go the next day.

I had a couple of gatherings in various locations, all of which were fun - I missed my family and friends more than I had realized. This really came to light when the odd and awesome food I brought with me was brought out for everyone's *cough* enjoyment. That being said, I still don't think I can forgive my friends for their lack of appreciation for really, really good sake. (My family's praise of it made up for it, fortunately.)

I did a ridiculous amount of shopping. It's amazing how easily won-over one can be by clothes that fit, an excess of available books, et cetera when one is unused to those situations. My suitcases almost couldn't handle all of the clothing, books, and food I brought back. In fact, I think my carry-on was just as heavy as my much larger, checked bag; considering the difference in size, I find this to be a rather impressive feat. (I blame most of it on the 5 pound bag of grits and the 2 pound, trilogy-in-one book.)

I did and didn't sleep. 2 pm and 6 pm were my worst times, and I occassionally fell prey to a zombie state that could only be fixed by a long nap. There were some days where my sum total of sleep reached double digits, while there were other totals that reminded me strongly of college right around midterms.

There were lots of things that seemed weird to me. The first thought I had when I got off of the plane in Atlanta went along the lines of "Wow, there are a lot of overweight people! And a lot of black people!" The next (notable) thought was, "Huh, none of the guys are dressing fashionably." (Young men and women in Japan are almost always dressing to the nines, and Americans just looked sloppy.) I also felt like I was drowning in all of the green - my house is surrounded by trees, something that I normally love, but I am so unused to it now that I felt I couldn't breathe the first few days I was home.

On the other hand, I adjusted fairly quickly to life back home. The worst thing was hearing myself say, "In Japan..." every time I opened my mouth. It was reminiscent of my return from GHP, and I can't say that the memory of being an annoying, can-only-talk-about-one-thing teen is overly encouraging.

The return trip was long, made all the longer by my having to leave my home at 3 in the morning. I slept a lot on the way, but I still find myself exhausted today. Fortunately, today is the first day of school, so the schedule is very laid back - an assembly, lunch, and a staff meeting. Tomorrow are the post-vacation tests, so another day of relaxing in the staff room for me. Wednesday is when the real work will begin.

I'm glad I went home, but I'm also glad to be back in many ways. While Japan is weird and foreign, it's a weird and foreign I'm now accustomed to, and changing back will be hard. I'm glad I've another year to prepare for that eventuality.

A Blog-Matters Moment

2008-08-14T09:28:00.002+09:00

I've added an email subscription function to the blog. Can I just say that this excites me tremendously? I have a hard time checking blogs regularly, so the idea of having it mailed to me instead of having to check it every day always makes me happy. I'm glad I can now offer this to my (sporatic) readership. Just check to the right of the screen for the sign-up space.

An Honest-to-Goodness Update

2008-08-04T21:54:00.006+09:00

My last entry wasn't much of an update, something I'd feel worse about if I were under the opinion that anyone other than hannah read this blog on a regular basis. That being said, I should give a general update as to my life here ... for posterity's sake.

As of August 1st, I've lived in Ota for a year. Happy anniversary to me!

A little over a month ago, a friend of mine was hit by a small truck while riding her bike after school. She was in a coma for two weeks and will be in the hospital for another month at least, recovering from many broken bones and other injuries. With luck, none of this will be permanent damage. Here's wishing for the best.

Laurel, a friend and old suite-mate of mine from college, came to visit, traveling a bit and spending a long weekend with me. We went to the Ota matsuri (summer festival) together, went to karaoke with Amy, and visited Kamakura and Nikko (two of my favorite places in Japan). It was a lot of fun in general, and I was glad to have the company of someone who'd known me for more than a year.

Speaking of matsuri - I've been to several thus far this summer, and I have to say that there's something truly special about these festivals. I daresay they will be one of the things I miss the most when I leave. Last weekend was the Kiryuu matsuri, where I danced the Yagibushi dance with the locals, and the Ashikaga fireworks festival, where I ooohed and ahhhhed with the rest while looking stylish in my jinbei. Both were extremely fun, especially as I got to go with a pretty different crowd.

A few weeks ago, thanks to a week of many, many meetings, I got in contact with a few of the newer ALTs in my town. I can easily say that the best "discovery" within this crowd is Bob - he's become my new best friend in no time. (Between him and Clarissa, I'm a really happy girl...though, well, I guess I'm to the side of them in my above picture.) In addition, the new JET ALTs recently arrived; while this is sad, as it means I've had to say goodbye to good friends, it is allowing me to enjoy the company of new and different people.

I saw the latest creation of Hayao Miyazaki in theaters, which makes me extremely happy. Ponyo is an adorable movie - I even understood a good portion of it, even though it was all in Japanese (I'm still rather proud of that feat, though, as the main characters are only 5 years old, I probably shouldn't be bragging). I'm hoping that, like the last movie to come out of Studio Ghibli, the DVD will come with English subtitles and dub track even though it's only released in Japan. :D

All in all, I've been social and busy (though maybe not as busy as I should have been). Go, me!

And now I'll leave you with a quote I just heard while re-watching a Scrubs (season 1) episode. It rather sums up how I feel at the moment.

"At a certain point during your first year, things begin to feel a little different. You've arrived, you know? You just start to feel ... cooler. The point is, we found our stride. We know all the ins and outs. Let's face it - we've earned the right to be a little cocky."

Constant Vigilance

2008-07-25T20:37:00.004+09:00

If you've read the fourth book and beyond in the Harry Potter series, you're familiar with the catch phrase of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody: "Constant vigilance, Potter! Constant vigilance!" While Mad-Eye intended his warning for Hogwarts students who were unaware of the perils of the wizarding world, I do find the phrase coming to mind every so often during my daily-life activities in Japan. For your reading pleasure, my top 5 dangers to a foreigner in Japan (in no particular order):

1. Bathrooms
It's something I've become used to - the idea that "bathroom" means "porcelain-lined hole in the ground that just so happens to flush."

Of course, that's not all - two surprises wait for you outside of the stall:
A. No soap. I'll never understand why, in a country where cookies come individually wrapped instead of in sleeves for the fear that someone might get their cooties on it, there is not a shred of soap to be found in most bathrooms.
B. No hand-drying apparatus. This is a 75% inevitability - I'm occasionally pleasantly surprised by an air dryer that, unlike its American cousin, does the job quickly and effectively. In most places, though, you'd best hope you remembered to bring your handkerchief/wash cloth.

2. Pizzas
If you bring home a frozen pizza, expect it to have three toppings: cheese, pepperoni, and corn. Corn makes its way onto more pizzas than I can say, and I'm still confused as to why. Also, anticipate an encounter with a pizza that is topped with seaweed, egg roe, or mayonnaise...if not all three. (Yes, I have seen/eaten such a thing.)

Point in fact, anticipate mayonnaise to make a sneak attack on any dish you order. And, of course, Japanese mayonnaise is very different from the American kind, in that it is thicker and stronger in taste. (Read: Ew. Ew ew.)

3. Man Purses
Men will wear purses that in no way scream "manly." These man purses will also come in forms of man fanny-packs. To top it off, they will be name brands - as in, men spending small fortunes on their DG-covered purse. Do your best to not laugh.
Don't believe me? A picture's worth a thousand words.

4. Fashion and the Concept of Matching
I'm no longer scared or startled when I see a young woman wearing shoes a size too small (or a size too large) and an outfit with the coordinating colors of purple, gold, black, and either a blue somewhere between periwinkle and electric or some bright shade of orange. Fashion is just a different monster here, and (outside of affording some amusing Engrish on t-shirts) is in general just ... a frightening phenomenon you accept over time.

5. Katakana English
A lot of foreign words have made it into Japanese, and a good number of those words are from English. Great! I'll have an easier time understanding and being understood, right?
Wrong. Ooooh so so wrong.
Say "McDonalds" (even with a Japanese accent) and you'll get nothing but confusion. Say "Maakku" and suddenly everyone around you is thinking of burgers. "Beeru" means "building," whereas "beeeru" means "beer." (Do you hear the difference? I'm just barely able to, and it's rather a bad thing to confuse the two.) "Pah-so-con" means "personal computer" or "PC," and "depah-to" means "department store." In short, prepare for the most foreign of all languages to be your own.

Schoooooool's Out for Summer!

2008-07-15T15:02:00.005+09:00

AKA: Goals and A Little Bit of Looking-Ahead

I've been rather quiet here as of late due to a number of things. That's mostly because I haven't been doing much that I find worth reporting. I had some trips planned, but the weather and circumstances haven't been helping me out on this score.

Life goes on, of course. I only have five [cue chorus of angels] classes left until summer vacation starts. Six glorious weeks of no classes - joy!

Of course, with so much time on my hands, I have a lot I'm hoping to accomplish. So, for your reading pleasure, I present my list of goals for the summer break (in roughly chronological order).

1. Travel a bit with Laurel (July 19th - 21st)
Laurel, a roommmate from college and a good friend, is coming to visit later this week. We're going to do some traveling and I'm really looking forward to spending some time with her. And, of course, being seen around Japan with a 5'10 blond hottie.

2. Say goodbye to the departing JETs (August 1st)
;_; Not really a goal, but something I have to keep in mind.

3. Celebrate my 1 year anniversary in Japan (August 1st)
Of course, this directly coincides with the departure of the non-recontracting JETs, so I may fudge the date a bit.

4. Participate in Kid's English camp (in the mornings of July 30th, 31st, and August 1st)
Elementary school students plus other ALTs plus games ... should be a fun time!

5. Welcome new JETs (July 30th, August 6th)
The new JETs will come in to town and I get to ride around with the supervisor and show them the "sights" (the bank, the cellphone store, Pink Street...)

6. Participate in the UNESCO English Camp (August 8th - 10th)
Woohoo, English! Woohoo, earning 2 days of vacation time! I've high hopes for this weekend being a fun one.

7. Go home!!
I'm going home for a week...it should be awesome. If you haven't heard about when I'm coming home, I'm sorry - since I'll only be home a very short time, I'm limiting who knows about the trip so as to be sure to spend enough time with my family. I still love you!

8. Study for the JLPT level 3
The test isn't until December, but I'm worried about my ability to pass this test. This level corresponds to some 300 hours of study, so I'm trying to think ahead and be sure to study enough for it. My JET Japanese lessons ended in June and I've been slacking off a lot the past month - I've been enjoying getting back into the groove of studying an hour or so every day.
...
I'm such a nerd.

9. Get ahead on the "teaching" thing
I have a lot of goals for preparing myself for the next semester - having at least one game for each chapter in each grade, for example, and scanning my worksheets to make an electronic database of my files. I also want to finish my lesson plans for the rest of the year in elementary school. (Fortunately, I've only 11 of an original 30 left to plan!) This should take up a lot of my "sitting at the office with nothing to do" time.

10. Prepare for applying to graduate schools
I have a lot of investigating I need to do on this front, and I want to start doing as much of it as I can now. I've already got a file going on most of the schools, but I want to get some correspondence going with the faculty members and figure out a little more of what I need to do before applying.

It's only 10 things, but, now that I look at it, it seems like I won't really have a lot of the aforemtnioned time on my hands.
Well, as the Japanese say, "FIGHT-O!" v ^_^ v

Earthquakes

2008-06-16T11:51:00.002+09:00

A few people seem to have heard about the earthquake, and the resulting casualties, in Miyagi-ken*, and I've gotten a some expressions of concern from friends and family as to my safety. I blame a lot of this on the media, who say things like, "There was an earthquake in Japan" and do not go any further to define the location of the tremor.

To begin, Gunma-ken is one of the safer places in Japan as far as earthquakes are concerned. We have earthquakes around once a month, but they are rarely anything stronger than a 3. In short, it feels like the earth gets a sudden chill and shivers, or like a really large truck is driving by and shaking the house. Nothing falls, nothing breaks, and I don't even really react to them anymore. I've slept through earthquakes like this.

In regards to this most recent earthquake, I was on the phone (well, Skype) with my parents at the time. "Hold on just a sec; there's an earthquake" was my reaction. It was rather slow by the time it got to my area of Japan and felt rather sluggish.
I didn't know that there were casualties until the next day, when I got a couple of "hey, are you OK?" reactions from people who'd heard the bad news. Things have been rather bad up north in Miyagi-ken. There have been tremors every ten or twenty minutes and the quake registered as a 7.2. Nine people are confirmed as dead and another twelve or so are missing. It's a bad situation, and (unfortunately) one that will continue to occur again and again in Japan.

The interesting thing about this incident was the use of some new technology that predicted the oncoming quake before it arrived. An announcement was made on the NHK channels in the area some 3 minutes before the quake hit. It wasn't enough to save all of the lives, but hopefully the time between the predictions and the event will grow and incidents like this can become old-hat.

So...I'm safe, and am likely to be safe in the future. Thank you for your concern, and be sure to keep the citizens of Miyagi-ken in your thoughts.

*Note: "-ken" means "prefecture."

Canyoning, Centipedes, and Other Things of Interest

2008-06-08T13:38:00.004+09:00

AKA: A Weekend of Unexpected Things

I learned quickly to just say "I'm going to Minakami" when people asked about my plans for the weekend rather than telling the whole, more specific truth: "I'm going to be sliding down rivers in a wetsuit."

Well, there's a little more to it than just that.

At around 8:30 Saturday morning, I and five others (Amy, our hostess, Scott, Abel, Lisa, and Monica) waited to be picked up by someone from Canyons, an outdoor activities group in Minakami. We set off and quickly found ourselves doing battle with wetsuits and preparing to go out and about on the river for the day.

We spent the morning white water rafting in a very, very cold river. Our group was lead by Sean, a well-traveled Irishman with a good sense of humor. For example, one of the first things he did while we were in his boat was go to the front, on the pretense of checking some things around Scott, only to suddenly grab Scott by the back of his life jacket and flip him over the side of the raft. The river was icy, as Scott learned first and we all soon learned ourselves ... again, thanks to the help of our trusty guide.

As we were riding down the river, Sean pointed out the number of cops on one side of the river and a circling helicopter. "See that bridge? People like to bungee-jump off of it, but last night we had someone who decided to jump without a cord." Apparently, the Canyons employees had gotten a call at 5:30 that morning from the police, asking if they would patrol the river in search of the body. (The cops, Sean explained, had no river training.) The search had not yet been concluded, hence the remaining presence of the officers.

We continued a little further down the river, being flipped out at one point by our tricky guide and being tumbled out by the river on several other occasions. At one point, however, we slowed to a crawl, and Sean was distracted by a boat off to the side, manned by a few guides and entirely empty of tourists. These guides were leaning out of the boat, pointing into the river and drawing the attention of another boat, similarly lacking in tourists. One guide looked up, made eye contact with Sean and nodded. At that, Sean turned in the boat, said "forward, everyone," and powered us away. The dead body was missing no longer.

We finished the river course with little else of note occurring, though I did manage to lose a boot at one point in the rafting and only managed to reacquire it at the very end of the trip (another boat had picked it up). We piled into the busses and headed back to the Canyons headquarters, where ate a delicious lunch and grabbed even more gear in preparation for our canyoning experience.

Canyoning involved hiking some 30 minutes along the river which would soon be our way back down the river. Our guides, Dean (I think...) and Takeshi, did a wonderful job of keeping us entertained during this hike, mostly with their upbeat banter ("Don't go down this way, or you'll probably break several bones, ok? [all said with upbeat tone and wide smile]"). In short, the method was to lay oneself out as flat as possible and then let the water carry you lightly over the rocks and whatnot until you reached a calm pool. It was basically like a waterslide, but with more opportunities to run up against painful obstacles. Despite this danger potential, it was fun, though not something I would want to do on a regular basis.

With the day done, we made our way back to Amy's apartment. Once everyone was clean and well-fed, we settled down to watch Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, as Monica hadn't seen it before. I was making a comment to Scott at one point when one of these scurried across the floor next to Scott. I can easily say that this thing was at least 6 inches long and DISGUSTING. On top of that, mukade (as they are called) are POISONOUS. Ew ew ew ew ew.
Ew ew ew.
Ew.
I'm not usually all that squeemish about bugs, but this thing just about had me running up the walls.
Scott grabbed the thing with a pair of chopsticks and disposed of it outside, but everyone was still a little too riled by it to stay downstairs. We relocated in the relative safety of the upstairs and shortly went to sleep.

The next day I made my way home, feet a little worse for the wear but otherwise intact. It was a fun experience overall, but I feel the only descriptor that truly fits the weekend is "unexpected."

Japanese Music

2008-05-25T14:11:00.005+09:00

CDs here are, in my mind, insanely expensive, costing anywhere from $25 to $40 a piece. I've had the fortune to come across a music blog for Asian music that is furthering my education in Japanese music exponentially.

So, without further adue, a review of a few of the new groups I've been exploring:

1. Shiina Ringo (椎名林檎)
This female singer has been around for a while, apparently, but I find this all the better as it means there's a wealth of her music to be found online. Her style varies quite a bit, sounding something like Alanis Morisette at one moment, like Bjork the next, then like Fiona Apple, and practically always having a strong jazz influence. Her music, on the whole, I could throw on at a blues or salsa dance without causing anyone to skip a beat. Even better for linguaphobes, she does quite a bit of stuff in English.

- YouTube: Yokushitsu and its English counterpart, La Salle de Bain
- YouTube: Ringo no Uta
- YouTube: Papaya Mango

Of the four groups I review in this entry, Shiina Ringo is the only one I would say has true musicality or would label as a true musician. (Not that it should keep you from enjoying the others, but ... it's something for the music snobs in each of us to keep in mind.)

2. EXILE
This is nothing but a boy band, but mentioning them on a worksheet rarely fails to get a good reaction out of my female students. This being said, I do enjoy a few of their songs (though never enough that I would buy the album myself). One of their more recent singles, "I Believe," sounds like it's straight off of a Christmas album, but it's upbeat and enjoyable. Just imagine the lyrics as whatever the Backstreet Boys would have been likely to put to such music and you're set.

- YouTube: a live version of I Believe...unfortunately, one of the singer's microphones is ... off.

3. UVERworld
Another boy band, but one a little more along the punk-rock persuasion, UVERworld is easily becoming one of my favorite bands. Do I know what they're saying? No. Considering the random mix of English and Japanese, I daresay few people outside of the band itself know what's really going on (and even then, I do have to wonder about the band's comprehension). I first fell in love with their single "D-technolife," but since have come to enjoy more of their songs. Upbeat, dance-inducing, and right up my alley.

- YouTube: D-technolife
- YouTube: Ukiyo Crossing
- YouTube: Shaka Beach (Laka Laka La)

4. Perfume (パフューム)
This female trio band is one of the top techno bands in Japan, apparently, and techo is certainly their schtick. I fell in love with them from a commercial promoting recycling that was running when I first arrived here but only recently found out their name. I haven't turned on my iPod the past few days without listening to their single "Polyrhythm" at least once, and, outside of the fact that I find the face of the long-and-straight-haired one to be somewhat creepy, I have little with which to fault them.

- YouTube: Recycling Commercial
- YouTube: Polyrhythm
- YouTube - Macaroni (Yes, it's ridiculous, but come on. Techno.)

And, with that, I will end my music review. :)

Casual Thursdays

2008-05-25T13:00:00.002+09:00

AKA: I Just Can't Seem to Get Comfortable.

Walking into my elementary school feels completely different from walking into my middle school. In elementary, school is treated as a fun endeavor, an attitude reflected in the students and the teachers. Students are running and playing outside before class starts, and I usually am greeted with enthusiasm. Around half of the kids wear the uniform, while the other half wear regular clothes (I still haven't figured out the way this system of "who wears the uniform when" works). The teachers are all wearing some form of track suit. Most everyone, whether student or faculty, is decently willing to give English a shot in the classroom; the two exceptions I can think of are both students.

On the other hand, middle school is much more serious. All of the students always wear their uniform, and two-thirds of the teachers wear business casual clothing instead of track suits. A number students will avoid making eye contact with me so as to not have to say "hello" or "good morning," and they are always heading straight inside to their classrooms in the morning. Most of the faculty will tell me how they "just can't speak English in the slightest," and many students have given up on gaining English proficiency and are just hoping to get decent enough grades.

And yet, while my Thursdays at the elementary school are much more casual and laid back, I find that I cannot relax here.

I'd say a large portion of this is due to the difference in atmosphere of the staff rooms. There are 5 English teachers in my middle school, as well as several other teachers who are very proficient in English. Three of these teachers sit around me in the staff room. On the other hand, there are maybe three proficient English speakers all together in my elementary school, and they are much farther away from me. There is a lot of pressure on me to speak Japanese at the elementary school, therefore, and my improvements in the language still aren't enough for me to have an easy time bantering with or feeling close to my neighbors.

I'm also a weekly occurrence at the elementary school, a sort of regular interruption to their normal routine. As such, I don't know many of my 35 teachers' names, much less their general personalities. My middle school is my "base" school, meaning I stay there four days a week. I know my teachers' names, the subjects they teach, if they have homerooms and have, on the whole, had some sort of interaction with them such that I feel I know them to some extent.

I suppose elementary school is only casual on the outside. While I can wear a glorified sweat-suit to work and play nothing but games with the kids, I'll probably never be more than a stranger, an outsider.

[One thing I can recommend of my elementary school over my middle school is the office manager, Sasaki-sensei, who never fails to amuse me with his antics. Most of these fall under the category of "lunch," where he eats easily three times as much of our ample lunch portions as anyone else on staff, to the amazement of the teachers and students. It's a glorious sight to behold.]

Confusion at the Office

2008-05-20T19:12:00.006+09:00

"Leslie."
I looked up, confused. No one was speaking to me. Conclusion: someone was speaking about me.

It was Kimura-sensei, the female P.E. teacher. A little listening revealed that, apparently, I was supposed to teach the boy's P.E. class in 5th period to cover for Okada-sensei, the male P.E. teacher who wasn't in today.
Note: It was already 4th period.

Confusion. Why wasn't I told? Why would they have me teach a substitute class, especially considering the fact that I'm not legally allowed to be left with a class on my own? Why wasn't I told? Who came up with this plan? And, of course, why wasn't I told?

This is, unfortunately, a fairly common occurrence in the average ALT's life. Randomly you find you are to do something - no one told you, you're not supposed to according to your contract, and you have nothing prepared. For example, I've run around the school looking for a class that, because of a schedule change, wasn't meeting that period. Most of this comes from the fact that I don't understand (or pay attention to, for that matter) the meetings in the mornings, where I would learn about a lot of the bigger issues - schedule changes, upcoming class activities, and so on. But some of it is just because no one realized the ALT hasn't been told.

In this case, it was written on a schedule in the possession of the head of the 2nd year teachers (I am considered a 2nd year teacher) and he hadn't noticed it. More horrifying than this, however, was that this same schedule indicated that I should have taught a math class earlier that day, when I was scheduled to be in an English class, and was to teach one on Wednesday and Thursday.
Problem (outside of my intense hatred of math): I don't even COME to my middle school on Thursdays, as I'm scheduled to be at my elementary school on those days.

Lunch time rolled around and I was preparing myself for overseeing a game of soccer...my specialty, har har...with the 1st year boys. I found out that Kasahara-sensei was in charge of assigning teachers to oversee absentee-teacher classes, so I found him as the lunch period started and asked him about it.

"You're taking the P.E. class? That's great!"
"Yes, but...I can't teach this math class. I'm not here on Thursdays; I go to the elementary school."
"...waaaait, this is MY schedule! I just write it down where your name is because there's more space. But you should still join us for soccer!"
"...*cue throbbing headache*"

While I was reassured about not having to teach either P.E. or math, I must say that these occasional bouts of "Oh, you didn't know this vital and imminently pertinent piece of information?" in my office do seem a tad unnecessary.
Just a tad.

Can I get a mask and a folding chair with that?

2008-05-14T08:39:00.004+09:00

At school, the kids sometimes call me "wrestler."

Now, this may seem out of the blue, but stay with me. My name is Leslie. In Japan, the "L" sound and the "R" sound are combined, making my name sound more like "resurii." Wrestler is pronounced "resuraa." So it's really a small jump from "resurii" to "resuraa," and it's the first thing they think of when they hear my name.

I also sometimes get "refurii" ... referee.

This is all well and good - kids have their fun, and the fact that I have a few nicknames is a good thing... I think. On the whole, it probably means they like me to some degree. (I've recently gotten called "Leslie Jackson" by the track girls, as I have a "Jackson image." What that means I don't know, and all I can hope is that my Jackson image isn't a Michael or Tito one...or a Jessie one, for that matter, considering the "wrestler" bit.)

Yesterday, I was in one of my first-year classes at the middle school; things were going well. That is to say, things were going well until my teacher says, in front of a class of 36 12-year-olds, to repeat after "resuraa."

Moment of silence...class explodes.

I staggered to the closest wall, clutching my chest and acting to the best of my abilities as though I had been mortally wounded. The class was dying, and my teacher was trying to apologize but was doubled over, laughing just as hard as the kids (especially when I threw in a "kurushii..." ["it hurts..."] for her benefit). It took about some 3 or 4 minutes for us to get back on track, but it was a wonderful interlude.

Ahh, the life of a foreigner...

Spring Evolution

2008-05-09T19:04:00.000+09:00

I have a few symptoms as of late.

A sample:

I feel the need to replace my wardrobe.

I want to buy new pencils, erasers, and so on, not because I need them, but because my old ones are no longer novel or cute enough.

I feel like going out, having fun, running around ... all the while being very, very lethargic.
Some would call this spring fever - I don't. "Fever" implies "feverish," the idea that someone is running around in an unnatural, somewhat manic state. That just isn't the case. I feel like I'm growing too old for my things, that I've somehow matured past the person who owned those clothes, those accessories, those habits. I'm stretching, flexing, and prodding my surroundings, calculating my way out of this old skin to a newer, polished version of myself.

So, part of that escape is a change to this blog. The digitally-altered view of Tokyo at night was born of a girl dreaming of life in Japan from behind the desk of a college computer lab. Its replacement is a photo I took - that in and of itself is enough to make it a better representative of the things for which this blog stands.

In short, forgive the abandoned skin, discarded on the floor, and just pay attention to the new, sleek me.

Kaburaya Festival

2008-05-09T15:31:00.007+09:00

AKA: You mean this area is KNOWN for something?

I had been told about the Kaburaya Festival in brief before yesterday, but had forgotten about it completely. Fortune was with me, however, as the festival not only fell on the day I normally go to elementary school, but that the grade I was to be teaching was one of the two grades that would be attending the celebration.

In short, if you don't care to read the above-linked article, the Kaburaya festival celebrates the time when Nitta Yoshisada, a retainer of the emperor, was called to gather an army and head to Kamakura to do battle with the shogunate there. This he did, calling his troups to gather at Ikushina Shrine.

Now, the festival involves elementary school children, specifically the 6th grade boys, reinacting the part of the gathering army. After speeches and ritual blessings (both of which are frequently found in Japan), these children march in, dressed in traditional clothing, armed with bows and dummy-arrows - bamboo shoots with poster paper fletching. They gather at the center of the shrine and hear a stirring speech from their leader, an older man in the same traditional wear, and then march out to the shrine gate.

They fall into ranks and then fire their first volley into a crowd consisting mostly of over-excited mothers and grandparents. I was told afterwards that catching an arrow as it is falling ensures the catcher a year's worth of happiness, but I'm hoping that my snatching one from the ground will still afford me some good luck.

After firing a second volley (for which I took a video - I think this will let you see it), the boys are led in rousing cries of what I can only label "blokey bravado stuff," thanks to a clear memory of an episode of Creature Comforts, and go back into the center of the shrine to sing a song before being dismissed by their leader.

All in all, it was a small but enjoyable affair, especially as two of my three classes were canceled on its behalf. The students were clearly having a fun time, and the boys looked great in their black and white hakama. Still, I can't help but feel that someone was watching out for me in lining up everything such that I would be able to go and enjoy it...

What I'll Miss about Japan

2008-04-28T13:35:00.001+09:00

I've been thinking about home a lot recently, but it's become quite common for my thoughts of home to turn 180 degrees to what I'll miss about Japan once I leave. Thoughts of food usually arise at such times, and of public transportation, but today made me think of another thing I will truly miss:
Back home, I won't be famous.

It seems that, every time I leave my house, I run into at least one student. Sometimes, as I walk around the mall or grocery store, I hear a whispered "...Leslie-sensei!" from behind me. Sometimes I see them ahead and get an excited wave, or a "deer in the headlights" look, or sometimes even a "please don't see me, please don't see me" brush-off. Still, the fact that my presence elicits a response whenever I go out is very, very different for me.

Being so noticeable has its downsides, to be sure - sometimes, I don't want to be so on display. Also, it gets worse the more of us there are. 4 foreigners walking around in the mall gets us a lot of stares, and, should one of our number be anything but white, well, the level of stares is exponentially higher. Overall, though, the reactions are positive and I enjoy my little kingdom of fame.

A good example of this was two weekends ago, when we celebrated Odelia's birthday by picking fresh strawberries. The concept, which I find to be a hilarious one, runs along these lines: play a flat rate and have access to a grove of strawberries, all you can eat, for 30 minutes. (You quickly find that you can't eat all that many strawberries in one sitting.) The picking field was in my part of Ota, and along the way the group of some 10 of us saw quite a few of my students. One group of boys were playing basketball at someone's house, some passed us in cars or buses on the road, and every one of them we saw waved excitedly at us and spoke to us (when possible). Throughout the next week, I had those students come up to me at school and ask me about it. It was a lot of fun.

My position as a not-real teacher helps with this - I don't discipline the kids, I don't give out homework, and I come with a game or worksheet that won't count against their grade. I'm also different, which is (this time) perceived as a fun thing. Once I move back state-side, though, I'll lose my notoriety, and I can already tell that I'll miss my short stint with fame.

Kyoto

2008-04-14T22:02:00.016+09:00

AKA: Impressions of a City

Were I to write up a comprehensive entry of my four days in Kyoto, I fear I would lose the interest of my (already minimal) readership. We went to at least 16 notable places, we ate the local specialties, and I endure through some million mental images when someone asks me about the trip. Instead, I'll write some of my impressions...which will be a long enough post as it is! (If you want more specifics, comment and let me know!)

Kyoto ... felt like an old love; I loved it in a way that was not passionate or overwhelming, but instead had a very comfortable, broken-in kind of feel. It sounds odd for me to say that, as I've always felt myself to be more of a country or outer suburbs sort of girl. I love being surrounded by nature, quiet, and my own space; the idea of being comfortable in a city seems entirely out of my realm.

There were several things that made Kyoto comfortable, in my mind. To start, the city sprawls. It's huge, and there is a lot there, but it doesn't have the cramped feel of Tokyo (or New York, or Chicago's downtown, or Atlanta's downtown, or...). It also has a very well-planned public transportation system. We were mostly using buses on our visit, which is my least favorite kind of public transportation, and yet it was always so clear where we were and how we were going that I rarely, if ever, had cause to complain. I find both of these qualities really attractive in a city, especially because they are things you can't find in the suburbs/country-side. Kyoto is also breathtakingly gorgeous. Now, we were visiting at the height (arguably) of Kyoto's beauty - the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the weather was that of sunny-spring instead of rainy-spring. Still, it is wonderful to be in a city with parks, trees, and occasionally even grass (a luxury I never fully appreciated before seeing the dirt field in front of my middle school in the midst of a heavy rain).

In short, I never felt threatened by it's city-ness, nor did I ever feel that I was in an ugly place.

One of the major life lessons I'm trying to take from my time here in Japan is how and where I like to live. I've never lived on my own before, and this is pretty dagum "on my own." Kyoto taught me that I like the idea of living such that owning a car was unnecessary, or, at the very least, not an everyday necessity.

Of course, a large part of having a comfortable, long-term love is knowing your partner's faults. Kyoto was too touristy; I would always feel I was being viewed as a tourist. As Ota, especially my corner of it, is not exactly what you would call a "tourist trap," I feel like people understand that I'm here on a long-term agenda when they see me in the local store. I take a lot of comfort in that feeling. While I should probably try to adjust my neurosis in regards to how I'm viewed instead of complaining about how it limits me, I do find fault in Kyoto with this.
(...not to mention the swell of tourists come the weekend. It was strangling.)

I will tell two quick stories, as I think I'd do any post about my trip a disservice to not include them.

1. Hanami
In Japan, it's traditional to have "cherry-blossom viewing parties," or "hanami" in Japanese. While this sounds like a very spiritual thing, like a time of reflection, it is, in fact, an excuse to get wickedly drunk. We went to a pretty famous park on Thursday night in order to experience this phenomenon, and experience it we did. Maruyama Park is lit at night, so we arrived at 4 or 5 and stayed until well past dark, finally leaving at 9:30. During that time, we were "adopted" by a group of Japanese people and one foreigner, all cheifs for a local hotel. They gave us some of their extra food, which was delicious, and some of their extra alcohol. All of this was entertaining, especially because they were using their broken English and we were using our broken Japanese. They laughed at us when we said we lived in Gunma; they laughed even harder when they saw the alcohol we brought ("I guess it's ok for a foreigner..."). They labeled Aaron as a John Travolta doppelganger and, upon my asking, declared Clarissa to be Whitney Houston. Some moments were priceless, though I will say that my favorite moment was when the nicest of the bunch said, in apology for the sudden on-rush of his coworkers, "Many men...ONE gentleman." (I just about died laughing.) We were issued invitations to join them for post-hanami partying, but, as they were "likely to be sick any moment" drunk, we declined and went home instead. All in all, it was a wonderful experience and was easily one of the highlights of the trip.

2. Fushimi Inari
My favorite place in Kyoto, I can easily say, was Fushimi Inari. It's known as "the Shrine of 1,000 Tori" ("tori" are the red arches/gates often found at the entrance to a shinto shrine), though the name is somewhat of a misnomer. It should be "the Shrine of 1,000,000 Tori," and no one will convince me that there are fewer than that number there. The main shrine is at the base of a mountain, while the inner shrine resides at the top of said mountain. The path from the main shrine to the inner one is lined with tori of various sizes: the largest each standing as close to the one before it and behind it as possible, straddle the path between the shrines, while the two smaller sizes (between 1 foot and 3 feet in height) are stacked, hung, and otherwise arranged so as to enable them to be seen, but out of the way. The place is literally overflowing with these red and black arches.

It was really beautiful. There is a real sense of peace in walking along those arches, feeling them sweep over you and knowing that each arch is another knotch of time flowing past you peacefully, bringing you a little further forward in your life.

Tokyo Plus

2008-04-08T14:39:00.004+09:00

AKA: A Very Busy Time

The month of March was one without rest. To start, my friends (Caitlin, mostly) began planning day trips to various places and inviting me on said day trips, filling my weekends. It was also the end of the school year (which runs from April to April here), which brought a lot of changes in my school life, as well as a lot of End of Year activities. As if this were not enough, I also had a few visitors from the US - a friend of mine from WashU, Jeff, and his two siblings.

Most of the time I was hanging out with Jeff-tachi ("Jeff et. al") was spent in Tokyo, a place that had, during my summer orientation, earned my esteemed "Hell on Earth" ranking due to its sheer size and overcrowded feel. In short, I wasn't looking forward to spending some 7 days there.

When all was said and done, though, I had a lot of fun; Tokyo no longer freaks me out quite so much. While I couldn't tell you of every place we visited or all the things I did, as I'm ever-so-forgetful, I can tell you that my highlights were found late one night in Rippongi.

Now, Rippongi is known as the place where foreigners go to eat, drink, and party. OJ, Jeff's brother, was determined to dance and possibly find a "nice girl" that night, so we went clubbing. I wasn't sure about all of this until we got out on the floor. OJ was not to be ignored, and decided he would showcase his abilities to the eligible ladies through salsa.

Three or four times that night, OJ would cut in on my dancing with Jeff and take me to a viewable location. Then, the salsa would begin, me doing my best to not screw up and OJ doing an admirable job of not giving me the chance. He would keep his eyes open, looking to see which of the girls were watching us, and, when he found one to his fancy, he would send me back to Jeff and make his move. Should the target ever ask about the girl with whom he was dancing so recently, well, she was clearly dancing with his brother, wasn't she? The fish was on the hook before she could realize the danger.

When I wasn't dancing with OJ, I was dancing to exhaustion with Jeff. It's rare that I'm in a situation where there's not only dancing music, but a boy who's willing to dance with me all night and a complete anonymity in the crowd. I wasn't ever going to see any of these people again, nor was I likely to have the chance to dance anytime soon, so I truly let myself go. By the time Jeff and I left, which was around 3 in the morning, I had a happy exhaustion I usually associate with the end of a Cowboy Mouth concert. I was sweaty and footsore, but very content.

(An amusing sidenote: OJ didn't make it back to the hotel until 6:30 the next morning; he was having too much fun staying out on the town.)

Jeff came back to Ota with me for a week and joined me a few days at school. Unfortunately, there was only one day in which I was teaching classes - the rest of the time was filled with the elementary school graduation, the End of Year ceremony, and the start of spring break. For those two classes and his time visiting my school, though, Jeff was a total star. Everyone wanted to know who he was, why he was here, and whether he was my boyfriend (rather, most assumed and were shocked to find he isn't). Many of my male students were thrilled, greeting him three or four times in a row (and then, belatedly, greeting me). I think he won me a lot of student interest, which I hope will help refresh their interest in my classes a bit.

So it seems that the thing I needed to get over Tokyo was nothing more than spending a couple of weekends there with good company. Who knew?

St. Patrick's Day!

2008-03-18T15:40:00.009+09:00

AKA: I'm Just a Poor, Wayfarin' Irishwoman...

St. Patrick's day is pretty much unheard of in Japan. While there seems to be (according to the Japanese wikipedia page) some small celebration of it in Tokyo, there is little to none of it out in the inaka ("country-side") where I live.

Still, St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite holidays, so I did what I could. I decorated my English board with a St. Patrick's Day theme, I taught a couple of St. Patrick's Day classes, and I wore green. After that, I went home, and did what is turning into my annual tradition - made an Irish dinner, drank beer, and watched an Irish(-themed) movie.

Now, making a traditional Irish dinner here would be next to impossible, or at the very least required more effort than I was willing to give. I compromised with a dinner of green, white, and orange, all of which are the colors of Ireland.

My mom pointed this out to me, and, while I already knew it, I will pass it on to my readers - the flag of Ireland represents the two factions of Christianity, Catholicism (green) and Protestantism (orange), and the hope for peace between the two (white). My mother, who comes from a Catholic line, said that orange was never allowed near her St. Patrick's Day meals when she was young, but that "a meal of all green is not very pretty."

In any case, I was proud of the results of my cooking.

	The whole spread...
	....and a view from above.
	The sides: salad with cucumbers, 2 kinds of lettuce, orange bell pepper, carrots, and homemade dressing; rice with sweet potato; and some random, heart-shaped, green and orange chips.
	The main dish: salmon sashimi on a bed of shredded radish, with a side of spicy-marinade cucumbers and some delicious vegetable for which I don't know the name.
	My beer; I couldn't find any Irish beers, so I just went for one in a green can and my normal Asahi Super "DRY" (scare quotes added by Asahi, not me).
	My dessert: green an-mochi, white an-mochi, and mandarin orange segments. See, it makes the flag! I'm so cute.

Of course, I couldn't finish all of this; I never got around to the bottle of Asahi, and most of the rice in that bowl went to waste. Still, it was delicious and I was pretty pleased with how well it all turned out! :D

Oh, and by the way, if you were curious about which movie I ended up watching, it was:

Graduation

2008-03-18T15:32:00.001+09:00

AKA: "Bye bye, baby..."

Graduation was bitter sweet for me. On the one hand, I was excited to see the ceremony here and glad that my students were at this exciting point in their lives (think high school graduation, end of compulsory education, etc. for back home). On the other, I was seeing the best behaved and most interesting of my students leave, knowing all the while that the worst behaved group of students in my town, arguably, would succeed them.

The Japanese love a good ceremony, and this was no exception. The preparation was intense, and the staff room had been gaining a progressively more and more stressful air as graduation came nearer. Even I was recruited to help - I helped pass out programs to the "important visitors" we had. This was quite the category, as people were invited from the Board of Education, other schools, and God only knows where else. The gym, the center of the ceremonies, was completely decked out in red and white, the ceremonial colors of good fortune and happiness, and flowers (both fake and real) graced most of the stage.

The ceremony began, as most do, with an official statement from the vice-principal ("This marks the start of the graduation ceremony!"). After that, everyone sang the "start of graduation song," which everyone but myself seemed to know, giving me the impression that it's a common aspect of graduation. Immediately following this was the school song, which I could at least join in at certain parts.

Then, suddenly, diplomas were being handed out. "Where are the speakers?" I thought in horror-turned-joy, for I realized that I would have quite a hard time looking attentive through several lengthy speeches in a language I don't understand. The diploma ceremony itself amused me for a couple of reasons.
1. My principal was wearing a coat with tails. He very strongly reminded me of a bellhop.
2. The walk to the podium was very regimented and ... clockwork. It was almost funny.
3. The first and last diplomas were read in full; all of the others were handed to the students only with the announcement of their names.
4. During the time when the students were rotating (as it seemed to be to me) to the platform, everyone was completely silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the faintly-playing recordings of the Chorus Competition songs for each of the classes.

After this, to my disappointment, the speeches began. Telegrams from teachers who at some point taught these students and wanted to make their well-wishes known were read aloud, and representatives from the Board of Education, the PTA, and others spoke. The main difference in these speeches from those made in American graduations was that each of the speakers had their speech written on a formal, folded piece of paper, which he or she than gave to the principal. To quote one of my mom's favorite (stolen from a movie and said in a French accent) lines, "Why? We do not know." Another odd part was the standing. At times, everyone stood during a speech; at others, only a certain group of students would, or just the teachers and the parents. I didn't question, but stood whenever I heard the word "shokken" (teachers) in the midst of a lot of Japanese from the teacher who played the role of Head of Ceremonies from behind the microphone.

After (and sometimes in between) the speeches, there were several times of singing. The graduating 3rd years sang to the 1st and 2nd years. Everyone sang to the 3rd years. The 1st and 2nd years sang to the 3rd years. In short, it was a lot of singing. Still, I rather liked this aspect of the ceremony, as the songs had special messages (I was told later) to the group to whom it was being sung. The songs from the 3rd years were full of thanks and good memories, while those sung to the 3rd years by the younger students and by the ceremony attenders at large were ones of well wishes and thoughts of the future. It had a good feeling about it, even if I didn't understand the words.

At long last, the graduating students left the gym as they had entered it, in lines of boy-girl pairs, the main differences being the presence of flowers in hands and tears in eyes. The 3rd years went back to their classrooms and gathered their things while those attending the graduation lined the walk to the front gates. They exited the school in ceremony, with cheers and clapping from their onlookers, finally leaving behind junior high forever...

...only to return most every day they could thereafter. :)

I gave out 5 presents to some of my favorite students: my four speech contest girls, and one other. She should have been in a special education class, but, because that is quite the black mark here even after school, she instead stayed in the normal class and fought through both the difficulty of the classes and the teasing of her classmates. While her English was at a level lower than that of any junior high school student, she tried so hard in class to do my games that I felt she deserved a little special attention.

All in all, it was a good experience, though I will say that I'm glad it's something I only have to go through once a year. (Speeches rarely grab my interest, especially when there's a rather tall language barrier involved.) I already miss my wonderful 3rd years...

Witty Title Here

Yojimbo: A Samurai Classic

Emails and Etiquette

New Year's Resolution

Strange dreams

Work Ethic

Read on, true believers!

:Still Alice:

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye...

An Update

A Reappropriation

The Art of Leaving

Catching Up

On Bullying

My name is Leslie, and I love karaoke.

Reverse Culture Shock

Walks in the Evening

Things About Japan: Cleaning

Things About Japan: Time

Tea Ceremony

The Swine Flu

Things About Japan: Photos

Things About Japan: Souvenirs

Final Impressions of Hong Kong

English and Japanese, At It Again.

My Very Busy Day (part 2)

My Very Busy Day (part 1)

North Korea and Other Difficulties

"It's a hug, man. A hug."

Cutting Japanese Men Down to Size

Office Politics and The Big Switch

100th Post!

Dinner with the Saitos

The Snack Bar

A Failed Trip

Travels with Parents

Things About Japan: Bathrooms

Vision Test

Traveling with the Teachers

Culture Backlash

Things about Japan: Enkai and Staff Trips

Things About Japan: Individualism

Ganbarimashou.

Travels with hannah V

Things about Japan: Brushing Teeth

"Call me!"

Travels with hannah IV

Things about Japan: Mayonnaise, Corn, and Tabasco Sauce

Stories from the Staff Room

Travels with hannah III

Cute and Frightening

Travels with hannah II

Travels with hannah I

Top 10 Questions

Lasting Impressions

Korea, part five - Things About Korea

Korea, part four - Jeju Island

空風

Things About Japan: Juku and School

Korea, part three - Gyeong-ju

Things about Japan: Face masks

Korea, part two - The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ)

Korea, part one - Arrival in Korea and Seoul

Things About Japan

A Contradiction

あけましておめでとうございます！

Let Them Speak Slang!

We interrupt to bring you this important message.

Here's to You.

Ol' Man Winter

Getting Dressed (and What It Does)

The Election as Seen from Japan

Ye Aforementioned Video

How Japan is Green

Chorus Contest v2.0

Gunma Prefecture Day

"Shotgun Wedding"

Taiwan

Catching Up

An Alien by All Accounts