So this is Christmas.

I've always struggled with the saying "Jesus is the reason for the season." Many years ago I heard that the early church appropriated a winter pagan holiday and renamed it Christmas so that Christians wouldn't feel badly about celebrating alongside their neighbors or so that those neighbors might become Christians. I've heard sermons preached that explained how Jesus had to have been born on December 25 as well as how He couldn't have been born on December 25, let alone in winter. And I don't think it's unfair to say that the commercialization of the holiday has distorted the remembrance of Jesus' birth in the collective American Christmas experience, even that of Christians. So since I've never found a Scripture that mandates an annual birthday party for Jesus and I remember His birth (and, more importantly, His life, death, and resurrection) on a more-than-once-a-year basis, I've always viewed Christmas as a holiday to be spent enjoying time with my family. Thus, when it became apparent back in November that I was going to be in Japan for Christmas, I didn't have much optimism for how my first Christmas away from family would be... especially once I learned more about the Japanese celebration of Christmas.

One of the things I am most passionate about is learning about other people's languages, cultures, and histories. So my ethnocentrism level is typically very low. As two very minor yet related examples, when I learned that some German families hang a pickle ornament on their Christmas trees, I found this to be intriguing rather than weird. And I really want to know what Christmas is like in the Land Down Under, since Aussies celebrate Christmas in a season when there's not even the slightest chance for snow. (Does Santa wear a tank top, Bermuda shorts, and flip flops?) But when I heard about Christmas in Japan I became saddened, for Christmas here, though it has an appearance that is familiar to me, is substantially different. (Yes, I know why that is. No, knowing why didn't help me think more charitably toward Christmas in Japan.) Christmas lights decorated the station road. A few of my students had Christmas trees in their homes. And Christmas music played rabidly in the stores. But Japanese Christmas is a kind of Sadie Hawkins' Dance/MORP holiday in which women ask men out on dates before they head to KFC (no lie) for dinner. So can you see how I was having difficulty getting into my kind of Christmas spirit, even though I knew I wouldn't be spending it alone? (For an even more detailed posting about Christmas in Japan, see Kelly Osato's Christmas 2008 blog post.)

Thankfully, my actual Christmas celebration turned out to be far better than my imaginings had led me to fear it might be. I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with eight other Japanese and North Americans at the missionaries' house. On Christmas Eve, we enjoyed each others' company over yummy snacks while talking about anything and everything and watching White Christmas, although I can honestly say I have never seen that movie since I fell asleep as it was starting. On Christmas Day we ate a German-style breakfast, opened stockings, exchanged gifts, played all kinds of games, listened to Christmas music, shared in cleaning responsibilities (even the guys!), had an amazing Christmas dinner, and ran out of hot water, which reminded me of so many family holidays when something would go wrong with the house. So while I was sad to be away from my family during the Christmas holidays, I am so happy that I had an amazing Christmas with great friends here in Japan. If this next school year is my last year to be in Japan, I most likely won't go home for Christmas 2011 since I'll be returning to the States just three months later. But I won't dread that since I know now that I can have a wonderful Christmas here in Japan.

Until next time...

Kombini and The Boy Who Lived

Like in U.S. convenience stores, at a Japanese kombini one can purchase snacks, drinks, meals, magazines, and all sorts of last-minute needs such as hosiery, medicines, etc. (The only thing one can't purchase at a kombini is gas, as apparently gas stations and kombini can't play nicely together over here. One can't buy kombini items at a gas station either.) But I don't know of any convenience store in the U.S. where one can pay utility bills as one can at a kombini. And this weekend, I discovered the most remarkable thing about kombini -- I can reserve purchases at online retailers such as Amazon Japan and indicate that I will pay for the purchase at the kombini of my choosing rather than enter my credit card information online. Then, once the online retailer receives notification from the kombini that I've made my payment, my order can be shipped to the kombini for me to pick up so that I don't have to play the failure-to-deliver game with the delivery company / postal service.

Having had limited baggage allowances for my move here in April, I was able to pack only three books, two of which are Bible study books rather than fiction novels. And as an avid reader, I've been feeling very bereft without something to read at night. So perhaps you can imagine what my first Amazon Japan purchase was. And for those who know me well, maybe you know exactly which books I ordered -- the complete works of Harry Potter. My apartment started to feel a little more homey tonight once the boxed set of The Boy Who Lived was sitting on my bookshelf. Sadly, there's not enough time to get them all read before I see movie 7a with friends in two weekends. But I will certainly do my best (ganbatte)!

Until next time...

Being a Christian in Japan

At the spring retreat for the foreigner population at my church, our minister shared with us that Japan is a nation of approximately 127 million people. Of that 127 million people, only one million people are considered to be Christian, with Catholicism and Protestantism evenly represented at around 500,000 followers each. Doing the math, you can see that fewer than 1% of the country's population is Christian. And of that one million person Christian population, only 1,000 or so are on the same branch of the church tree as I. And those 1,000 people are distributed over approximately 60 churches served by 30 to 40 ministers. So when I had the opportunity to go last week with some members of my church to a small church about 90 minutes away from where I live, I was eager to go, as I wanted to see what it is like for these Christians to worship together on Sundays.

During the drive to this small church, I learned that it has three members - a husband and wife and another man. During the drive back from the church, I asked the minister and missionary how these three people receive teaching on Sunday mornings. Do they take turns sharing something they've learned from Scripture? I was told that different churches from our prefecture will take turns visiting this church once a month to encourage them. However, often it is only the minister from these other churches who visits. During the other Sundays of the month, the members will gather to sing together, take communion together, and listen to sermons on tape. It was fear of this very thing that caused me to not come to Japan all those years ago. I was afraid I would find myself living in a town with either no church or such a small church and that my faith would be negatively effected. And so I was struck by how blessed I am now to be in the city where I live, for I worship at the second largest church of my denomination in Japan.

To be a Japanese Christian is not an easy path to follow. Often a Japanese Christian is the only member of his or her family who is Christian. So sometimes family members are hostile toward him or her because of his or her faith that isn't keeping in line with the family values. And Japanese Christians may get blamed for any calamity that befalls the family, whether a logical connection can be made or not. So many Japanese Christians are secret Christians,  from their friends and neighbors and sometimes even their own family members.

I was amazed that the three Japanese members of this church have been able to remain faithful in a country where so many people have no faith or have lost faith. While I don't know how large their church was at its peak, as recently as last year it had five members. So their church is dying, which also is the norm in Japan. It astonishes me that the married couple goes to a church building on Sundays when they could just as easily worship together at home. I can only imagine that the Japanese collectivist tendency (focus on the group rather than on the individual) and/or compassion for the one man are what prompt them to leave their home each Sunday. And I imagine that for the one man, the time he spends with this couple each week is crucial to helping him maintain his faith, for if he has a family, it doesn't appear that they are believers.

I've tried to end this post a few different ways; but I'm having difficulty writing exactly what I want to say. So I'll just say this. Whether you are a Christian in a small or large church, please give thanks to God for the physical and spiritual blessings present in your church, lean on Him to help you strengthen your faith, and pursue meaningful relationships with your brothers and sisters in Christ.

Until next time...

Are you sure this is Africa?

Did you know that when you step foot in an embassy technically you're stepping foot on the soil of that country? Well, when one of my AET friends, A.T., who is Ethiopian-American, invited me a few weeks ago to attend a Japanese-Ethiopian culture night celebration with him and his wife at the Ethiopian embassy, I was more than ready to go. I wouldn't get a stamp in my passport for walking through the doors. And the scenery would look a whole lot more like Tokyo than Addis Ababa. But I'd be attending a state party in Ethiopia!

When yesterday arrived for our 12-member party to travel for the event, we had to make the decision of whether or not to go due to an incoming typhoon. Many of us would have preferred to stay home. But A.T. was so excited to share his country's food, music, and dancing with us that none of us could tell him no. So we piled into two vehicles and took off for Tokyo at 1pm Africa time, which means that while we were supposed to leave at 1pm, we actually left at 2pm. Unfortunately, that late departure was an unknown-at-the-time foreshadowing of how our travel to the party would go, for when we finally arrived at a metered parking lot that was as close as we could get to the embassy, A.T. told us that the party wasn't at the embassy at all but at another location instead. After another hour of cell-phone-GPS consulting, hailing a cab whose driver couldn't find the building, and pulling one of two Ethiopian guys who were walking on the street into said cab to lead us to our destination, we arrived completely frustrated. But thankfully the event was very enjoyable and most of us were able to forget about the stress of our travel during the course of the evening.

The event was attended mainly by Japanese people, naturally. However, there were several Ethiopian expatriates at the party. And A.T. introduced our group to the ambassador from Ethiopia. Unfortunately, I only got to see him rather than meet him.

The Ethiopian food that we ate was good but very spicy. Having become accustomed to much milder food this past six months, I don't know if I would have found the food to be so spicy if my U.S. palate were still intact. But my mouth was on fire with just a few bites and I was unable to finish my meal.

The Japanese dancers doing both traditional Japanese as well as traditional Ethiopian dances were quite good. But the best part of the evening was when the people attending the party were invited to join in with the dancing.

H.V. and N.N. dancing on the sidelines, although H.V. earlier in the evening had been one of the people to get up and perform with the dancers.

Ethiopian dancing heavily involves moving the shoulders, which the two Ethiopians in this picture were able to do quite well. J.M. couldn't quite manage the shoulders, although he would have been more than happy to show us the hips-driven Latin dances that he learned while growing up in Honduras.

I never made it to Africa last night. So I guess I'll just have to go at some point in the future. But at one of the traffic lights on the way home, I saw what is surely the world's smallest liquor store (and its bored-looking employee). If I'd wanted to lie down on the floor to measure the store's width, I would have touched the exterior wall with my head and the interior wall with my feet. (Please don't fail to notice the store's name.) When you live and work in a city as crowded as Tokyo, you make the most of every square inch.

Until next time...

Agape Ministry

The foreigner population at church has been studying the Gospel of Mark since the beginning of September. In our study each week, we read through one chapter eight times and reflect on that day's reading using the lens of a different question, e.g., Where did Jesus go?, What did Jesus do?, What did Jesus see?, etc. Along with independent reading and small group discussion each week, we also have a discipleship challenge to correlate with something from that week's reading that was particularly noteworthy. For this week's challenge, my discipleship group decided that we would help with the Agape Ministry at church.

Once a month, some members of my church join with some members of the Catholic church to serve curry and a short Bible message to the homeless of the city. I don't know why the homeless in the city are homeless, since Japanese families typically live multi-generationally under one roof. And I don't know the ministry's long-term goal regarding the homeless of the city. But I'm very glad that my group decided that we wanted to help with the short-term goal of meeting physical needs this week. It was rather awkward, since I can't speak Japanese, to work alongside strangers (especially when it came time to introduce ourselves and I was the first non-Catholic in the serving line to do so and didn't know how to say anything other than my name, which none of them had been saying!). And when I reflect on the fact that Jesus not only gave food to the hungry but actually ate with them, I feel that my curry-dishing skills weren't enough. But after living here for almost six months, I've come to expect that I will have numerous awkward encounters and that I won't be able to do what I'd like to do as a result of the communication barrier. Regardless, partnering with members of the Catholic church, when there often is still religious tension between Catholics and Protestants in the U.S., in order to show love in the name of Jesus, was a wonderful experience. I hope to be able to be involved in this ministry on a regular basis.

Until next time...

Park Week

You know how the Discovery Channel hosts "Shark Week" every year in July or August? Well, Japan must host "Park Week" every year in October, for I've been to three different parks with three different groups on three different occasions this past week. And outside of going to the park where my brother played his baseball games every summer when we were growing up, I can't remember ever going to a park three times in one year, let alone in one week.

For those of you familiar with Let's Start Talking (LST), my church here in Japan has begun this year's English Bible Class (EBC), which is similar to LST. For those of you unfamiliar with LST, it's an organization that equips Christians to go into non-English speaking parts of the world to teach English by using the Bible. EBC has met twice thus far, and will continue to meet twice a month through March. I'm so excited to be able to do the EBC program, since I had such great experiences with my readers when I did LST in Japan during that summer after college graduation. But EBC experiences are for a different post. So let's get back to "Park Week".

On Saturday, approximately 40 people went to the seaside park that I wrote about being unable to visit back in May. The group was a mixture of EBC teachers (who are many, but not all, of us AETs), EBC readers, church members, and friends from our schools. The park is beautiful; and we spent four hours there, roaming around to look at the autumn foliage, having obento (the Japanese version of a brown bag lunch), and enjoying each other's company.

I tried my first chestnut at this park. The first bite was unremarkable. The second and third bites tasted like roast beef. And the rest of it was once again unremarkable. I assumed that a chestnut was something like an acorn, since you roast them over an open fire at Christmas and the drawings that I've seen of them since arriving here make them look like that. But did you know that a chestnut's exterior looks like a super spiky, bright green kiwi? And why in the world would it taste like roast beef? (Now I could really go for some Cracker Barrel.)

**On Tuesday, I joined my third graders for a trip to Kasama, the (un-)official (?) ceramics capital of Japan. (Not all AETs are allowed to go on field trips with their students, so shhh!) There we had the opportunity to make a cup or a plate, visit a ceramics museum, eat obento in a park that had cooler artwork than the museum, and play on the most amazing playground I've ever seen. But the word "playground" doesn't do it justice. The slides are amazingly huge - think a couple stories tall and a hundred or more feet long - and are connected to a decking system with numerous play stations shooting off from it that most definitely required an engineering degree to design. (My seven-year-old nephew would love this park!) Unfortunately, I was too busy having fun sliding to take pictures from my ride on it.

**At the bottom of the second slide, shortly before I took this photo, I was caught in a pile up with a bunch of students and teachers from my school as well as from other schools. After trudging up the huge hill two times, my first time to slide to slide became my last time to slide.

**This air dome is WAY more fun than a trampoline, although one of the many rules for using it is don't jump on it. (What else is it meant to be used for? And what kid can resist jumping on an air mountain?) I was asked by one of the students to play on the dome with her. But I thought I was too big or old, take your pick, and was noncommittal. Later, when I saw how much fun they were having, I decided that I could be a big kid at heart and play on it with them. I'm so glad I did, since they told their teacher that I'm so fun!

**This zip line looked like it was a blast for the kids to ride. So after watching them on it for several minutes, I decided to give it a try. Only, it wasn't as fun for me as the slide or the air dome since my legs are so long that they dragged along the ground and slowed me down.

On Wednesday, I arrived at my one-day-a-week kindergarten and was surprised once again with that day's plans - no English classes and a trip to a park. I'd been told we'd walk to the park because it was close. But once we arrived at the park, I can't believe we dared to undertake the mile- or two-mile-long trek with close to 100 four- and five-year olds, even with ten moms to help with the outing. (There's no way that would be allowed in an American school.) But the amazing thing was that not one of the kids complained or got hurt on the way there or back. Once at the park, we spent the next two or three hours sliding down the hill on cardboard boxes. (So fun!) Since I'd expected to teach English that day, I didn't have my camera with me as I'd had at the other two parks. But suffice it to say that from the top of the hill, where I spent much of my time as a pusher, it looked like I was bowling with kindergartners!

Japan is a beautiful country; and now that the life-sapping heat and humidity of summer are gone, I hope to be able to enjoy more of it's scenery.

Until next time...

**UPDATE (11/22/10): Photographs containing school children have been removed per the instruction of the teachers' consultant.

Almost Famous?

Today I went to McDonald's for breakfast before school. As the cashier was placing my iced coffee on my tray, she said, "Rebecca?" I've never met this person in my life; so I was a little taken aback that she somehow knew my name. (This is a cash society. There's no such thing as a debit card. So she didn't get my name off of anything that I gave her.) When I confirmed that, indeed, I am Rebecca, she told me that she is the mother of one of the elementary school students whom I teach. After having another one of my students tell me that his mother delivered a package from my mother to my school several months ago and then they discussed it over the dinner table, I guess I should have remembered that being a gaijin (foreigner) in a small town in a homogeneous country like Japan doesn't allow for anonymity. Maybe the next time I venture out I should take a tip from Ke$ha.


Until next time...

Really, Pam? Really?

Pam Jones, Bridget's mother in the movie Bridget Jones's Diary, when talking about Mark Darcy's Japanese ex-wife, calls her a member of a "cruel race". While this likely is done for plot and/or comedic purpose, it may also be a commentary by the screenwriters about Japan's aggression in China and the Pacific before and during World War II. While some nations feel that the government of Japan still owes amends for its war crimes (a topic that is not the focus of this post or this blog), in my trips to Japan, I've found the people of Japan to be anything but cruel.

As mentioned in a previous post, on the first day that I went to my one-day-a-week kindergarten, I was unaware that I needed to pack a lunch since I eat kyuushoku (school lunch) with the students at my main school. Upon learning that I had no lunch, the jimuin (teacher's room manager) left school in cats-and-dogs rain to buy me something to eat and then wouldn't allow me to repay her. 

During my first month or two of being here, I needed to see a bank teller to handle a transaction since my bank card had not yet arrived. So T.-sensei, my jimuin, took me to the bank one day after lunch. As we were walking into the bank, I smelled the most heavenly scent coming from the bakery just across the street. And as we were walking out of the bank, I told T.-sensei that I would like to go into the bakery to see what smelled so wonderful. While I was looking at the cases trying to decide if I wanted anything, T.-sensei was making a purchase of six madeleines, yummy French pastries, that she then proceeded to give to me, for they had been the source of the wonderful smell.

In working to transfer N.P.'s scooter into my name, I asked several other AETs for assistance. Some of the AETs were kind enough to help me directly. But others said, "Talk to...." And when I would talk to..., he or she would say, "Talk to..." and before I knew it I was circled back around to the first person with whom I'd spoken. It was frustrating since I had no idea what I needed to do and felt that the scooter experts in the group were passing the buck. But when I told K.-sensei, my school nurse, about one of the questions for which I needed help, she and N.-sensei, the jimuho (handyman / groundskeeper), spent an hour online searching for the scooter's model number so that I could fill out the change of ownership paperwork.

My nephew's seventh birthday is this weekend. And I searched many stores here and in Tokyo over the course of several weeks in order to find just the right gift. The special education teacher called a couple different stores to ask if they had the items for which I was searching so that I wouldn't have to traipse all over the city once again. And when the one item that would complete the gift remained elusive, K.-sensei said that she would keep her eyes open for it. I told her to not worry about it, since I knew that it meant she would make a special trip to find that item. As anticipated, when I arrived at work the next day, not only had she found that elusive item but she'd also found several extra-special bonus items and wouldn't accept money for any of it.

I find the Japanese people to be more Christ-like in their actions than many Christians I've met, including myself. And it's not just the people at school who know me who've been so kind. They think of others before they think of themselves. They apologize for things that they personally did not do (e.g., attack at Pearl Harbor). And they go out of their way to help a person in need. In my experience, Pam Jones doesn't know what she's talking about.

Lessons learned on Guam

I spent most of the first week of August on Guam with three other English teachers for our use-them-or-lose-them five days of tokkyu (summer vacation). We flew out of Japan on Sunday's red-eye and flew into Japan on Friday's first flight out and packed all of our waking hours in between with sight-seeing, shopping, and stuffing our faces with American food. Although the trip wasn't a cheap one, I am proud to say that I was able to eat for four days at just around $100, thanks to splitting every meal but breakfast with my friend, H.V. (I highly recommend the California Club pizza at California Pizza Kitchen. But I strongly advise you to stay away from the CPK Cobb Salad. It's way too rich.)

Guam is an American territory that sits closer to Japan (three-hour flight) than it does to the United States (eight-hour flight to Hawaii). As a result, 75% of its tourism is comprised of East Asians (historically Japanese but increasingly South Koreans and Chinese); and the Japanese written language can be seen alongside its English equivalent on restaurant menus and mall directories and the spoken language heard just as frequently if not more predominately than English. Its interesting history has resulted in a blend of Chamorro (native), Spanish, Asian, and American family and location names. But rather than write a post that is a history lesson, I'll let you read more about that here and here. Guam has beautiful scenery; and I took too many pictures to post on this blog. So please click here if you'd like to see some of the views I saw while there. Instead, I'll use this post to enumerate lessons I learned/opinions I developed while on Guam:

1. Diet Coke really doesn't taste good and should never become an acquired taste.
2. The world's largest Kmart, while very nice, can't be all that boastful if it carries only two George Clooney movies (one of which is Return of the Killer Tomatoes!) and no York Peppermint Patties.
3. Stomachs shrink after living in Japan; and American restaurant portion sizes are sickeningly huge.
4. Omiyage, the Japanese art of gift giving to honor relationships, is a racket designed by Japanese companies to keep themselves in business.
5. Liev Schreiber almost wins the award for the perfect villain's voice. Sadly for him but happily for us, he's beaten out by Alan Rickman.
6. Touring World War II battle and memorial sites with Japanese people is somewhat awkward, even though the war is most probably the fault of neither of us.
7. Americans are very loud and need to be more discreet about or, even better, not discuss at all their spouse's reproductive problems and their "bastard child(ren) in the Philippines" over Chili's chips and salsa.

Until next time...

Teachers' Trip Activities

On the last Saturday of July, approximately 20 teachers and I went on the annual teachers' trip that occurs at the end of each summer term. We met at the school at 7:00am for the bus ride to Tokyo and returned at 8:30pm. I was uncertain about what to expect, since many other AETs have talked about their schools' party committees renting buses stocked with alcohol and some of their teachers embarrassing themselves and others when they over-indulge in beer, wine, and cocktails. But as I have been discovering with each enkai that I attend, the teachers at my school enjoy alcoholic beverages responsibly. Perhaps this is due to the influence of my school's administrators or party committee, I don't know. But it's a huge relief for me, nevertheless.

Upon arriving in Tokyo, we immediately went to the Nippon Television Network to see a clock weighing 28 tons, standing 36 feet tall, and measuring 54 feet wide. It was designed by Hayao Miyazaki, the man who runs Studio Ghibli, an animation house which created the recent Ponyo and the Oscar-winning Spirited Away. For fifty-five minutes of every hour, the clock is a regular, albeit steampunk-looking, clock. However, at five minutes to the hour during a certain window every day, the clock begins its magic, as seen in the clip below.



After watching the clock, we went to lunch at a restaurant in the Keio Plaza Hotel, an upscale hotel in Tokyo's Shinjuku ward. The meal was served buffet-style. But if you're picturing Golden Corral, you're doing an injustice to this restaurant. Yes, a salad bar and carved roast beef were provided. Would a buffet be complete without them? But picture also main dishes such as black spaghetti (which gets its color from squid ink) tossed with Genoan ham, green peas, and pesto sauce and Japanese beef curry served with rice; an assortment of gourmet cheeses; steamed whole shrimp and other Japanese seafood selections; white wine jelly (gelatin), a variety of small cakes, and vanilla or pumpkin ice cream for dessert. As I can never eat my money's worth at an American buffet, there's absolutely no way that I ate my money's worth at this buffet!

Had I known when I said I would go on the teachers' trip that the main event of the day was watching comedians rather than watching the filming of a Japanese game show, which is what I originally thought we would be doing, I wouldn't have gone on the trip since I was also leaving for Guam the next day and could have used that time to finish preparing for the trip. As it was, while the teachers watched the comedians, I fruitlessly searched all the shopping centers in the area (There were at least four in a one-square-mile area.) for a certain gift for my nephew. However, my principal was impressed with the fact that I came on the trip. So since he's the one who can make or break my future employment with this program and I did enjoy the time I spent with the teachers on the bus and at lunch, the trip was ultimately worthwhile.

Until next time...

Training can be fun!

Although summer vacation began for students last week, as mentioned in my last post, teachers don't get off for the summer break and are required to be at school, to attend seminars, and (for some) to assist with AET training (unless they are taking a one-day vacation, that is) during the six-week break. That is where I have been this past week -- in AET training. Having arrived in Japan just three and a half months ago and having sat through rookie training during that first week we were here, I didn't know what to expect with this summer's team training. I was afraid it was going to be a rehash of what we'd gone through in April, and while I was so jet-lagged that I don't remember the vast majority of what was shared with us during that first week, I wasn't looking forward to hearing it all again. But as I found out this week, when done right, training can actually be fun! Rather than bore you with all the details of what we did this week, I'll just share the highlights.

Every morning began with a game led by our self-monikered Wolf Pack (activities) leaders, B.W. and D.L. On Monday we played the game Take a Hike. In this game one person stands in the middle of a circle of people sitting in chairs; and there are enough chairs for everyone in the game minus one so that there is always a person left to stand in the middle. The person in the middle then says "Take a hike if..." and then all the people who can agree with that statement must get up and move chairs. Some of the best comments that caused people to change chairs included, "Take a hike if your home room teacher has ever fallen asleep in class." and "Take a hike if you've ever kanchoed a student."

Thursday had each of us writing a question on a slip of paper and then putting that paper into a hat. We each drew another question from the hat and answered it on a different piece of paper before putting the paper with the answer back into the hat. Then we drew an answer from the hat and matched it with the question we had held onto. The most hilarious question/answer was read by H.W., a female AET. "What would you do if women were the dominant sex?" "I'd cry and take off my shirt." Who knows what question that answer was really responding to!

In Friday's game, we each got a half piece of paper on which we were to write a statement. We passed the paper to another person who then drew a picture to match that statement. Before the person passed the paper to a third person, he/she folded the paper so that the original statement couldn't be seen; and the third person had to write a statement based on the picture. Then the fourth person, who couldn't see either the original statement or picture, had to draw a picture based on the most recent statement. I think we got about five or six people deep in our sentence-picture-sentence game before we were told to stop. By far the funniest sentence progression was, "I like babies with chubby cheeks." "I love barbecues!"

As part of our training discussions, we watched a couple episodes of the late-70s British TV show, "Mind Your Language," which is a series about a man who teaches English as a second language to adult students who've immigrated to the U.K. It's quite politically incorrect for the 21st Century. However, the attitudes, words, and actions of the characters in the show still can be found in the world today; so the clips were relevant for us to watch. We compared and contrasted the teacher's classroom behaviors and school relationships with those of our own. A clip of the show is provided below. Would you want these people to be your teacher and administrator?

After four days of job training, we ended on Friday with a fun Japanese cultural day and learned how to make California sushi rolls and fold origami at the International Center. Given that professional sushi chefs receive training for 10 years and still don't consider themselves to be masters, making sushi wasn't as daunting as I thought it would be. And it was quite fun! I don't know how frequently I'll make it on my own; but I'm glad to know how.

I'd spent a lot of time telling the others how to roll and cut their sushi, as I had been directly behind the instructor while she demonstrated how to assemble the ingredients of nori (seaweed), rice, avocado, imitation crab, and cucumber and they hadn't been able to see her actions from where they were standing. When it came my turn to make a California roll, I was afraid that I would prove myself to be all talk and no action. But my roll came together quite well, I'm proud to say.

The meal was served family style; and 24 of us AETs prepared sushi. So there's no telling if I ever got to try the roll that I made.

The shrimp, fish, egg, and tuna salad was do-it-yourself sushi that could be wrapped in lettuce leaves, nori, or the dark green leaves that are native to Thailand.

The instructors made the orange gelatin for us. They juiced the oranges and used powdered seaweed as the gelatin and then allowed them to set in the halved orange rinds before cutting each half into thirds before serving. They were quite good and didn't have a seaweed taste to them at all.

Until next time...

Even the kids get their own festivals in Japan.

In a country where the average teacher is expected to work six (or seven) days at 60+ hours each week and is rarely allowed to take consecutive days of nenkyuu (vacation) during the six-week break between the summer and fall terms, it's understandable that the teachers from my school weren't all that excited about assisting the PTA with the end-of-term festival that was held this past weekend. However, they recognize that the students have a lot of fun. And as Japanese teachers tend to be very committed to their students (Why else would a Japanese person want to become a teacher with those kinds of time expectations?), after having put in their 60+ hours during the previous week they worked an additional four to 16+ hours to help prepare for and host Sunday's festival. As for me, I miss my students and wanted the comp time so that I can have one work day this summer to take my driving test without having to use any of my nenkyuu days. So I worked the festival as well.

**The area festival was open not only to the kids (and their families) who attend the school but also to the surrounding neighborhood. In many ways, it was like a New York City street festival that one might see in the movies (You've Got Mail anyone?), albeit on the dirt field/playground behind the school building. There were ring toss games, cheap toys for purchase, food stands, a performance stage, etc. But then there were other things that I was somewhat surprised to see at a school event -- beer flowing freely, old women performing Hawaiian and Hokkaido dances, fireworks progressing from tamer Roman Candles to rapid-fire shells that arced across the sky. But one of the coolest things to see were so many of my female students wearing yukata, or summer-weight kimono. A traditional female yukata, as my teachers told me, would have had flowers or fish printed on it and been blue. A traditional male yukata would have contained geometric patterns such as stripes or squares and been blue, black, or white. Modern-day women's yukata come in many colors and patterns, including the ubiquitous Hello Kitty. The students above wore contemporary shoes with their yukata; but a few came in traditional geta. (See this article for more information about the geta.) Very few of my male students wore yukata, which wasn't surprising.

**A couple different variations of snow cones were sold. (They weren't on cones but rather were in cups or bowls.) And popcorn (my booth), pizza, hashed browns, cotton candy, and grilled marshmallows rounded out the more American-like food options, although the pizza had corn as a topping and the grilled marshmallows were allowed only to get sticky rather than brown. But traditional fare like okonomiyaki (Japanese pancakes), yakisoba (fried noodles prepared with vegetables and often meat), and Gohei-mochi was also available. I didn't try the Japanese pancakes, as there's a really good okonomiyaki restaurant near my apartment that I want to try first. And I've eaten yakisoba many times before. But having never heard of let alone eaten Gohei-mochi, I decided to try it. 

According to Japanese tradition (and Wikipedia), mochi is made by rabbits who live on the moon. To make mochi, Japanese rice is pounded into a paste and then is formed into whatever shape is desired. It's usually fairly tasteless (by Western standards) and is so sticky that many non-Japanese people have to learn to like it or never learn to like it because it's so difficult to swallow. I don't know if Gohei-mochi is made by lunar bunnies as well, but it looks and tastes different. Hot rice is rolled into a ball in the palm of the preparer's hand and is then wrapped and pressed around two joined chopsticks, sort of like a popsicle. The rice popsicle is chilled and then dipped into a sauce containing soy sauce, sesame oil, sake, walnut paste, and another ingredient that escapes me before being grilled to be served. It was quite yummy; and I ended up eating two.

I can't remember having any events like this when I was in elementary school, other than field day. So while the teacher who took me home at the end of the day thought that it was a lot of work (which for the Japanese teachers it was more work than for me), I found the festival to be really enjoyable. I liked working alongside the teachers in a non-classroom setting. Seeing the students and their reactions when they didn't expect to see me at their festival was quite fun. Watching them show off their extracurricular skills in band, taiko (traditional Japanese drumming), and drill team allowed me to see a side of them that I don't get to see when they're in English class or get to ask about during lunch since I don't speak Japanese. And making the connections between siblings that I hadn't yet made was great as well.

Until next time...

**UPDATE (11/22/10): Photographs depicting school children and faculty/staff have been removed per the instruction of the teachers' consultant.

Who's that smell?

Scent is one of the easiest ways to trigger memories. I'm sure evolutionary biologists explain it as how the brain developed during our progression from apes to humans; and scent and memories are connected to that primitive part of our brain. But as I don't buy that (the macro-evolutionary apes-becoming-humans idea, that is; the scent-memory connection is true), I just recognize it to be true and figure out how to make it work for me. So with each place I travel outside of the States, I try to find a new scent to connect me with that location's memories. Sun-Ripened Raspberry will forever remind me of France. Cucumber Melon takes me back to my two trips to China (but is now on the permanent DL in the line-up of acceptable scents to use as my memories of China are not very good). And Sweet Pea transports me back to Honduras.

After Bath & Body Works retired Sun-Ripened Raspberry, my favorite scent from BBW became Japanese Cherry Blossom. So imagine how fortuitous I felt it was when I was hired to teach English in Japan. I didn't have to find a new scent to use during my time here. During my first month of living in this country, I smelled clean and fruity when I arrived at school, at church, and even at home at the end of the day. (C.G. always knew when I arrived to our apartment building before she did, since she could smell JCB in the elevator.) But my JCB lotion supply ended. And while my mom replenished my supply, I decided to reserve it for seasons (or days) when I'm not going to have to bathe more than once daily as a result of sticky, gross weather. So I've settled for using a scentless lotion during the week and JCB only on Sundays. As a result, I don't smell as girly when I arrive at school as I would like. In fact, I smell like a little boy who's been playing outside. And that just doesn't sit well with me.

So imagine my joy when N.P. said I could have his scooter for free (minus the cost of any repairs a two-years-unused scooter might need to become operational again). I figured the $150 investment would be well spent so that I could start driving to school. Not only would I not have an hour-long commute every day but I also wouldn't get as sweaty-nasty and require four or more hours to dry out. So after getting my scooter licensed with basic insurance on Thursday, I went for my first ride last night. It was scarily exhilarating. (Those road bumps are felt more keenly when you're in the open air.) It was freeing. (Who likes being dependent on others for rides after they've been their own chauffeur for over 10 years?) And... it was stinky. Yes, the exhaust coming out of other vehicles' tail pipes was quite foul. But I noticed that I was stinky at the end of my ride, which I had not anticipated, never having so much as sat on a motorcycle or scooter until I arrived in Japan. So once I get permission from my vice-principal to drive to school, instead of wearing eau de sweaty boy upon my arrival, I'll be wearing eau de petrol -- NOT the scent-induced-memory of me that I would have liked to leave with my students!

Until next time...

One down, two to go

Today was the end of the first trimester of the 2010-11 school year. I had been looking forward to this day since mid-May, not because I don't enjoy teaching my students but because my schedule is such that I am exhausted all the time and had been anticipating the much-needed break. However, the realization came to me last week that not only does the summer break mean that I won't be teaching, although I still will have to go to school, but also that I won't see my students. (Some of you more experienced teachers out there may say that's a good thing. But if you'll just hear me out, you'll understand why it was so difficult to say goodbye.)

Last week as I was saying goodbye at the end of each English class, although I knew that we would all see each other today, it very much felt like a farewell since I knew that we all wouldn't be able to interact today. So when it came time for the students to line up at 11:30am today to head home for lunch after the closing ceremony and home room activities ended, I started to cry. At the time, I thought it was because there were some students whom I most likely would never see again - i.e., the two sets of Japanese-American siblings who'd been at school this summer while visiting their grandparents and the unrelated boy and girl who are moving to different cities. So I prayed God's protection on all of them this summer, whatever they may do or wherever they may go, as I was standing there waiting for them to leave and waving at them as they were waving at me. But later this afternoon, I realized that there was more to my sadness than just missing their cute faces over the next six weeks.

My adjustment to life in Japan hasn't been easy. I've been without car/scooter/bike for three months and have been dependent on public transportation and/or other people to get me around town, both of which have proved to not always be reliable. As such, it's been extremely difficult for me to connect physically with the other teachers in my group, since I've sometimes had to miss church or have not been invited to various activities due to my lack of wheels (or so I tell myself). As a result, I've consoled myself in the fact that while socially my life may be lacking here in Japan, vocationally I've been quite fulfilled, so much so that I've started to contemplate a career change for when I return to the U.S. So to not have that joy for the next six weeks left me feeling bereft.

The other experienced teachers tell me that students will be at school everyday this summer. Some of them, e.g., the prefecture's (nation's?) entire fourth grade population, will be doing summer school for math whereas others will just come to school to play with their friends. (Before moving here, I couldn't understand why kids would want to come to school during the summer. But now that I realize that many of them live in apartment buildings and that there isn't enough space for them to play, it makes sense.) And today I was informed about a neighborhood fair for my school's students that will occur this Sunday afternoon and evening at the school for which teachers are encouraged to work. So while I will not get into the habit that many Japanese teachers have of working seven days a week, I think I will work during half or all of the festival so that I can spend some more time with the kids.

Until next time...

Nemo is much more appealing in the sea

Tuesday is the closing ceremony for the summer term at school; and last night was the teachers' end-of-term enkai. My first enkai back in April, the welcome one for new teachers and the start of the school year, was a great experience socially and gustatorily. (For tales from my previous enkai see this post.) While I can say the same about the social aspects of last night's celebration, I cannot even begin to say the same about the evening's gustatory aspects. (I wanted to take pictures of last night's dishes; but I left my camera at home and then forgot to use my camera phone. So my apologies that I don't have pictures to speak my 1,000 words. But trust me when I say that last night's dishes would have been quite the sight for you to see.)

Socially, I had a good time. Our tables at the first party of the evening (just as last time, there were two parties - one in a hotel dining room and another at a restaurant) were assigned not by grade-level as they were at April's enkai but by matching the package of candy or gum that we drew out of a box with the identical package placed at one of four dining tables. So I ended up sitting with the third-grade teachers, one fourth-grade teacher, and the principal. What began as polite conversation about our summer vacation plans, what cuisines we enjoy, etc. ended with me getting asked about my dating life and perhaps my principal making a pass at me. I have no idea how it happened, as the conversation that had been occurring prior to that point in Japanese and I had stopped paying attention. But after I got drawn into a flow of conversation that is too long to write about came to a close, I think my principal asked me if I would get a Japanese boyfriend and then told me that he is single, which I later found out that he's not. What is it with older, married men making (possible) passes at me? You're not my target demographic! But I digress. Back to the events of the evening.

The entertainment during the meal was BINGO; and I had the opportunity to experience some of what my students feel when I play it with them in English class, since, of course, last night we played it in Japanese. (The students do have the advantage of having studied 1-10 since first grade, 1-20 since second grade, etc. However, once you know how to count from one to ten in Japanese, numbers from 11 to 99 aren't hard to figure out, e.g., eleven is said as ten-one, 20 is said as two-ten, 39 is said as three-ten-nine.... ) But I did get a BINGO and win a Hello Kitty toothbrush, though I was slightly envious of the ninja mask that one of the special education teachers won and the punching cat ballpoint pen that the principal won, since both would have been great gifts for my nephew.

Gustatorily, I had a horrible time. It was heavy on the seafood, which I already struggle with eating, having grown up in the land-locked state of Kansas. But the seafood from the first enkai was really good whereas from last night's enkai it was really bad. Strangely enough, once again I liked the sashimi. It was everything else, including the Beef-Wellington-esque course, that I wish I wouldn't have eaten, especially since between the first and second enkai the evening will have cost me around $70 when I pay my share of the first enkai at school next week. But I was adventurous in my eating, which impressed the teachers and administrators, since they know that I don't particularly care for seafood. So I'm glad that I made the effort to try the foods that they like, even if I didn't.

During the first meal, lying on top of a plastic green leaf in my cubed tuna and salmon sashimi bowl served with rice, ginger, seaweed, and some other shredded vegetable, were salmon eggs. (To give you a mental picture, if you don't know what a salmon egg looks like, think of slightly small peas that are pink instead of green.) I ate two of them since everyone had been watching me pick around my meal all evening. While I don't plan to eat them again, they weren't as fishy-tasting as I'd expected them to be, nor were they salty like caviar. But once bitten into, the liquid inside immediately dissipated into my mouth since they have no substance; so other than any possible omega-3 benefits, I don't know why someone would want to eat a salmon egg. Other food served during the first meal included raw and cooked shrimp with the heads and, therefore, eyeballs still attached; noodles made from puréed whitefish with sticky fishy-tasting sauce underneath; a gelatinous substance made from fish whose name sounds similar to the word "cognac"; and who knows what else that my mind is trying to forget. The only thing I liked from this first meal was the course with the three meatballs in tomato and vegetable sauce and the one-inch square of watermelon that came with the dessert course.

At the second meal, there was a salad that I was looking forward to eating, until I realized that mixed in with the daikon radish shreds were tiny, translucent white fish, whose backbones (or waste veins, not sure which) and eyeballs could be seen if examined closely enough. I ate one little white thing that may have been radish or fish, I'm not sure which, before giving my plate to the administrator sitting across from me to finish, since he proclaimed that it was very healthy. I was offered some raw oyster that I initially turned down and then tried despite my misgivings, since even the aforementioned administrator said he doesn't eat raw oyster. However, I don't have the hashi (chopsticks) skills that Japanese people have when it comes to cutting. So rather than getting a little piece of raw oyster to try, I pulled off a huge piece. It was without a doubt the most revolting thing I have ever tasted. Well, I take that back; it may not have been worse than the toilet-flavored liver that I ate several weeks ago. I couldn't chew it up and ended up having to swallow it whole, helped along by a generous gulp of Coca-Cola. Another "traditional" lettuce and tomato salad had seafood in it; and the piece of (raw? cooked?) octopus that was on my plate was crunchy and gross, which was nothing at all like the octopus that I tried at my last enkai. So when that same administrator offered me some fried squid tentacles that came from the tank just inside the restaurant doors, I turned them down. (On a side note, I pass by this restaurant every Wednesday during my walk to my once-weekly kindergarten. I've always wondered how the food tasted and what was in the tank. Be careful what you wish for, right?) The only thing from this meal that I liked was the french fries and the Coca-Cola.

Seventy dollars is a lot of money to drop on food, especially on food that isn't good. And while enkai attendance isn't required, I do like the camaraderie of the parties since I don't spend as much time with the teachers as they spend with each other due to their 12ish-hour work day expectations. So I most likely will go to the next enkai-like party in September after the school's sports festival. But as I hope to travel somewhere in December, and the end-of-term enkai will be held just a few days before Christmas, I highly doubt that I'll be present for that one. So here's to hoping for an enkai more like the first and less like the last. Kampai!

Until next time...

Japanese bakeries

As I mentioned in a previous post, Japanese bakeries could go head-to-head, or perhaps I should say bread-to-bread, with French bakeries and be a strong contender in the battle. For a country that consumes exorbitant quantities of rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (and regularly all three within the same 24-hour period), Japan (or at least the city in which I live) has a remarkable number of high-quality bakeries. And fortunately for me, there's a Dutch-named one right down the street next to the laundromat. I'd stopped in a couple previous occasions to buy something to snack on while drying my clothes; but doing so was as much for the ¥100 coins I hoped to get as change for the dryers as it was for the food itself. But when last Saturday K.H., a new friend from church who had stayed over the night before after our late return from The Hard Rock Cafe, and I ate at the bakery before going to the station for her to catch a train home, I discovered my new Saturday morning tradition - a leisurely breakfast/brunch with people-watching followed by Bible study.

In these two visits, I noticed that most people who frequent the bakery don't eat in, despite this being the rare bakery with a dining area. Judging by the amount of pastry and bread purchases they make, they must leave because they're a) taking things home to the family, b) making purchases to last them the weekend, or c) too embarrassed to let others see how much they're planning to eat. ;~) So today when I went for the second visit of my newly-found ritual, I was able to choose the best seat in the dining room with full view of the door and the shop while I enjoyed my cheese, ham, and onion tarts, berry cheesecake, and iced coffee. (I took a photo with my phone camera to show you what I was able to enjoy; but I can't get it off my phone without paying a high fee. So as soon as I get a USB cable to transfer the photo to my computer, I'll update this post with that photo as well as one of the shop itself. Or I'll just have to make another visit and take my real camera instead!)

My dad and his wife have a similar tradition - eating breakfast at the same restaurant each day for the past several years - and have been able to establish good relationships with the staff at the restaurant. And I found myself wishing that I possessed the spiritual gift of speaking in tongues so that I could not only tell them how delicious their food is but also so that I could get to know them. But since speaking in tongues is likely not a present-day spiritual gift and there's no urgent need for me to suddenly know another language like was present on the day of Pentecost, I guess I'll have to learn Japanese the hard way. And as Japanese is proving harder to learn than any other language I've studied, it's going to be some time before I'm able to say anything other than おいしい (oishii - yummy) to the staff.

Until next time...

UPDATE (7/10/10): As promised, a picture of the breakfast of champions, although this picture doesn't do justice to the meal's yummy goodness.

Below is a picture of the bakery itself. Although I don't know this to be true, I think that the bakery owner(s) may live above the store, since the upstairs level looks to be residential. I don't know if the woman who was at the register when I paid for my meal was the owner or just an employee. But she graciously told me that my Japanese was very good. If only that were true. I really wanted to talk with her, not that she had the time. The bakery was super busy today, which I hope means that they'll be around for quite a while!

Janie's Got a Gun?

Last week I discovered a new path between bus stops where I transfer from the bus that picks me up somewhat far from my apartment to the bus that takes me somewhat near to my school. In previous weeks, I'd seen people from my first bus pop out in different locations on the street where my second bus is located as they made their own bus transfers. So I decided to follow them and learn something new about this city. The first time I followed, I was able to do so unobtrusively, as there were several people walking the same back streets. The second time I followed, there were just two people (a man and a woman) and me on the back roads. The man looked back and spotted me; and he decided to continue on past the turning point from the back road to the bus stop that he unknowingly had showed me previously. And today, the third time I took this route and ended up following him, only this man and I were walking the back road. When he looked back and spotted me, I knew I must have spooked him since he immediately picked up his pace. When he decided to go out on to the main road via the road beside the McDonald's, all I could do was smile, especially since we met back up again not more than five minutes later on the main road.

Recently, another person whom I've met here in Japan told me a story about cultural proximity distances. (In case you don't know, notions of personal space differ from culture to culture.) This person said a Japanese person that he/she had been talking to thought that Americans' personal space was much greater than that of people from other cultures because all Americans carry guns and we never know when someone might shoot us. Now, I've been told that I'm intimidating to men. And while my friends who've told me this haven't elaborated on why they think this is so, I don't think they meant that I appear to be the type of woman who would shoot someone! So who knows why this guy is scared of me. But we'll see each other again on Thursday as we have seen each other every other non-Wednesday weekday. However, since walking the back roads doesn't really save any time over walking the main road, maybe for his comfort and my safety I'll stick with walking the main road.

Until next time...

すいょぅび (Suiyōbi - Wednesdays)

Wednesdays are my most dreaded day of the week, for they are the day I go to my one-day-a-week kindergarten. The kids and teachers generally are not the reason why I dread going to this school. However, they have been known to contribute to my dread, since these are the same kids who love to touch me in inappropriate places and the same teachers who forget to tell me about important activities like field trips. But the two reasons I don't like going to my Wednesday kindergarten are because it rains every single day I go there (Literally, there has not been one day when I've gone to that school when it's not rained during my commute. I've yet to arrive without being soaking wet.) and because something discouraging and unrelated to the rain always occurs.

I know that right now I'm somewhere in the midst of the "Everything is horrible" part of the culture stress adjustment curve and that one day I will progress to the "Everything is okay" part of the curve. But when every Wednesday brings something unexpected, it's difficult to believe the things-will-improve mantra that I tell myself. (No matter what I learned through my intercultural communication graduate study, knowledge and experience are two vastly different teachers. And while I wish that the former were a better teacher for me than the latter, that's not the case.) So in addition to soaking wet shoes and feeling violated every Wednesday, I encounter surprise field trips, didn't-you-know-that-today-is-teach-the-parents day, the obento (boxed lunch) for which I wasn't included...; and this past Wednesday was no different. Unfortunately, what came this past Wednesday on the way to school followed on the heels of two days of high-stress events. And I had my first "I hate Japan!" week since arriving. But then a few girls at school were super sweet, immediately giving me hugs as soon as they saw me. So Wednesday progressed somewhat better than it started, though Thursday was rough as I battled a headache all day and fell asleep at school, despite my every effort to stay awake. (This heat and humidity zaps all my energy before I even arrive at school.) The workweek ended with a drive to the outskirts of Tokyo last night for a birthday celebration with seven other English teachers at The Hard Rock Cafe. (Yes, we were on the road longer than we were in the restaurant.) And Saturday, although it started much too early, has begun with the delivery of a non-hobbit-sized refrigerator and a leisurely brunch at an amazing pastry shop within walking distance of my apartment and should end with good fellowship with one of the missionaries at the church.

While my posts haven't reflected anything good I've experienced since arriving in Japan, and I have experienced a few, things truly aren't as bad as they could be or perhaps as they seem. But blogging about my experiences helps me to cope with what happens. So when exciting or fun things start happening, I will be sure to share them as well.

Until next time...

UPDATE (7/1/10): I learned today that the kanji (Japanese character) for Wednesday means "water." How fitting, then, that it rains every Wednesday, including this past one. What else can the day's weather do but live up to the Japanese forefathers' expectations for it?

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

The ground shook today after church; and I don't think it was because of the Holy Spirit. Several other of the new AETs have said that they've felt some mild tremors in the early morning hours since arriving two months ago. And I'd heard rhetorically before coming over that Japan experiences at least one earthquake every day. But somehow, despite my inability to sleep well until getting my bed last weekend, I've not felt a single one. Until today. A 6.1 or 6.2 magnitude quake occurred off the coast of Honshu, the main island of Japan, a little after 12:30pm local time. It couldn't have lasted more than 10 seconds (if that); and no one felt the need to evacuate the building, although I immediately stood up so that I could do so. (Pictures from last week of the giant sink hole in Guatemala immediately flashed through my mind, although that sink hole was not caused by an earthquake.) In fact, everyone remained very calm; and the only thing that anyone said was to move out from underneath the ceiling fans. The feeling of the earthquake was scary. But I don't think I can say that it's more scary than evacuating to the basement when my house/apartment/school has been in the path of a tornado. In fact, it may be a little less scary because at least the sky stays blue instead of changing to a creepy green.

Until next time...

Being Sick in Japan

I've been sick for the past couple weeks. What was originally a cold has become what feels like a sinus infection. But because I didn't have my insurance card until late last night, I'd been unable to go to the doctor. This morning I made several phone calls trying to find someone to take me to the doctor. The guy who is the AETs' liaison with the city was "very busy" and his assistant doesn't have the proper authority (whatever that means) to take me. So he told me to ask my vice principal or head English teacher to take me. But neither of them speaks English. (Yes, my head English teacher doesn't speak English.) So I called the minister and the missionaries at the church to see if one of them could take me. And M.T., the woman I met all those years ago when I came to Japan for Let's Start Talking, was very kind to do so. But it's hard being dependent on others for their transportation, language skills, etc., especially when we've been told not to impose on church members for our needs. So even though M.T. had told me to call her if I needed anything and was very happy to be able to help me, I still felt like I was imposing.

The doctor I saw had spent two or three years in the U.S. back in the '80s and spoke English with me. However, he wouldn't look at me when he talked to me. And his nurse physically moved my body in the way that she wanted it to go rather than asking M.T. to translate any directions she might have for me. (I felt like the Japanese kindergarten students I teach whose sensei physically push/pull them around the room to where they want them to move.) But M.T. thinks that maybe he was nervous with her presence in the room, since when she tried to clarify something he'd said in English by asking the same thing in Japanese, he said, in English, "That's what I told her." (Perhaps this was a "face" issue for him, to be in the presence of another Japanese person who speaks English very well when he was self-conscious of his own abilities.) Whether his bedside manner is always so abrupt or not, I don't care. My visit to the doctor and the medicine he gave me (for which I didn't have to go to a pharmacy to pick up) cost me less than $15. Say what you want about socialized medicine. But it worked for me today!

Work Week Three

Work week three has come and gone and with it my memories of anything good that happened. Last week was rough. On Tuesday while I was eating lunch with one of the sixth grade classes, I was asking the students the questions that they've learned in their years of English study. How old are you? When's your birthday? What color do you like? etc. Apparently one of the girls had had enough of my questions because after a while she got up from her desk (There is no cafeteria in most Japanese schools. Students eat in their classrooms.) and said something to the teacher's assistant. He then said to me something along the lines of there not being enough time. So I told him that I'd eat fast. And I stopped talking. But later as I thought back on the lunch period that day, when she got up to ask him to tell me to stop talking, there were at least 25 minutes left of the lunch period. I guess she wanted to save her English for when it was required, which was to come during the next period.

On Wednesday, I went to my one-day-a-week kindergarten to teach. Since it was raining, I nixed the biking out of deference to the rain and bike's victory over me during my commute two weeks prior. While walking in front of the kindergarten, I noticed the playground had been turned into a parking lot; and when I tried to enter the front gate to the school grounds, I found it locked. Several buses were parked beside the kindergarten. But they appeared to be on the elementary school grounds, which is located next door. So I walked past them and through another closed but unlocked gate to the front door only to find a bicycle blocking the entrance. A teacher I didn't recognize got off the bus and started talking to me in Japanese. Following behind her were a teacher I did recognize and the principal. The principal told me that the school was headed to a nearby aquarium for a field trip. I told the principal that I would go back home; but she told me to get on the bus. So I loaded onto the bus and before I could even take off my jacket, we took off. I literally arrived to school moments before the buses departed. And upon getting off the bus at the aquarium, the other teachers were surprised to see me. Clearly they all forgot that it was my day to teach at their school. And I can't really blame them since I'd taught only once before at their school due to the Golden Week holiday. But apparently this happens with great regularity - schedule changes that aren't passed along to the AETs. And I so didn't enjoy myself at the aquarium, since I have a hard time seeing animals in captivity. Tomorrow I head back to the school. So let's hope that the third time is the charm for having a good experience there.

On Friday one of the fifth graders I was eating with told me that my hair looked like Michael Jackson's. (I think there was a curly lock that had fallen in front of my eyes.) When I asked her if she liked Michael Jackson, she hesitated and drew in breath through her teeth, which means no. So I'm not sure if she was telling me that she doesn't like me or just my hair. Then later that night while eating ramen with S.K., one of the AETs' contacts at the board of education office, I ate a piece of meat that I had thought was beef but quickly came to realize had to have been something else when it tasted the way a grossly unclean public bathroom smells. (That was my first and last time to eat liver.)

Thankfully the weekend ended up redeeming the work week, as I had a lot of fun at scooter safety school, shopping for furniture for my apartment, and spending time with other AETs.

Until next time...

Bamboo Forest

When I woke up on Wednesday morning of Golden Week, my tired eyes decided to rebel against my contacts with considerable burning and tearing. So my plans to go to the seaside park were thwarted, as I had to go back to bed to give my eyes a rest. However, I had the last laugh over my uncooperative eyes by visiting Kairaku-en Park, a local city park, later that day instead.

Kairaku-en Park was built in the mid-1800s by Lord Tokugawa, a local feudal lord, for regular people to enjoy. (Parks in those days were intended solely for the enjoyment of the aristocracy.) The park is quite large, having upper and lower portions separated by Senba Lake. As it would have taken quite a while to enjoy the entire park, my friend, C.G., and I visited the upper portion. The park itself was quite beautiful on the day we visited but is at its most beautiful in late-February or early-March when the more than 100 varieties of pink-, white-, and red-flowered plum trees blossom. I found the bamboo forest to be quite fascinating.

My friend, C.G., thought that these immature bamboo trees looked like poo. But to me they look like the tail-end of those creepy, giant, burrowing worms from the movie "Tremors." What do you think?

Until next time...

Golden Weekend

Friday evening began Golden Week festivities. On Friday, A.T., a Japanese friend I met in 1998 while I was in another city doing Let's Start Talking, picked me up from work to take me to his home for dinner with his family, one of his wife's American coworkers who's an AET for a private company, a member of the church, and the missionaries in residence at the church. I had such a great time! We had good conversation, ate yummy beef curry and rice, and had completely homemade rice crackers (The rice was grown in the church member's mother's rice field, ground into flour, and then baked.) and store-bought pastries for dessert. (I'm amazed at Japanese bakeries. They give the French a run for their money.) Spending time with the other AETs is a lot of fun. And I'm glad that I have that network of other Americans. But spending time with the people of the country I'm visiting/living in/working in makes my experience of that country so much richer.

On Saturday I went to Yokohama with fellow AETs N.P., C.G. and C.T. We were going to Kamakura to see the bronze Daibutsu (Great Buddha) that has been standing since the mid-13th Century. It is one of the most noted images of Japan, having endured numerous storms that washed away the hall that contained it. And with it being the beginning of Golden Week, there were large crowds of people who wanted to see it as well. (Click here to see more pictures of my visit to the Daibutsu temple.) While we didn't have problems with the crowds on the way to or in the temple of the Daibutsu, we ran into problems with the crowds at the train station.

Japanese people are very polite most of the time. But when it comes to standing in line and catching a train, they can become downright aggressive. People were getting swept off their feet as people behind them pushed to get off or on the train. Children were crying as they got crushed by pushy people and torn away from their parents' hands. N.P., one of the guys I was traveling with, was literally carried onto the train under the power of the people pushing from behind him. He didn't want to board the train at that time, since there wasn't going to be room for all four of us to board. But one person's strength isn't enough to withstand the force of dozens of people from behind and around pushing to get on the train. I'd joked earlier in the day that I wanted to ride a train in Tokyo where the white-gloved train employees push on people to cram them into every available space so that the doors can close. But now that I understand first-hand how people die from the crush of the crowds at soccer games in Europe and how N.P. said that his left foot never touched the ground during that train ride, I never want to experience that again. (Unfortunately, though, I think it's inevitable, since most of my traveling will be done while taking advantage of these national holidays.) When all was said and done, N.P. and C.G. were able to make it on to the second or third train that left the station while C.T. and I weren't able to make it on a train until the fourth or fifth train came through, causing us to stand in line on the train platform for almost one hour.

Kamakura is a coastal town. So before heading back to our hotel in Yokohama to pick up our bags before catching the train home on Sunday evening, we visited the Pacific Ocean. I can't remember what the Pacific Ocean off southern California feels like, if it's warm or chilly. But the Pacific Ocean off this portion of Honshu was quite chilly and felt wonderful to our feet after our miles of walking that day and the day before. While there, we got asked by a Japanese girl if she and her family could have their picture taken with us. Since she said that they live in the prefecture neighboring Tokyo, we doubted that this was their first time to see non-Japanese people. And there were other non-Asians on the beach; so who knows why she singled us out. Maybe we were acting like typically obnoxious (read: loud) Americans. So perhaps she'll blog about us the way I'm blogging about them!

Today was a relaxing day. Tomorrow I'm off to a seaside park with the A.T. family and others from church. I've heard it's beautiful; so I'm sure I'll have pictures to share.

Until next time...