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!