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!