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...