Yosakoi

Last weekend I went to the Yosakoi festival in Sasebo. It felt like I was in a different country. There were white people, and black people! And nobody stared at me! There were mohawks and piercings. I saw a teenage girl dressed kind of like Little Bo Peep. And I saw a pizza restaurant, God Bless them. I choose to overlook their “Americana” Pizza with french fry and hot dog toppings, as well as the fact that mozzarella and tomato sauce were options that cost extra.

Besides the human contact with peers, the dancing was nice too. Yosakoi is a style of team dance that mixes traditional Japanese dance with modern movements and music.

I think this might have been the modern part…

Lunchtime

A recent book review on NPR said that the author of the largest book release this year was attracted to writing about middle school because of its “inherent drama.” He obviously did not go to a Japanese Middle School. The only drama here is the drama I make up in my head to make sense of my world and sometimes just to pass time.

While I waited for lunch today, I sat at a desk made for someone 3 ft. tall (The students desks are bigger, I don’t know why I get the small one, seriously my knees can’t go under it.) in a circle with the other students in their classroom. I listened to choir music on the boom box and watched the students serve up lunch trays of fried, sponge-like and gelatinous objects. As soon as that was settled, we ate quietly, but with a purpose, since a maximum of 20 minutes is allotted to eat every last piece and clean up. Today the menu was cold whole little fried fishies and a pickled salad with more fish bits and the standard bowl of white rice and 100% milk (I don't know what that means either). It was the same menu as my very first school lunch, that time when I got sick because my stomach thought I had voluntarily chosen to eat that, and it was trying to teach me a lesson… I was the only one not wearing a hygienic mask, hat or white apron by the way, and as I took it all in – the sterileness, the clockwork efficiency and measured proportions, I realized how ridiculously different this all is from my own middle school lunch time survival experiences…

There were so many variables that went into your lunchtime status. Who were your friends? Who were your backup friends? Was your last class close to the lunch area or an extra 5 minutes away? Did you buy lunch? Did you bring lunch? Did try and set the bathrooms on fire instead of eating lunch? And did you have a dollar for the Otis Spunkmeyer hot chocolate chip cookies right before lunchtime ended?

As someone of middle status, This meant it would have been awkward for me to try and sit with a more popular acquaintance and it would be impossible for me to bring my friends along because that would cross boundaries and amount to an invasion, which would have been perceived as hostile. But at least I had freedom of movement throughout different territories. The stress came with defending our own mid-level plot with shade (key) from an encroachment of undesirables who had bigger numbers. The stake out of the area was precisely coordinated in advance, with who already had lunch and would get there first, based on shortest distance traveling from class. The only detention I’ve ever had was from getting caught leaving class early to get to lunch.

We also had music at lunchtime, but choir music might have motivated escapes. Sometimes a “DJ” would play music on Fridays. That stopped when the yard duties actually listened to some of the lyrics. I especially remember the time they wised up to the Aint Nothing But Mammals song, probably realizing “do it like they do it on the discovery channel” was not about wildlife photography or such things.

Lunch was an essential element of middle school. The drama, the politics, the social maneuvers, the freedoms of expression! Not to forget, the life lessons in defense of property and the effects of libel, without which I would be a different person today. The order and equality that rules the lunchtime here, must be likewise influencing Japanese students. It would be naive of me to think that my Japanese middle school lacks a social geography, just because I don’t notice who is cool and where they hang out. For now, while this school in particular compared to my others, feels so strict and orderly, on good days I feel like it is more Zen sanctuary, than an expressionless void. For now...

A Medley of Incomplete Thoughts

Lately I have been having a lot of thoughts, but have been feeling anti-blog. Here are some things I would like to write and/or think about some more, but haven’t.

1. Elementary School

I think elementary school is a magical realm. When I am physically on the premises, it feels like someone is playing with my hair. Why does this happen?

2. The Regulars

I think I have been here long enough to establish nicknames and fictional background stories for people I see on a regular basis, i.e. awesome taxi driver lady, man that throws dog poo into the ocean, creepy grandma that stares into my house… Actually, that's it. I need to develop a routine and encounter more people.

3. Why this island is like LOST

There are a lot of strange happenings and even more things I am not aware of. I am just a pawn in their game. I really want to explore some comparisons to LOST, but first I must finish all seasons of LOST. Maybe I will have to wait until the series finale next year. I want to be thorough. I really feel there is something to be said about this.

4. I have a house

Well its an apartment, but from the inside you would never know it wasn’t a shrunken house. Who the hell game me keys to a house? Sometimes I will be inside and look around and think, I am doing alllllllright. Other times I will look around and think this must be a joke. Who thought this was a good idea? I am but a child.

5. This island in regards to typhoons and other phenomenon’s of earth science.

Last week there was a typhoon. All of my schools have a view of the ocean so I spent my days watching how the water changed. It really felt like the earth was brewing up a potion. The water was more bubbly and alive. But being on a smallish island in this pot provides a whole new perspective. What exactly is it though?

Everything Happens For a Reason?

While looking for American slang to put on my English Board that nobody looks at in the school where I have nothing to do, I came across this phrase for ESL learners on the internet:

“The Japanese are an easy mark because they usually carry cash.
 (Meaning likely victims).”

And then I had an epiphanic moment, where my daydreams flashed back to a phrase often taught to and repeated by Japanese students…”I have no money!”

And so I once again felt that feeling that everything happens for a reason. Today my students spent the English period memorizing “His word makes me happy,” and “Don’t ask me about my broken heart.” I am now of course, looking forward to the day the universe sheds more light on why 12 year old Japanese students will need to know these phrases as well.

I imagine the first sentence to reference the coming reformation, where the young armies from Jesus Camp will take over America, and any Japanese tourist will need to pronounce their devotion to Jesus Christ on the spot. Maybe the former phrase will come in handy when all the Japanese girls wise up and realize all the hot gajin men they get attention from are actually socially awkward losers. I know that sounds harsh, but see the Urban Dictionary entry for clarification…

	yellow fever
	A mental disease that afflicts the Wapanese, the fanboys, and the otaku. Symptoms of this condition are; (a) A sexual obsession towards females of Asian descent. (b) An obsession towards Asian media and entertainment, primarily anime, hentai, manga, and other Japanese media. (c) A sudden urge to imitate anything from Asia. For instance, learning Japanese and eating sushi just for the sheer sake of trying to be "Asian". (d) Thinking that one knows more about Japan than the Japanese themselves, despite never setting foot in that country or at lest reading about it. An Asian-American girl was harassed by some psycho who had a bad case of yellow fever. Fortunately, she had a can of Mace(tm) in her purse and did not hesitate to use it on him.

I am still in need of some slang to teach. Since the PTA probably looks at my board more than anyone, I think I need something more appropriate than, say “yellow fever.” “Couch potato” is apparently a Japanese word. I learned this after I drew an awesome picture, thinking I was doing something really productive for once. I just can’t bring myself to introduce the word “dork” into a middle school, and I already tried to teach “Respect my Authoritay” and “That’s hardcore,” but they didn’t get it. No fun.

Lay Low

Sometimes I wonder if you can really be set on a predetermined unfortunate course for the day. Is there anything you can do about it? Can you think your way out of it? Should you just have stayed in bed? Will it be like a Japanese drinking party, and the next day it will be as if the principal never got a lap dance from the PE teacher?

I brought two pairs of work pants to Japan.

This morning I woke up with a slug problem in my bathroom.

Normally these two happenstances would never cross paths, but if you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, they inevitably will. For example, if you are double jointed and also still secretly like the boy band Hanson, those two aspects of life will definitely cross each other in some unfortunate way, just because that is where life is headed on a bad day.

What I am trying to say is, I now only have one pair of pants to wear to work. My god, I have become Mr. Gibbons, my high school physics teacher that wore the same thing everyday. I still have slugs appearing on my walls, but yet my house smells like bleach and it makes my nose sting. I managed to (politely of course) get kicked out of class. I sprayed the school secretary with bathroom water. I am trying to think of what could happen next so I can change course. If I don’t move from my desk for the rest of the day that would probably divert most inopportune moments. This means I probably shouldn’t say anything to anyone either. Or make eye contact. Closing my computer would be a good idea just in case I fall asleep and there is a malfunction and my nude pictures show up as the screen saver.

Of course there are some major, major F ups than can and legitimately do ruin a day. I am merely questioning the small, unnecessary, and often serial ones that just don’t give you a break. Who is to blame: myself, the zodiac, Japan?

(Mom I do not have nude pictures)