Japan was good.

The office today is amped up with noises of frustration, panic, disbelief, and disagreement, exaggerated yawns and snorting of flem. Its before 9am on Monday and seriously disconcerting, if not nails-on-a-chalkboard-to-my-hangover . By hangover I mean weekend drunk with awesome. This brings me to my point...



...that my oburoni loves have already made, and have made more eloquently that I, so I will ask you to read about it here if you were wondering whether I am having the time of my life in Japan. I am, but it's love the second time around, and that, I am finding out to be, is something quite different.

"Every Situation is Different"

Every JET comes to hate those words, yet use them, perhaps even a lot. I recently found a piece of paper on which I leaked my steam of consciousness back in March when my co-teacher called in sick and I was tossed into some awkward pseudo-class. I felt like I had to do something besides just sit there with the sub for and hour so I began to write. I think it is a good example of how different awkward things can get.


March 2010


Normally it would be really rude to just sit here in monastic silence while the P.E. teacher sits next to me. I wonder what he is doing? I wonder what he thinks I should be doing? Is he wondering what I think he thinks he should be doing? What? Do the kids respect me at all? If he was gone what could we possibly be doing right now? If I was somewhere else what could I possibly be doing right now? How can so much of this still be a mystery? The kids are testing us right now. At least I think that. What does he think? Is he not thinking about this at all? Seriously the kids are just copying over and over words into their notebook. How do they feel about this? Does he think I am judging him? I can't believe I am sitting in front of class giving kids looks for talking. I feel like such a sell out. I do it because it's for their own good. That's bull shit. Ah the awkwardness is killing me. It's cancer, it won't stop growing. I can't believe the crap I pull out of my ass. For example, I am in class and nobody talks to me. I single out kids that are doing something that I can ask a stupid question about, i.e. drawing. "Oh, are you drawing?" [Oh dear God, what did she say?!] "Drawing" [F#%@, She is talking to us] "You know (gestures with objects), Drawing" [What the hell is she talking about?! Why us?!? Oh God!] So I am at a dead end. The veteran JET that I now am pulls open my notebook and starts reading anything. I then weave a story around my seemingly absurd actions with my limited Japanese vocabulary. The best part is when victory is achieved, when on a simple level students understand what I am doing, it doesn't matter that what I am doing actually makes no sense at all. It is like observing animals. Before we can care about "why?" we must discover the "what?" And when that is an epic struggle in itself, figuring out "what?" is to be celebrated. This one kid keeps looking at me. He looks evil. He looks like he is waiting for an opportunity. He is literally on the edge of his seat. The teacher keeps readjusting and making grunting noises. Why do you clear your throat when you don't ever say anything? Why are kids looking at each other from across the room? The information games that are going on right now are unbelieveable. I am so far from the loop. Sometimes I wish they had one day in my shoes. I think they might combust. What is opposite? Can things be infinitely far from each other, not measurable, and still be opposite? You can hear the clock ticking. Is this real life? Do the kids in the front feel sorry for themselves? Are they afriad of me? Do I look pissed off? I would think this all sounded insecure, but in this case, I actually have no idea what is going one. I'm curious. Wow! Has it almost been 45min already. This $%&+ is crazy. I would rather be napping. My body is in WTF mode. Am I being self-absorbed? Is he really looking at the clock instead of me? I honestly just thought - "just pretend it's a pap smear, it will be over soon." The room certainly feels cold and sterile enough. What's for lunch? That white rice is crack. Everyone wants this to be over. Did I say how uncomfortable this makes me?

Drinking with the PTA starts at 4:00 sharp

One thing I think I will miss is seeing a manly Japanese man pull his cell phone out of his inner suit pocket, only for there to be a big fuzzy pink pom pom charm dangling from it.

Last weekend I was surrounded by a lot of these Japanese men. It all began one typically random day when my co-teacher asked me if I would attend the PTA party. “Of course,” said I. Instead of the usual response of “Ok thank you,” I got, “WHAT?!? Really? Wow, good. for. you!” The teacher proceeded to announce to anyone who walked in the room that I would, in fact, be going.  Mostly there was laughter, but one person told me that I rock.

Naturally I was suspicious. Over the next few hours I went on intelligence recon missions, like looking at the invite paper only to see there was a different price for women. With my ample free time, these facts weaved an intriguing situation with my imagination, and before the day ended I assumed I was going to a strip club on a fishing boat.

Japan is a great nurturer of the imagination. It takes you into completely new situations that don’t make sense, and you have to fill the gaps, but my mind doesn’t like to stop there. Take yesterday, instead of being in a sauna with 3 Japanese grandmothers, or more likely great-grandmothers, listening to enka, we were in my mind, having a full blown sing along.

The downside to this is sometimes Japan just doesn’t go far enough. It gets your hopes up, and then stops short at 15 PTA dads smoking around a table, eating canned fish and mayo, and ignoring you until they get drunk enough to ask why are you only staying here one year?

I am glad I went. It is at those very moments you appreciate everything that brought you to that exact place and time in the universe. But then the man to my left started to snore loudly as he dosed into his food, and I couldn’t help but think I wanted to be outside playing with kids in the street instead. And then I had a tragic thought. What if everyone else at this table felt that way too?

Contradict this!

I LOVE contradictions. Who doesn’t? That is why Japan is so great. If I don’t think “what the efff?!?” at least once a day I think I must not be putting my self out there enough – I’m just not truly experiencing Japan. So I go outside and open myself to Japan. I say Japan, throw something incomprehensible or at least mildly confusing at me! And Japan does not disappoint.

And last weekend as I pulled my scooter out of the driveway a car going twice the speed limit flew around the blind corner, I swerved into a wall, my poor Hondo Cesta’s ego bruised. The man laid on his horn and gave me a look of utter disgust. I choose to love how rude this man was for the depth it gives to the cultural stereotype that Japanese people are super polite, something severely contradicted when they get in a car. This particular contradiction gives me such as rush. But moving on, as I stoked my Cesta and whispered sweet nothings, we rode to the store and I thought “what will I buy today?”

If it is February , some “obligation chocolates” to show that I was thinking of my co workers. I love how  a “just thinking of you because your special” becomes literally an obligation. Or should I buy an eco bag for my future shopping needs to cut down on the last layer of excessive packaging (those obligations chocolates are the only things individually wrapped, put in a plastic tray, wrapped again and  sometimes put into a box before getting its own bag). Of course the cashier puts my new bag into a bag.

Japan is still one step ahead of me and has designed an intensive trash collection system where the excessiveness must be separated and recycled, reclaimed material for more excessiveness. How can I use the word “excessive” so much in Japan when portions of food are smaller and things are generally miniature? I don’t know. That is the beauty of contradictions. 

Will the Real JTE Please Stand Up

My attempts to speak to  find my co-teacher continue...

So before I left yesterday I stood up approached my new English co-teacher and said “Mr. Iaoueaoueuueeee Sensei. It was nice to meet you. If you need any help, please tell me.” He looked confused. So I say, “I know you are really busy so I can help you.”  He cocks his head to the side, takes a deep breath and says, “Ehhhhhhhh むざかしかな。。。”  The science teacher comes out of nowhere with a translation for him.

DAng! I have a feeling he doesn’t speak English.

So today we have class together. I feel like maybe we should have a convo before that happens. I know I am going to be the one that has to bring it up. But how? Its like asking someone to prom. DAng!

I wish to speak to the new secretary too. The old one was my best friend. She told me what was happening when I found myself all alone. She told me how to get off the island. She told me what was in the school lunch. She told me that I should exist the building since the fire drill started 10 minutes ago… The secretary and the tea lady are the solid gold backbone of the JET Program. My new secretary looks like he is 15 and trying to grow facial hair.  His suit is also eating him. He works in the tea time corner behind a divider. I really want to go back there and chat it up but I think that would give him a stroke. I can’t believe I work in an office where merely talking to someone might cause them physical harm.

So I developed a strategy for conquering these socially awkward mountains. I make bets with another JET. We often talk to each other online throughout the day to exchange WTFs, figure out what is going on, draw up battle plans etc. So I bet she has to confront her teacher or whoever and I will give her the box of treats that magically appeared on my desk, but the catch is every hour she hasn’t done it, I will eat something from the box. She bets that I won’t talk to my new co-teacher or secretary by lunch, or I get the vending machine drank of my choice.

Not one to loose bets, I just asked my co-teacher in Japanese if there is anything I could do for 5^th period. He seems confused so I say “English class.” Then he says something about asking the English teacher, while pointing to the desk where the new P.E. teacher sits. Hmmm. This is where I could ask my old secretary what, WHAT, is going on.

Sooo, I’ve had to wait until now, 5^th period to see if the JTE would reveal him/herself. Nobody has taken me to class so I’m about to sneak up there and see who it is. Be right back…

Ok so I stood around the corner and listened in an empty stairwell for about 5 minutes. The teacher is who I think I suspected it to be all along. He was just telling jokes in Japanese without a mention of English.  The saga continues!

May I have you attention please. May I have your attention please.

Back in Black

The First Day of School AGAIN, seriously, again…

What a come back! I pulled up to my town on a cruise liner and stepped out into the blue silloutes that come right before sunrise, dropped off my bags, put a suit into my backpack and rode underneath the cherry blossoms to another first day of school. As I rode through the trees, birds would flutter around to the next branch sending petals floating down to their song. YES! The island has transformed from LOST, to a Skittles Commercial, to alas Disney movie.

When I walked into school I could hear boxing ring bells in my head. This is round 9 and Momma said to Knock You Out. All the teachers are new (that’s a story) and I had no idea what was going to happen except for the FACT a lot of punches would be thrown today. Maybe its because I’m cracked out from the 30 straight hours traveling to get back here, or maybe I am just intoxicated with Spring, or maybe I am experiencing a monster insulin surge from eating literally pounds of rice upon my return (Thanks Korean Air). Who really knows, its Japan.

The two most obvious things I saw about America in my recent culture shock were that Americans are almost naked usually in an unfortunate looking way and the food there is ridiculously salty - Nothing extremely deep I wish to delve into, except for the observation that most Americans do not accessorize on a daily basis.

The most awkward thing that has happened so far is that my new co-teacher has not spoken to me. He sits across from me and has had 8 hours to do so. I felt like I couldn't interrupt his busying around, but I also feel like the next few hours will be crucial for making some social contact. Especially since we are partners in crime now, and Japan I would like to ask you, how can we be that if we pretend each other do not exist?

Oh no.

I would like to place some bets. VEgASSSS woo!

Actually I would like to wager some ke-ki (cake) that my goodbye card will be addressed to Mrs. Kerry, that I will have never seen my neighbor, and that by the end of the year this will still be happening...

 

But moving on, OK. So. I don’t know how to tell you this. But all of a sudden I have the urge to watch Anime, sing J-Pop karaoke, and study Japanese until I go blind. I haven’t felt like acting on these urges. But I do feel them existing. Japan is going to get me!