It’s hard to believe I haven’t written an entry exclusively about my students yet. I guess that’s because at first, it seemed like there was too much to cover, and later, they became just another part of my daily routine. As harsh as it sounds, as a whole, they became a little boring and predictable. Not individually, but collectively. After a full day trying my hardest to bond and connect with Japanese teenagers, the last thing I wanted was to go home and think more about them. But recently, I’ve gotten more resilient to the trials and tribulations of being an ALT in Japan, so I’ve felt compelled to get a few words down about the kids I’ve been sharing the joys of English with.
To set the scene, I teach 11 classes a week, for 1st, 2nd and 3rd graders in senior high school (that’s 10th, 11th, 12th grade; ie. 15-18 years old). I teach about 120 first years, 120 second years, and 20 third years. So needless to say, I don’t exactly know each of them by name… which is shame, but almost impossible to accomplish, short of making them wear nametags all day (like elementary school kids). Remembering names is even more difficult than usual for me because they are all Japanese, and while they sometimes want to be called by their first names, usually teachers address them by their family name. So I would effectively have to learn two names for each student in order to keep on top of things (500 names). But I do what I can, and I do know a lot of kids’ names.
On top of those issues, I don’t see each student all that often. Most first and second years I only see once every two weeks, at the most. That’s assuming the school schedule isn’t interrupted by Sports Day, tests, assembly or work experience. There are a couple of classes that are doing a special English course, so I see them twice a week.
The Bad
About a year ago, I described how my students seemed pretty ‘catatonic’ in class, but now, after more than a year of teaching, I’m totally used to this. I know the best techniques for eliciting responses from them, and I no longer feel uncomfortable standing in front of 40 pairs of eyes (only half of which are open) and 20 blank faces. And I now understand why they’re like this- it’s pretty much the ‘ideal’ classroom environment. They are supposed to be like sponges, absorbing information. Questioning, being critical, and offering opinions are not considered important in the Japanese education system, and are even looked on as delinquent behavior.
I won’t embark on an exposition of everything wrong with the Japanese education system. But I will say that I feel sorry for the kids I teach. In fact, in some respects, there is a lot to pity about being Japanese. By valuing perseverance and duty to the extreme, this society pushes people to their limits. It seems like the majority of students and teachers are seriously sleep deprived, and that it’s the norm, rather than the exception, for people to hate what they do in their day to day life. Yet they do it anyway, because they know no other way.
This became painfully obvious the other day when I gave my second year students (16 year olds) an “About You” worksheet to complete. They had to finish six sentences: “I like…”, “I hate…”, “I always…”, “I’ve never…”, “I’m scared of…”, “I’m looking forward to…”.
Two boys (in a class of 20) answered the following:
I hate rugby.
I always play rugby.
I hate baseball.
I always play baseball.
Another kid wanted to finish the sentence “I’m scared of…” with the English word for 人生. I didn’t know what it meant until after class, when I looked it up. It means ‘life’, or ‘human existence’.
In the case of my students, school is their life. But it doesn’t merely encompass study and homework. In fact, club activities are taken just as seriously, if not more so, than schoolwork. In the most extreme cases, a student will get up at 5am, do their club activity (e.g. soccer), go to classes from 8:30 to 3pm, do more club activities until 6, go to juku (cram school), and get home around 10 or 11pm. Day after day. Weekends and vacation periods are also often taken up with their club activity. There are plenty of kids who don’t belong to a club, some of whom dedicate all their free time to studying. And then there are others who don’t have a club and don’t study, either. But such ‘lack of motivation’ definitely isn’t encouraged in Japan, and these kids seem to have other problems (family, personal) that have led them to be in this state.
Basic psychology says that people don’t do anything without some kind of reward, on some level. So pushing yourself to the extreme does pay off in some way, if only to reassure yourself that you’re ‘doing the right thing’. This, to me, seems to be at the heart of why so many people in Japan live what could be described as ‘lives of quiet desperation’. I’m not saying people here don’t ever enjoy themselves, but from my perspective, it seems that when faced with the choice of doing what they want, or doing what they should do, most Japanese would choose the latter. Perseverance is valued above all else. Of course, there is much to be admired about this, but day-to-day, I tend to see the negative results of this, in the sheer exhaustion of students.
The kids also seem to suffer from a huge lack of confidence, by Western standards, anyway. In places like Australia and the US, we’re used to hearing the old “You can do anything!” spiel. As cheesy and clichéd as this seems, it IS a big part of the Western outlook these days. I think it does sink in for most kids, who (barring any conflicting messages from parents) hear it throughout their 13 years of education. Another key message is “Be yourself!”. But these aren’t a given in Japan. In fact, a famous Japanese saying is “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down”. My students are terrified of taking risks, for fear of making mistakes. Even if that risk is answering a simple “Yes” or “No” question in English class. Or writing an answer in pen, which is permanent, rather than pencil, which they can erase.
So these are some of the negative aspects of my students. I won't go into experiences I've had with kids acting out in class - that's another story...
But overall, the good outweighs the bad, so I'll get to "The Good" next time.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Friday, December 12, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
August
For the last month, I’ve been living a life of two extremes, filled with intense planning and socializing on the one hand, and mind-numbing boredom on the other.
Intense…
August was the month of new JET arrivals. As a second-year JET, I was appointed to the role of RPA (Regional Prefectural Advisor) in April. Usually there are only PAs, not special regional ones as well, but since Gifu is such a big prefecture, it’s necessary to have representatives for each of the five regions. There are two of us for each region, so I’m working with another JET to help the new people settle in. So during August, much of my time was taken up with the following tasks, some of which were pretty tanoshii (fun), others which were more of a drag, and kind of scary, to be honest:
-Contacting new JETs at their schools, the week they arrived. This sounded easy enough. Simply dial a number, use super-polite, rehearsed Japanese phrase to inquire as to whether a certain ALT is available, speak to said ALT in English. And it was fairly simple, although I fear that I scared most of the JETs, who were a) not expecting a phone call at work, and b) had no clue who I was. From the first tentative ‘moshi moshi’, or ‘hello?’, I became all-to-aware of the trepidation and bewilderment in their voices. No doubt most of them were somewhat dazed, partly as a result of the fact that only days before, they had been teleported from a five-star hotel in Tokyo to a shack/apartment in the middle of some rice-fields. I tried to explain that I was calling just to “see how things were going”, but still I could sense that most didn’t feel comfortable enough to answer honestly. I’m sure calling them helped at least a little in their adjustment to life in Gifu, though.
-Making a video about Gifu. This appeared to be an overwhelming task, which me and the other RPA avoided doing for quite awhile. The aim was to introduce ourselves and our region via video to the new JETs, some of whom we will probably never meet in person. Eventually, we borrowed a camera on what turned out to be the hottest day of the year (around 40 and humid)… a trek around Gifu city was required, and overall, we did really well considering the conditions! We also ‘voluntold’ my visiting Australian friend to play camerawoman and director. We really didn’t have much of a plan, so we used our improv comedy ‘skills’ to liven up the video. Uh, yes…it was hilarious…?
-Writing a guide about Gifu. Still working on this one… another endeavor to make this place more accessible to the newbies. Maybe once we’re done, I can finally grant the people at Lonely Planet their wish and write that book for them- I’ve been in demand there for a few years now, you know. *sigh*
-Organizing presentations for Orientation: another task we successfully managed to avoid until close to D-Day. Ultimately, the orientation went well, but not without a bit of anxiety. Especially since I hardly feel qualified to tell other people (some of whom are trained teachers) how to teach English to Japanese kids. One cool thing we RPAs got out of orientation was brand spanking new Gifu T-shirts (limited edition, of course). With ぎふ (Gifu) on the back, and a map of it on the shoulder (MY idea!), we were looking pretty snazzy. The best part was, one stroke of the ぎ was drawn as an ayu fish, and the ふ was made to look like a cormorant. You really have to be Japanese or a Gifu JET to get the reference- but cormorant fishing (ukai) is Gifu’s claim to fame. Check it out:
-Organizing welcome events. One of the more fun jobs. Lots of meet-and-greets, bringing out the ‘social butterfly’ in me… actually, probably more like a ‘social caterpillar’. It was exciting to meet some fresh faces for a change. Plenty of drinking and eating and sweating under the hot summer sun (during the walking tour of Gifu, conveniently conducted on the other hottest day of the year).
In between being a busy little RPA and dealing with the summer heat, I also squeezed in a quick getaway to the US to visit my Grandma. My August schedule was so full that I had to book my trip for the day after the orientation. Once I arrived, it was so much the complete opposite of everything I’d experienced for the past month and year that I was a little dazed. Not only was I in the US - radically different from Japan in every way - but I had nothing I had to do… except bond with Grandma. I have to admit I spend many quality hours in front of the TV, absorbing all the English I could and rejoicing in being able to understand everything! Unfortunately, my trip was so short (6 days) that I didn’t get a chance to venture into Chicago or enjoy much of the outside world, except a couple of restaurants and the optometrist’s clinic. But no matter; in many ways, the trip recharged me for my next 11 months in Japan. In other ways though, it made me a little more fed up with some aspects of living here that I will explain in the next post.
Mind-numbing…
So as a foil to my RPA persona, my alter-ego was bored ALT. It was the usual scenario, which I don’t believe I’ve described here before. Probably because it’s so boring, even writing about it is boring. Basically, in Japan, teachers have no official holiday periods. Well, aside from a week in August (Obon-week) when many Japanese return to their hometowns to pay homage to their ancestors and dance in a circle- yes, really. But there are no school holidays for teachers, not in the way there are in Western countries. The situation is confusing, and I’m no expert, because no one has ever explained it properly to me, but many teachers have to be at their desks all summer in case a student comes with questions about their school work. Yes. In summer. Summer ‘break’ is only about a month here anyway, and for the first part of the break there are ‘supplementary classes’. (Don’t ask me, I don’t know why they’re necessary either.) A LOT of students continue to come to school, in their uniform, all through summer. They come to prepare for the school culture and sports festivals, which are held during the second week back. Their dedication is unbelievable, but to me, as much sad as admirable. In my first classes back with students I ask them, ‘Did you enjoy summer vacation?’. To which they invariably reply, ‘No.’ Why? Because they spent every day either at school, studying, in sports training, or traveling to some obscure part of the country to participate in a compulsory sports match. In Japan, the emphasis on just doing what you’re supposed to do is reflected in the fact that there is no phrase (that I’m aware of anyway) equivalent to ‘Have fun!’. Only がんばって (Gambatte), which roughly means ‘try your best’. But, some students managed to go to Disneyland – the height of adolescent pleasure in Japan. And a few went on a study trip to Australia. How could anyone not enjoy Australia??
Needless to say, I got a lot of my planning and RPA work done at school each day. Along with a whole lot of web-surfing, emailing, reading, and some Japanese study. My other free moments were filled with staring across the empty staffroom, gazing wistfully out the window, and marveling at the tasks my colleagues had managed to accomplish during a summer spent at their desks. Like making a model ship out of paper. Or cutting their toe nails. (Seriously.)
And now, to demonstrate a typical summer’s day in the staffroom, here’s snippet of a blog entry I wrote a few weeks ago, but never finished, since 35 degrees doesn’t lend itself to being thoughtful- or coherent for that matter…
It’s so hot I can’t think properly. And I’m at work. What about air conditioning, you say? Well, it seems our school or our prefecture is close to bankruptcy, because even though it is over 30 degrees in the staff room right now, the air conditioning is off. I am baffled as to why it is sometimes on and sometimes off. There seems to be no rhyme or reason regarding the on/off schedule. At first, I was told it had to be over 28 degrees in the staffroom, and after the date of July 1, for the air conditioning to be on. But now, those two requirements have been filled. And yet I am sweating like a pig.
This is summer in Japan. Occasionally, a bug or two enters the staffroom. Sometimes it’s a wasp, sometimes a mosquito, sometimes a fly, sometimes a bumblebee. Heck, we’ve even had a bird. Other times, I am so cold from the air conditioning blasting right at me (due to my unfortunate seating position) that I need to put on a sweater even though it’s 30 degrees outside. But mostly, I’m just hot. And my mind is fuzzy.
Intense…
August was the month of new JET arrivals. As a second-year JET, I was appointed to the role of RPA (Regional Prefectural Advisor) in April. Usually there are only PAs, not special regional ones as well, but since Gifu is such a big prefecture, it’s necessary to have representatives for each of the five regions. There are two of us for each region, so I’m working with another JET to help the new people settle in. So during August, much of my time was taken up with the following tasks, some of which were pretty tanoshii (fun), others which were more of a drag, and kind of scary, to be honest:
-Contacting new JETs at their schools, the week they arrived. This sounded easy enough. Simply dial a number, use super-polite, rehearsed Japanese phrase to inquire as to whether a certain ALT is available, speak to said ALT in English. And it was fairly simple, although I fear that I scared most of the JETs, who were a) not expecting a phone call at work, and b) had no clue who I was. From the first tentative ‘moshi moshi’, or ‘hello?’, I became all-to-aware of the trepidation and bewilderment in their voices. No doubt most of them were somewhat dazed, partly as a result of the fact that only days before, they had been teleported from a five-star hotel in Tokyo to a shack/apartment in the middle of some rice-fields. I tried to explain that I was calling just to “see how things were going”, but still I could sense that most didn’t feel comfortable enough to answer honestly. I’m sure calling them helped at least a little in their adjustment to life in Gifu, though.
-Making a video about Gifu. This appeared to be an overwhelming task, which me and the other RPA avoided doing for quite awhile. The aim was to introduce ourselves and our region via video to the new JETs, some of whom we will probably never meet in person. Eventually, we borrowed a camera on what turned out to be the hottest day of the year (around 40 and humid)… a trek around Gifu city was required, and overall, we did really well considering the conditions! We also ‘voluntold’ my visiting Australian friend to play camerawoman and director. We really didn’t have much of a plan, so we used our improv comedy ‘skills’ to liven up the video. Uh, yes…it was hilarious…?
-Writing a guide about Gifu. Still working on this one… another endeavor to make this place more accessible to the newbies. Maybe once we’re done, I can finally grant the people at Lonely Planet their wish and write that book for them- I’ve been in demand there for a few years now, you know. *sigh*
-Organizing presentations for Orientation: another task we successfully managed to avoid until close to D-Day. Ultimately, the orientation went well, but not without a bit of anxiety. Especially since I hardly feel qualified to tell other people (some of whom are trained teachers) how to teach English to Japanese kids. One cool thing we RPAs got out of orientation was brand spanking new Gifu T-shirts (limited edition, of course). With ぎふ (Gifu) on the back, and a map of it on the shoulder (MY idea!), we were looking pretty snazzy. The best part was, one stroke of the ぎ was drawn as an ayu fish, and the ふ was made to look like a cormorant. You really have to be Japanese or a Gifu JET to get the reference- but cormorant fishing (ukai) is Gifu’s claim to fame. Check it out:
-Organizing welcome events. One of the more fun jobs. Lots of meet-and-greets, bringing out the ‘social butterfly’ in me… actually, probably more like a ‘social caterpillar’. It was exciting to meet some fresh faces for a change. Plenty of drinking and eating and sweating under the hot summer sun (during the walking tour of Gifu, conveniently conducted on the other hottest day of the year).
In between being a busy little RPA and dealing with the summer heat, I also squeezed in a quick getaway to the US to visit my Grandma. My August schedule was so full that I had to book my trip for the day after the orientation. Once I arrived, it was so much the complete opposite of everything I’d experienced for the past month and year that I was a little dazed. Not only was I in the US - radically different from Japan in every way - but I had nothing I had to do… except bond with Grandma. I have to admit I spend many quality hours in front of the TV, absorbing all the English I could and rejoicing in being able to understand everything! Unfortunately, my trip was so short (6 days) that I didn’t get a chance to venture into Chicago or enjoy much of the outside world, except a couple of restaurants and the optometrist’s clinic. But no matter; in many ways, the trip recharged me for my next 11 months in Japan. In other ways though, it made me a little more fed up with some aspects of living here that I will explain in the next post.
Mind-numbing…
So as a foil to my RPA persona, my alter-ego was bored ALT. It was the usual scenario, which I don’t believe I’ve described here before. Probably because it’s so boring, even writing about it is boring. Basically, in Japan, teachers have no official holiday periods. Well, aside from a week in August (Obon-week) when many Japanese return to their hometowns to pay homage to their ancestors and dance in a circle- yes, really. But there are no school holidays for teachers, not in the way there are in Western countries. The situation is confusing, and I’m no expert, because no one has ever explained it properly to me, but many teachers have to be at their desks all summer in case a student comes with questions about their school work. Yes. In summer. Summer ‘break’ is only about a month here anyway, and for the first part of the break there are ‘supplementary classes’. (Don’t ask me, I don’t know why they’re necessary either.) A LOT of students continue to come to school, in their uniform, all through summer. They come to prepare for the school culture and sports festivals, which are held during the second week back. Their dedication is unbelievable, but to me, as much sad as admirable. In my first classes back with students I ask them, ‘Did you enjoy summer vacation?’. To which they invariably reply, ‘No.’ Why? Because they spent every day either at school, studying, in sports training, or traveling to some obscure part of the country to participate in a compulsory sports match. In Japan, the emphasis on just doing what you’re supposed to do is reflected in the fact that there is no phrase (that I’m aware of anyway) equivalent to ‘Have fun!’. Only がんばって (Gambatte), which roughly means ‘try your best’. But, some students managed to go to Disneyland – the height of adolescent pleasure in Japan. And a few went on a study trip to Australia. How could anyone not enjoy Australia??
Needless to say, I got a lot of my planning and RPA work done at school each day. Along with a whole lot of web-surfing, emailing, reading, and some Japanese study. My other free moments were filled with staring across the empty staffroom, gazing wistfully out the window, and marveling at the tasks my colleagues had managed to accomplish during a summer spent at their desks. Like making a model ship out of paper. Or cutting their toe nails. (Seriously.)
And now, to demonstrate a typical summer’s day in the staffroom, here’s snippet of a blog entry I wrote a few weeks ago, but never finished, since 35 degrees doesn’t lend itself to being thoughtful- or coherent for that matter…
It’s so hot I can’t think properly. And I’m at work. What about air conditioning, you say? Well, it seems our school or our prefecture is close to bankruptcy, because even though it is over 30 degrees in the staff room right now, the air conditioning is off. I am baffled as to why it is sometimes on and sometimes off. There seems to be no rhyme or reason regarding the on/off schedule. At first, I was told it had to be over 28 degrees in the staffroom, and after the date of July 1, for the air conditioning to be on. But now, those two requirements have been filled. And yet I am sweating like a pig.
This is summer in Japan. Occasionally, a bug or two enters the staffroom. Sometimes it’s a wasp, sometimes a mosquito, sometimes a fly, sometimes a bumblebee. Heck, we’ve even had a bird. Other times, I am so cold from the air conditioning blasting right at me (due to my unfortunate seating position) that I need to put on a sweater even though it’s 30 degrees outside. But mostly, I’m just hot. And my mind is fuzzy.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Genki desu ka?
Today I had a health check at work, Japanese-style. Interesting experience. People were very nice about it, everyone was very polite and respectful, but overall, it was a little disconcerting.
It all started last week when I received a strange envelope from a colleague, who told me there would be a health exam on Tuesday. I opened the package to find 4 sheets covered in kanji, plus a small plastic container and bottle. I deduced that the bottle was for a urine sample, but everything else was a complete mystery.
Well, today rolled around, and before I knew it, I was in line for my first health check in Japan. After queuing up behind several other colleagues, I presented my chart to the health worker. Needless to say, I hadn’t filled in anything because I couldn’t read it, and no one had even mentioned that I needed to fill anything in! The principal was summoned and he kindly used his excellent English skills to translate for me. All the questions were about diet and exercise. Did I exercise 3 times a week? Did I drink less than 180ml of alcohol when I drank? Did I eat faster or slower than other people my age? Did I eat within 2 hours before bed?
I was then subjected to a chest x-ray, presumably to check for tuberculosis (which is apparently still a common health concern in Japan). The technician was male, and luckily I was wearing an undershirt, otherwise I would have had to be naked on top! Next was a waist measurement. Despite the fact that I am quite clearly not overweight, it had to be measured. (Japan is currently introducing nationwide waist measurement guidelines which everyone is supposed to conform to regardless of build, height, weight, etc.) In my haste to get dressed I forgot to tuck in my undershirt, which evoked an embarrassed giggle from the health check lady. She didn’t let me leave the room until I tucked it in.
Moving along the assembly line, I had my height and weight measured and entered into the computer to ensure I had a healthy BMI. Next were hearing and eye tests, and finally blood work. Being practically illiterate in Japanese, and not having had anyone inform me there would be a blood test, I didn’t know NOT to eat breakfast that morning. So my blood sample will undoubtedly show a high glucose reading and other such unacceptable things.
And- 終わります！(finished) I might mention that all of this, except the x-ray and waist measurement, was conducted in front of my workmates. Completely public. I personally didn’t have a problem with that, but there is little sympathy for people who might be embarrassed about their weight or anxious about medical tests. It felt a bit like boot camp induction.
I noticed that only the fairly young teachers were being tested today, so probably this round of checks is focusing on prevention of metabolic syndrome, or メタボ (metabo) in Japanese. It’s their code word for being fat, having a bad diet and lack of exercise. I recently read an interesting article about the newest health campaign in Japan- the fight against metabo.(http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/13/world/asia/13fat.html?_r=2&hp&oref=slogin&oref=slogin) The government is going to start fining local governments and companies whose people fail to meet national waist measurement guidelines. There’s a whole marketing system going on, complete with catchy songs:
"…at a city gym in Amagasaki recently, dozens of residents — few of whom appeared overweight — danced to the city’s anti-metabo song, which warned against trouser buttons popping and flying away, “pyun-pyun-pyun!”
“Goodbye, metabolic. Let’s get our checkups together. Go! Go! Go!
Goodbye, metabolic. Don’t wait till you get sick. No! No! No!”
While I’m talking about health campaigns- in Japan, standardized health information is periodically distributed to schools, offices and companies. There’s a bulletin board at my school on which different posters appear every so often, informing students and staff about health issues they should watch for. In summer it’s heat stroke and sunburn, in winter it’s frostbite, and the rest of the year, it’s things like athlete’s foot, muscle injuries, coldsores, TB, gum disease, HIV and various other intriguing conditions. Invariably, the posters feature cute cartoons right alongside very graphic photos.
On top of that, we are given health newsletters every two weeks, containing useful advice like what to eat for breakfast, how to stretch, and how to treat a cold. There seems to be a particular emphasis on maintaining a daily body rhythm (‘keeping it regular’)!
Of course I think that raising awareness of obesity and encouraging people to live healthy lives can only be a good thing. But it’s hard not to question the effectiveness of the campaign in Japan. True, there are few overweight people here, especially compared to countries like the US and Australia. But at the same time, I don’t feel that the Japanese really live particularly healthy lifestyles. They still eat bowls and bowls of white rice every day, drink like fish, eat few raw vegetables, and gorge on fast food. Fruit and vegetables are astronomically expensive. You will see people lining up at Mister Donut with trays piled high with donuts- 6 per person, even (or especially) for skinny little high school girls. I honestly don’t know how people stay so small and slim. All I know is that excessive dieting does not seem to be considered a bad thing. Women’s magazines recommend eating energy bars for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And since there seems to be little awareness or concern about eating disorders, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the girls in my classes were bordering on bulimic. Most of them swear they are ‘fat’, even though their legs are barely thicker than my arms.
In spite of all the apparent efforts to prevent diabetes, heart disease and stroke by controlling people’s waistlines, smoking is still prevalent here in Japan. There is no negative stigma attached to it. In that respect, Japan feels like a smoker’s paradise: there are smoking rooms everywhere, vending machines sell cigarettes on almost every corner, and smoking sections in restaurants tend to be bigger and nicer than non-smoking ones.
I can’t help but feel that this latest national health campaign is not only about making everyone healthier, but also about controlling people (all that work we did on Foucault’s ideas- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michel_Foucault- in anthropology still haunts me). I won’t launch into a thesis, but I resent the fact that one’s workplace should be able schedule and control something as personal as a health exam. But, I guess maybe it’s preferable to having people avoid the doctor, and it’s nice that it’s free.
I’m sure in a few weeks I will receive another mysterious envelope containing reams of paper covered with kanji. And if it says I have TB or anaemia, who am I to know? Better brush up on that Japanese medical jargon!
It all started last week when I received a strange envelope from a colleague, who told me there would be a health exam on Tuesday. I opened the package to find 4 sheets covered in kanji, plus a small plastic container and bottle. I deduced that the bottle was for a urine sample, but everything else was a complete mystery.
Well, today rolled around, and before I knew it, I was in line for my first health check in Japan. After queuing up behind several other colleagues, I presented my chart to the health worker. Needless to say, I hadn’t filled in anything because I couldn’t read it, and no one had even mentioned that I needed to fill anything in! The principal was summoned and he kindly used his excellent English skills to translate for me. All the questions were about diet and exercise. Did I exercise 3 times a week? Did I drink less than 180ml of alcohol when I drank? Did I eat faster or slower than other people my age? Did I eat within 2 hours before bed?
I was then subjected to a chest x-ray, presumably to check for tuberculosis (which is apparently still a common health concern in Japan). The technician was male, and luckily I was wearing an undershirt, otherwise I would have had to be naked on top! Next was a waist measurement. Despite the fact that I am quite clearly not overweight, it had to be measured. (Japan is currently introducing nationwide waist measurement guidelines which everyone is supposed to conform to regardless of build, height, weight, etc.) In my haste to get dressed I forgot to tuck in my undershirt, which evoked an embarrassed giggle from the health check lady. She didn’t let me leave the room until I tucked it in.
Moving along the assembly line, I had my height and weight measured and entered into the computer to ensure I had a healthy BMI. Next were hearing and eye tests, and finally blood work. Being practically illiterate in Japanese, and not having had anyone inform me there would be a blood test, I didn’t know NOT to eat breakfast that morning. So my blood sample will undoubtedly show a high glucose reading and other such unacceptable things.
And- 終わります！(finished) I might mention that all of this, except the x-ray and waist measurement, was conducted in front of my workmates. Completely public. I personally didn’t have a problem with that, but there is little sympathy for people who might be embarrassed about their weight or anxious about medical tests. It felt a bit like boot camp induction.
I noticed that only the fairly young teachers were being tested today, so probably this round of checks is focusing on prevention of metabolic syndrome, or メタボ (metabo) in Japanese. It’s their code word for being fat, having a bad diet and lack of exercise. I recently read an interesting article about the newest health campaign in Japan- the fight against metabo.(http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/13/world/asia/13fat.html?_r=2&hp&oref=slogin&oref=slogin) The government is going to start fining local governments and companies whose people fail to meet national waist measurement guidelines. There’s a whole marketing system going on, complete with catchy songs:
"…at a city gym in Amagasaki recently, dozens of residents — few of whom appeared overweight — danced to the city’s anti-metabo song, which warned against trouser buttons popping and flying away, “pyun-pyun-pyun!”
“Goodbye, metabolic. Let’s get our checkups together. Go! Go! Go!
Goodbye, metabolic. Don’t wait till you get sick. No! No! No!”
While I’m talking about health campaigns- in Japan, standardized health information is periodically distributed to schools, offices and companies. There’s a bulletin board at my school on which different posters appear every so often, informing students and staff about health issues they should watch for. In summer it’s heat stroke and sunburn, in winter it’s frostbite, and the rest of the year, it’s things like athlete’s foot, muscle injuries, coldsores, TB, gum disease, HIV and various other intriguing conditions. Invariably, the posters feature cute cartoons right alongside very graphic photos.
On top of that, we are given health newsletters every two weeks, containing useful advice like what to eat for breakfast, how to stretch, and how to treat a cold. There seems to be a particular emphasis on maintaining a daily body rhythm (‘keeping it regular’)!
Of course I think that raising awareness of obesity and encouraging people to live healthy lives can only be a good thing. But it’s hard not to question the effectiveness of the campaign in Japan. True, there are few overweight people here, especially compared to countries like the US and Australia. But at the same time, I don’t feel that the Japanese really live particularly healthy lifestyles. They still eat bowls and bowls of white rice every day, drink like fish, eat few raw vegetables, and gorge on fast food. Fruit and vegetables are astronomically expensive. You will see people lining up at Mister Donut with trays piled high with donuts- 6 per person, even (or especially) for skinny little high school girls. I honestly don’t know how people stay so small and slim. All I know is that excessive dieting does not seem to be considered a bad thing. Women’s magazines recommend eating energy bars for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And since there seems to be little awareness or concern about eating disorders, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the girls in my classes were bordering on bulimic. Most of them swear they are ‘fat’, even though their legs are barely thicker than my arms.
In spite of all the apparent efforts to prevent diabetes, heart disease and stroke by controlling people’s waistlines, smoking is still prevalent here in Japan. There is no negative stigma attached to it. In that respect, Japan feels like a smoker’s paradise: there are smoking rooms everywhere, vending machines sell cigarettes on almost every corner, and smoking sections in restaurants tend to be bigger and nicer than non-smoking ones.
I can’t help but feel that this latest national health campaign is not only about making everyone healthier, but also about controlling people (all that work we did on Foucault’s ideas- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michel_Foucault- in anthropology still haunts me). I won’t launch into a thesis, but I resent the fact that one’s workplace should be able schedule and control something as personal as a health exam. But, I guess maybe it’s preferable to having people avoid the doctor, and it’s nice that it’s free.
I’m sure in a few weeks I will receive another mysterious envelope containing reams of paper covered with kanji. And if it says I have TB or anaemia, who am I to know? Better brush up on that Japanese medical jargon!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Season of Change
April really is a time for new beginnings in Japan. We go on and on about the New Year back home, but it pales in significance compared to what is effectively the New Year in Japan- April 1st. (The New Year in Australia is particularly uneventful given that at least half the urban population is lying on the beach for the whole first half of January!)
April in Japan is the beginning of the new school year, the new fiscal year for the government, the new work year, and the season of sakura. Most companies have one big intake of new employees per year- in April. I’ve heard that this really puts the pressure on new university graduates as far as job-hunting goes, because they only have one chance per year- if they are not successful for April entry to a company, that’s their opportunity gone for that year.
To add to all this, Japan has a monopoly on ‘new beginnings’ symbolism- the importance of sakura here really cannot be overemphasized. I was talking with another teacher the other day about new school years and she said that Japan will never change its school/work year schedule because people feel that graduation and commencement ceremonies just would not be the same without sakura around. In March, clothing stores start to sell outfits meant specifically for wearing to the numerous ceremonies that take place around this time. Without fail, the displays will incorporate faux sakura. My local mall has a special sakura indoor ‘park’- some park benches and fake grass under the branches of some erstaz cherry trees. Ironically, the real thing is only a 5 minute drive away. But it just goes to show how important it is for Japanese people to be surrounded by as much sakura as possible during late March and early April! Cherry blossom season is such a big deal that I see it as the reason why Easter has never taken off here. True, Japan isn't a Christian country, but that hasn’t stopped them flogging Christmas for all it’s worth. So I was a little surprised that I didn’t see an emergence of bunnies/chicks/eggs/tulip decorations in stores during March (just like I saw an abundance of Halloween decorations in October and Christmas trinkets in December). But now I realize that the national sakura obsession means there’s no room for anything else!
With the approach of the new school year, there have been lots of changes at work. Firstly, every year on a certain day in March, teachers are informed of their placements for the next year. They have just over two weeks until they will be teaching at their new school. Teachers seem to have little control over where they work- the prefectural (state) Board of Education shuffles them around every few years. It almost seems like they are in the military in that sense; theoretically a teacher could be moved to any school in the prefecture, and if that happens to be far away, they might have to uproot their whole family to go work at whatever school the bigwigs have chosen. The average stay for a teacher in one school is three years, but the more experienced they are, the longer they tend to stay. Younger teachers tend to be placed in more rural (ie. less desirable) areas.
A grand total of 17 teachers (out of 40) were transferred from my school in March. This is the biggest staff change-over in school lore. One of the transferred teachers was one of my favourite JTEs(Japanese Teacher of English), Yamada-sensei. He was a very warmhearted guy who was so kind that he had a hard time even telling students off for using cell phones in class. (This of course caused problems of its own – the students walked all over him - but he was a very nice man). No one wanted him to leave, least of all him. He was transferred from our school (a so-called ‘Super English School’ because it has a special English program), with 12 English staff, to a technical high school (focusing on electronics) with only 4 English teachers. Sounded like a demotion to me! At the farewell party, Yamada-sensei told me and the other ALT (with tears in his eyes!) that we were the best ALTs he’d ever worked with, and made us promise to visit him if we ever returned to Japan after JET.
Another of my favourite JTEs, Hiramitsu-sensei (the one who invited me over for seafood feasts) retired. She’s an incredibly youthful woman who vows to spend her retirement mastering the saxophone, doing Yoga, reading and traveling.
With the departure of 17 teachers came the arrival of 17 new teachers from various schools around Gifu prefecture. Plus a new principal, who has turned out to be very friendly and superb at English (almost native level!). Such comings and goings are officially marked by school closing and opening ceremonies... which are less than 2 weeks apart. And which, from my perspective, were practically identical: a ridiculous amount of standing, bowing, sitting, and a few speeches (of which I understood only a few words). Unlike elementary and junior high ceremonies, some of which I hear involve talent-show-esque performances by teachers in an attempt to win over the students, senior high ceremonies are dull affairs indeed. The opening ceremony actually felt a lot like church to me, minus the music (unless you count the school song), gilded robes (everyone wears a black suit)and stained-glass windows (it was held in the gym).
Closing ceremony of 2007 school year, March- saying farewell to the teachers who have been transferred. Had me on the edge of my seat.
Opening ceremony of 2008 school year, April- welcoming the new teachers. Wow, so drastically different to anything I'd ever experienced before. I had no idea what was coming next.
The other big new-year-related change is the annual desk migration. About half the desks in my staff room now have ‘strangers’ sitting at them. We ALTs seem to remain eternally banished to the back corner of the staff room, but my supervisor was moved to a staff room in another building. Well, she's now my ex-supervisor. As of April 1 I have a new supervisor, who's a new teacher that I’ve barely spoken three words to. I don’t even know which office he’s in! I simply heard by word-of-mouth that he’s my new supervisor; we have never been introduced. I suppose I should have figured out by now that if I want to know something, I have to ask, because it’s rare for my colleagues to approach me with information. In Japan especially, I think there is the attitude that unless it's absolutely necessary, giving information is intruding or imposing in some way. Having said that, what I liked about my old supervisor was her approachability and willingness to keep me informed of things. I just have a feeling that my new supervisor might be a little lacking in that department.
Anyway, good, bad, or neutral, I'll adapt. After all, as the sakura tell us, nothing endures, everything is transient.
April in Japan is the beginning of the new school year, the new fiscal year for the government, the new work year, and the season of sakura. Most companies have one big intake of new employees per year- in April. I’ve heard that this really puts the pressure on new university graduates as far as job-hunting goes, because they only have one chance per year- if they are not successful for April entry to a company, that’s their opportunity gone for that year.
To add to all this, Japan has a monopoly on ‘new beginnings’ symbolism- the importance of sakura here really cannot be overemphasized. I was talking with another teacher the other day about new school years and she said that Japan will never change its school/work year schedule because people feel that graduation and commencement ceremonies just would not be the same without sakura around. In March, clothing stores start to sell outfits meant specifically for wearing to the numerous ceremonies that take place around this time. Without fail, the displays will incorporate faux sakura. My local mall has a special sakura indoor ‘park’- some park benches and fake grass under the branches of some erstaz cherry trees. Ironically, the real thing is only a 5 minute drive away. But it just goes to show how important it is for Japanese people to be surrounded by as much sakura as possible during late March and early April! Cherry blossom season is such a big deal that I see it as the reason why Easter has never taken off here. True, Japan isn't a Christian country, but that hasn’t stopped them flogging Christmas for all it’s worth. So I was a little surprised that I didn’t see an emergence of bunnies/chicks/eggs/tulip decorations in stores during March (just like I saw an abundance of Halloween decorations in October and Christmas trinkets in December). But now I realize that the national sakura obsession means there’s no room for anything else!
With the approach of the new school year, there have been lots of changes at work. Firstly, every year on a certain day in March, teachers are informed of their placements for the next year. They have just over two weeks until they will be teaching at their new school. Teachers seem to have little control over where they work- the prefectural (state) Board of Education shuffles them around every few years. It almost seems like they are in the military in that sense; theoretically a teacher could be moved to any school in the prefecture, and if that happens to be far away, they might have to uproot their whole family to go work at whatever school the bigwigs have chosen. The average stay for a teacher in one school is three years, but the more experienced they are, the longer they tend to stay. Younger teachers tend to be placed in more rural (ie. less desirable) areas.
A grand total of 17 teachers (out of 40) were transferred from my school in March. This is the biggest staff change-over in school lore. One of the transferred teachers was one of my favourite JTEs(Japanese Teacher of English), Yamada-sensei. He was a very warmhearted guy who was so kind that he had a hard time even telling students off for using cell phones in class. (This of course caused problems of its own – the students walked all over him - but he was a very nice man). No one wanted him to leave, least of all him. He was transferred from our school (a so-called ‘Super English School’ because it has a special English program), with 12 English staff, to a technical high school (focusing on electronics) with only 4 English teachers. Sounded like a demotion to me! At the farewell party, Yamada-sensei told me and the other ALT (with tears in his eyes!) that we were the best ALTs he’d ever worked with, and made us promise to visit him if we ever returned to Japan after JET.
Another of my favourite JTEs, Hiramitsu-sensei (the one who invited me over for seafood feasts) retired. She’s an incredibly youthful woman who vows to spend her retirement mastering the saxophone, doing Yoga, reading and traveling.
With the departure of 17 teachers came the arrival of 17 new teachers from various schools around Gifu prefecture. Plus a new principal, who has turned out to be very friendly and superb at English (almost native level!). Such comings and goings are officially marked by school closing and opening ceremonies... which are less than 2 weeks apart. And which, from my perspective, were practically identical: a ridiculous amount of standing, bowing, sitting, and a few speeches (of which I understood only a few words). Unlike elementary and junior high ceremonies, some of which I hear involve talent-show-esque performances by teachers in an attempt to win over the students, senior high ceremonies are dull affairs indeed. The opening ceremony actually felt a lot like church to me, minus the music (unless you count the school song), gilded robes (everyone wears a black suit)and stained-glass windows (it was held in the gym).
Closing ceremony of 2007 school year, March- saying farewell to the teachers who have been transferred. Had me on the edge of my seat.
Opening ceremony of 2008 school year, April- welcoming the new teachers. Wow, so drastically different to anything I'd ever experienced before. I had no idea what was coming next.
The other big new-year-related change is the annual desk migration. About half the desks in my staff room now have ‘strangers’ sitting at them. We ALTs seem to remain eternally banished to the back corner of the staff room, but my supervisor was moved to a staff room in another building. Well, she's now my ex-supervisor. As of April 1 I have a new supervisor, who's a new teacher that I’ve barely spoken three words to. I don’t even know which office he’s in! I simply heard by word-of-mouth that he’s my new supervisor; we have never been introduced. I suppose I should have figured out by now that if I want to know something, I have to ask, because it’s rare for my colleagues to approach me with information. In Japan especially, I think there is the attitude that unless it's absolutely necessary, giving information is intruding or imposing in some way. Having said that, what I liked about my old supervisor was her approachability and willingness to keep me informed of things. I just have a feeling that my new supervisor might be a little lacking in that department.
Anyway, good, bad, or neutral, I'll adapt. After all, as the sakura tell us, nothing endures, everything is transient.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Maiden Blog Voyage
So, the first blog entry for my living/working/travelling in Japan experience. Where to start? I'm sitting in my tatami room with the laptop on (where else), my lap, having finally mustered up the courage to write about the not-so-momentous accumulation of events that is my life in Gifu, Japan. I guess I've avoided starting because I've felt like I needed something outrageous to happen before I could justify broadcasting it on the internet. But, having been here for over a month, I think I see a pattern emerging. And it's safe to say there that just like my life in Australia, there won't be many dramas to report. But my friends here (fellow JETs, ie. people on the JET Programme), they're another story. Just a sample:
-One JET jumped off a bridge into the river and did not execute the water-entry properly, fracturing his collar bone and bruising his kidneys (according to the japanese doctors);
-Another was involved in a small car accident in which paint was scraped off her car, after which she spent hours at the police station and hours more being berated by her supervisors for bringing shame upon herself, the school, all teachers, all JETs, all fellow Canadians, the prefecture, her students, the principal, the Board of Education, and probably the local monkey population too;
-Another is taking 3 kinds of medication, following the appearance of mysterious insect bites all over her body, ongoing digestion problems, and the swelling up of her lip to 4 times the size, which occured spontaneously at 4am one morning; -Yet another has returned home after only 1 month... apparently the JET Programme wasn't for her... a conclusion she conveniently reached immediately after the conclusion of all the new JET welcome events, parties and organized tours.
Anyway, I guess I can thank my lucky stars none of these calamities have befallen me. Still, maybe a minor disaster would be preferable to the rather predictable routine I have fallen into. An example of my day:Alarm goes off at 7:30; snooze til 7:40. Eat cereal from miniature box of 'genmai flakes' (I dont know what genmai is). Select work outfit from the 3 shirts and 2 pairs of pants I currently own. Get dressed. Pack bag with 5 English textbooks I meant to use for lesson-planning last night. Leave apartment; get on bike. Ride bike one of two routes to school: down the main street, where I'm stared at by the driver of every single passing car, or through the rice paddies, where I invariably take the wrong route and end up entering the driveway of a factory. Arrive at school 8:20. Pass soccer players changing shirts; get stared down. Park bike, walk to shoe sheds to change from 'outdoor' to 'indoor' shoes. Walk 20 meters on filthy concrete in 'indoor' shoes to get to school entrance. Enter school; greet fellow teachers chirpily. Enter staffroom; feel guilty for not bowing low enough to vice principal. Reach desk; greet different teachers. Put bag down, sit there fanning myself for 5 minutes because air conditioner has not been turned on- again. Wait for teachers' meeting to begin... will it? won't it? (it seems to occur on randomly chosen days and at 8:25 precisely). Sit, pretending to look interested even though everyone knows I can't understand what they're saying.I think that's enough of a taste for now. Next entry I'll lift the veil on the events of 9am to 4pm.
P.S. Don't think I'm not enjoying my time here; I AM. I'm just trying to demonstrate that my life here is not one big backpacking trip, but has the potential to be just as monotonous as life anywhere else... except at least it's an INTERESTING monotony!
-One JET jumped off a bridge into the river and did not execute the water-entry properly, fracturing his collar bone and bruising his kidneys (according to the japanese doctors);
-Another was involved in a small car accident in which paint was scraped off her car, after which she spent hours at the police station and hours more being berated by her supervisors for bringing shame upon herself, the school, all teachers, all JETs, all fellow Canadians, the prefecture, her students, the principal, the Board of Education, and probably the local monkey population too;
-Another is taking 3 kinds of medication, following the appearance of mysterious insect bites all over her body, ongoing digestion problems, and the swelling up of her lip to 4 times the size, which occured spontaneously at 4am one morning; -Yet another has returned home after only 1 month... apparently the JET Programme wasn't for her... a conclusion she conveniently reached immediately after the conclusion of all the new JET welcome events, parties and organized tours.
Anyway, I guess I can thank my lucky stars none of these calamities have befallen me. Still, maybe a minor disaster would be preferable to the rather predictable routine I have fallen into. An example of my day:Alarm goes off at 7:30; snooze til 7:40. Eat cereal from miniature box of 'genmai flakes' (I dont know what genmai is). Select work outfit from the 3 shirts and 2 pairs of pants I currently own. Get dressed. Pack bag with 5 English textbooks I meant to use for lesson-planning last night. Leave apartment; get on bike. Ride bike one of two routes to school: down the main street, where I'm stared at by the driver of every single passing car, or through the rice paddies, where I invariably take the wrong route and end up entering the driveway of a factory. Arrive at school 8:20. Pass soccer players changing shirts; get stared down. Park bike, walk to shoe sheds to change from 'outdoor' to 'indoor' shoes. Walk 20 meters on filthy concrete in 'indoor' shoes to get to school entrance. Enter school; greet fellow teachers chirpily. Enter staffroom; feel guilty for not bowing low enough to vice principal. Reach desk; greet different teachers. Put bag down, sit there fanning myself for 5 minutes because air conditioner has not been turned on- again. Wait for teachers' meeting to begin... will it? won't it? (it seems to occur on randomly chosen days and at 8:25 precisely). Sit, pretending to look interested even though everyone knows I can't understand what they're saying.I think that's enough of a taste for now. Next entry I'll lift the veil on the events of 9am to 4pm.
P.S. Don't think I'm not enjoying my time here; I AM. I'm just trying to demonstrate that my life here is not one big backpacking trip, but has the potential to be just as monotonous as life anywhere else... except at least it's an INTERESTING monotony!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go
Well, here I am at the end of another week at K Senior High School... and it`s really been the most eventful week so far, given that for the first three weeks I only came into work 60 percent of the days and the time I was here was spent distributing `Australian candy` (nougat, because it was the only thing I could think to bring that wouldn`t melt in the 40-degree heat) and trying to look busy.
So, now I can actually answer the question `how are your classes?`. I`ve had 9 classes this week, and most of them were self-introduction lessons, meaning I had to tell the students about Australia, Melbourne, me, etc… I think I`ve worked out a good routine now, which involves handing out photos of me, Melbourne, school, uni, my house, work, family, and friends.
I have to teach all levels of high school, which is years 9-12 here in Japan, or as they say, first, second and third grade (of high school). It`s only certain classes though- the listening and oral communication and culture classes. I think they have a lot of other classes that focus on grammar- we all know how boring that is. So I`m trying to get them to enjoy what I teach them, but it is SO HARD TO TELL… Japanese generally do not like to express emotion when they are in a group. This of course means that I am standing in front of the class, trying to ask them a question like `did you enjoy your weekend?`, and I get blank stares and poker faces from 40 students. Well, that`s an extreme example, but still, it`s the general vibe of students here… at least now. Maybe when they get to know me better they will be less `catatonic zombie` and more `normal human being`. Anyway, I`m pretty sure it`s not just me; other ALTs have noticed the same thing, so I guess it`s cultural. Having said that, in many classes, talking, or even sleeping in class is not actively discouraged. So I`ve had to contend with that too.
I teach with about 7 different teachers, some every week, others every two weeks (and I don`t know when I`ll ever get my head around the schedule). A couple are really organized and like to plan the lessons themselves, but the others, well, they want me to basically take over, and they will just `observe` (read: sit in the corner and stare at a book).
And now, for your pleasure, I present… Key moments in the inauguration of Jess as an ALT:
-10 Japanese high school girls squealing `kawaii` (cute) when I stuck a toy kangaroo on the blackboard (it had magnets in its paws)
-being asked in every class about my cat, her name and age… to which I have to respond by pretending that she still actually exists!
-asking `what did you do in your summer holidays?` and receiving the reply `I came to school` from way too many students
-facing my own mortality after a whole class of students swore they felt an earthquake (which mysteriously, neither I, nor the other ALT, nor the Japanese teacher were able to detect)
-witnessing pre-class female grooming practices: they take out 20cm x 20cm mirrors, on stands, and brush each others` hair
-catching a glimpse of something I didn`t want to see as one girl walked up the stairs. Let me just say they wear their skirts really short here.
-being greeted with a friendly `harro!` by the rugby players every morning as they change into their school uniforms near the bicycle parking spots
-being laughed at because of the holes in my (Australian-made, I will point out) socks (we have to change from `outdoor` shoes to `indoor` shoes in the morning)
-waking up 2 students from their naps so they could do a worksheet
-watching a teacher fall asleep at her desk
-trying to fake empathy when the Japanese teacher next to me sighs loudly and says for the 50th time in one day, atsui, ne? (hot, isn`t it?)
-being left alone in the staffroom (for 30 people) with only the Vice Principal for company- he at the `important people` end of the room, and me at the `shit kicker` end
-hearing stories of the ongoing dramas of my fellow ALTs (attack of the killer Japanese bugs; destruction of mobile phone by toilet water; interrogation by Japanese police after extremely minor car accident; stalking by slightly mentally impaired 16-year-old Japanese boy; bruising of kidneys and fracture of breastbone after jumping off a bridge...- and that`s only from 3 people!) and wondering why my life here is so boring
Ah, yes, `tis a life of adventure…
So, now I can actually answer the question `how are your classes?`. I`ve had 9 classes this week, and most of them were self-introduction lessons, meaning I had to tell the students about Australia, Melbourne, me, etc… I think I`ve worked out a good routine now, which involves handing out photos of me, Melbourne, school, uni, my house, work, family, and friends.
I have to teach all levels of high school, which is years 9-12 here in Japan, or as they say, first, second and third grade (of high school). It`s only certain classes though- the listening and oral communication and culture classes. I think they have a lot of other classes that focus on grammar- we all know how boring that is. So I`m trying to get them to enjoy what I teach them, but it is SO HARD TO TELL… Japanese generally do not like to express emotion when they are in a group. This of course means that I am standing in front of the class, trying to ask them a question like `did you enjoy your weekend?`, and I get blank stares and poker faces from 40 students. Well, that`s an extreme example, but still, it`s the general vibe of students here… at least now. Maybe when they get to know me better they will be less `catatonic zombie` and more `normal human being`. Anyway, I`m pretty sure it`s not just me; other ALTs have noticed the same thing, so I guess it`s cultural. Having said that, in many classes, talking, or even sleeping in class is not actively discouraged. So I`ve had to contend with that too.
I teach with about 7 different teachers, some every week, others every two weeks (and I don`t know when I`ll ever get my head around the schedule). A couple are really organized and like to plan the lessons themselves, but the others, well, they want me to basically take over, and they will just `observe` (read: sit in the corner and stare at a book).
And now, for your pleasure, I present… Key moments in the inauguration of Jess as an ALT:
-10 Japanese high school girls squealing `kawaii` (cute) when I stuck a toy kangaroo on the blackboard (it had magnets in its paws)
-being asked in every class about my cat, her name and age… to which I have to respond by pretending that she still actually exists!
-asking `what did you do in your summer holidays?` and receiving the reply `I came to school` from way too many students
-facing my own mortality after a whole class of students swore they felt an earthquake (which mysteriously, neither I, nor the other ALT, nor the Japanese teacher were able to detect)
-witnessing pre-class female grooming practices: they take out 20cm x 20cm mirrors, on stands, and brush each others` hair
-catching a glimpse of something I didn`t want to see as one girl walked up the stairs. Let me just say they wear their skirts really short here.
-being greeted with a friendly `harro!` by the rugby players every morning as they change into their school uniforms near the bicycle parking spots
-being laughed at because of the holes in my (Australian-made, I will point out) socks (we have to change from `outdoor` shoes to `indoor` shoes in the morning)
-waking up 2 students from their naps so they could do a worksheet
-watching a teacher fall asleep at her desk
-trying to fake empathy when the Japanese teacher next to me sighs loudly and says for the 50th time in one day, atsui, ne? (hot, isn`t it?)
-being left alone in the staffroom (for 30 people) with only the Vice Principal for company- he at the `important people` end of the room, and me at the `shit kicker` end
-hearing stories of the ongoing dramas of my fellow ALTs (attack of the killer Japanese bugs; destruction of mobile phone by toilet water; interrogation by Japanese police after extremely minor car accident; stalking by slightly mentally impaired 16-year-old Japanese boy; bruising of kidneys and fracture of breastbone after jumping off a bridge...- and that`s only from 3 people!) and wondering why my life here is so boring
Ah, yes, `tis a life of adventure…
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