Getting nostalgic...

Tick...tick...tick...

There’s only about a month left until I’m done with teaching on the JET Programme. Until I’m out of my apartment; until I can no longer call myself an ALT. This is a pretty scary thought. But it’s an idea I’ve been getting used to over the past few months. When the day came to sign the paper saying I wouldn’t be recontracting, I could barely bring myself to do it. Nevertheless I did, and while I didn’t feel great about it afterwards, I knew I was making a good decision. Something had been telling me to move onwards and upwards (whatever that entails).

There were times in the weeks following that I felt compelled to walk up to my supervisor and exclaim “It was a mistake! Take me back! I want to stay!” But there were also times when I sat at my desk at work with nothing to do, wondering when the day would come when I would feel like I had actually earned my paycheck. And I’ve been comforted by the fact that eventually I would be leaving Japan anyway, if not this year, next year, and I think leaving might only get harder the longer I stay.

Pros and cons aside, there’s a lot of things I’ll miss about Japan. (Besides the friends I've made and the places I've visited.) Superficial or profound, they’ve made living in Gifu one of the best times in my life.

Safety and Cleanliness
These are a given- I don’t need to elaborate. It’s Japan. While occasionally the level of order and sanitation have seemed almost stifling, for the most part I pity myself and other foreigners who have to return to their comparatively anarchic and filthy homelands.

Vending Machines
They’re ubiquitous: on train platforms, in office buildings, on random street corners, in the middle of rice fields. Even at the holiest of places, temples and shrines. The choice of beverages is mindblowing: no two machines have the same selection. In summer, the drinks quench your thirst and deliver welcome coolness to your sweat-drenched body. In winter, cans serve as hand-warmers as well as suppliers of sweet, sweet coffee. But the machines themselves can seem a little sinister, especially at night. Always awake. Always on. Always glowing with that eerie fluorescent light. Despite their convenience, I fear that one day they’ll all come to life, and Japan will no longer be the place to be. hehe

Combinis
This appreciation goes along with my love of vending machines. Some of my fondest memories in Japan have been of late night / early morning drunken combini runs. I’m embarrassed to think of the number of combini attendants we’ve shocked and amused with our intoxicated foreignness. Japanese combinis are unsurpassed in their ability to give you what you need, now. Especially when that happens to be another beer, a box of Pocky and a ginger ‘anti-hangover’ drink.

(I realize that vending machines and combinis are two of the worst offenders as far as non-sustainable living goes. But they’ve been one of my indulgences over my two years here. If I lived here any longer, I’d probably feel the need to kick my addiction.)

Sashimi


Speaking of non-sustainable living, I’ve been feeling slightly guilty about my love of sashimi. Today I found a website listing the world's most endangered fish and many of the sea creatures commonly found in sushi are classified as “eco-worst” fish. Japan is probably one of the countries least concerned about overfishing, which unfortunately makes sense, given that their diet, and to a large extent culture, is based on seafood.

Matsuri
A Japanese festival is a feast for the senses. Even after two years here, when other things have become humdrum and mundane, I'm still in awe of festivals. They’re incredibly diverse and you can enjoy them on so many different levels. If you just wanna get out, get drunk and take surreal photos for Facebook, they’ve got you covered. If you want to witness a rare cultural ritual and learn about another aspect of Buddhist or Shinto beliefs, you can do that. And if you want to get really deep, and ponder what that ice sculpture symbolizes about 21st-century Japanese identity, go ahead. There must be a festival on somewhere every day of the year in Japan, and there are big ones, small ones, famous ones and obscure ones. One frustration though, has been that often they’re held on a certain date, which means that if a cool festival is happening a few hours away on a Wednesday night, you miss out.

The Seasons
Despite what Nihonjin like to believe, Japan isn’t the only country with four distinct seasons. I suppose I could be accused of not what I’m talking about, being from Melbourne where it seems like there’s only two seasons (a hot summer and a mild winter). In my defense, I’ve traveled and lived in other places with four distinct seasons before. But I suspect that the Japanese do seasonal appreciation like no one else. They’ve been observing, appreciating and haiku-ing about the changes in weather and nature for centuries, and their country lends itself well to such veneration. Sites in Japan almost require four visits- one in each season- since the same place can look so dramatically different depending on the time of year. I will miss the little touches in shops and houses here and there that correspond to the season. The hundred yen shop has been one of the most obvious indicators for me of what I should look out for and admire this month: cherry blossoms in April, autumn leaves in October, goldfish and breezes in July.

Onsen


At first, getting naked with strangers was a daunting prospect. But now, I associate onsens with freedom and relaxation- two things that are fairly hard to come by in daily life in Japan. Often, the water has been almost too hot for me to stand- actually scalding. It makes my skin red after only a minute or two, but it helps the muscles relax in a way they never do otherwise. It seems contradictory that a society otherwise so controlled and pressurized could be so committed to public bathing and relaxation in general. But I guess it’s more evidence that Japan is a land of extremes.

Bicycles
Everyone rides a bike in Japan. Kids, teenagers, salarymen, office ladies, farmers, housewives and grandmas- go outside for a few minutes and you’ll probably see an example of at least three of these, perched atop a mamachari. And nobody, except elementary school kids, wears a helmet. Bikes are given respect here: cars know to look out for them and pedestrians move out of their way. Unlike Australia, bikes are allowed on the footpath and there are mass parking areas near train stations. You don’t have to become a hard-core aerodynamic bike warrior decked out in spandex and a helmet to survive the ride to work. One of the best things about J-bikes are the baskets. Yep, at first you feel like a 5-year-old with training wheels, but soon you realize the convenience of it. The only negative aspect of bike riding in Japan that I can think of is that because everyone rides one, even the slowest and least coordinated riders are out and about. This includes ancient ojiichans who ride with their legs spread wide, oblivious to anyone who might want to pass, and then turn to gape at you when you finally do.


No Small Talk
At the risk of sounding antisocial, I’m not a big fan of the small talk that burdens us in Australia. I’m sure it’s pretty much the same in other English-speaking countries, but I have a feeling Australians engage in it more than other Westerners, having more of a group mentality than Americans, for example. Obviously it serves a useful purpose and I can fake it as well as anyone, but it can be such a drainer. In Japan, however, there seems to be a lot less small talk going on, at least of the kind I'm used to. Of course, this could be partly because I don’t speak Japanese well. But small talk isn’t really part of the culture. You learn set phrases and use them. Nobody looks down on you for parroting the same phrase every time you see them – you’re expected to say it. No “Weather’s nice today, isn’t it?” (my Nihongo textbooks made sure to teach “Ii tenki desu ne?” which I have never heard in Japan). You don’t have to think up new and creative ways to greet people throughout the day. Just a simple “Ohayoo gozaimasu” in the morning, and a head nod for subsequent greetings. Sure, it can seem fake and insincere, but so can the elaborate attempts we make in the West. At least the Japanese way is easy, even if you do feel like you’re on autopilot sometimes.

Karaoke
I used to hate singing in front of other people. I’m not a particularly talented singer, but at least I can carry a tune (I think). Before Japan, I had only been to karaoke once in Melbourne, which is thankfully cosmopolitan enough to have a karaoke box frequented by international students. Since coming to Gifu though, it has become almost a staple in my life. The combination of some favorite songs, good friends, ironically 'heartfelt' numbers (like “The Rose” and “Circle of Life”) and alcohol- what’s not to like? Well, actually, the smell of the rooms (B.O. and cigarettes) and the hangover the next day. But overall, a karaoke night in Japan is 6 hours well spent. I still recoil at the thought of public singing, but a Shidax room with a few friends doesn’t intimidate me anymore.

Presentation
Japan is a beautiful place, in many ways. There’s a lot more nature here than the stereotyped images would suggest. Having said that, there’s way too much concrete for my liking in most urban areas, but because almost everywhere you go is clean and neat, Japanese cities are a lot kinder to the eyes than they would be otherwise. As well as the clean factor, most Japanese are incredibly preoccupied with appearances. This includes personal grooming as well as the presentation of food and objects in general. Here there’s no shame in going to any length to ensure you're perfectly presented. Even if this means going through your entire daily beauty routine on the train or stopping to fix your hair in a shop window (girls and guys alike). In stores, the clerk will spend a good 3-5 minutes carefully wrapping up whatever souvenir you’ve bought, with none of the “near enough is good enough” attitude found in other countries. The emphasis seems to be on creating the perfect look no matter what the cost. Witnessing such blatant acts of vanity can be frustrating and has occasionally made me complain that Japan must be the most superficial place on earth(!), but it shows a level of pride and attention to detail that we tend to lack in the West. Being in a place where I see this kind of thing every day has changed my attitude. Yes, it's a tired 'Japan's so Zen!' cliche, but being here, I feel less like just getting things done as quickly as possible and more able to appreciate the small things, take my time and be more patient.

生徒たち - Students

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.

Hearth & Home, Japanese-style

On a recent Sunday afternoon, I had a storybook JET experience: I visited a Japanese family’s home and spent quality down-time with them. JET is, after all, an acronym for ‘Japan Exchange and Teaching Programme’… but until now, I had felt more like I was doing much more of the latter than the former. The K family is a family of four- N-san (the mother), K-chan (9 years old), M-chan (11 years old) and the father…um, Mr.K. N-san is intensely interested in English, and she wants her kids, who learn some English at elementary school, to get to know foreign people on a real level. Until July, I worked with another ALT who was friends with this family. When she left, she introduced me to them, in the interest of continuing the foreigner-K family bonding tradition…

N called me during the week to invite me to their house on the weekend. I’m ashamed to say that at first, I had a somewhat negative attitude towards the visit. As enjoyable as it seems, talking to, playing with, and generally ‘hanging’ with Japanese people sounded suspiciously like work to me. After a year of teaching teenagers English, and occasionally visiting elementary and junior high schools, not to mention helping out at summer workshops and attending work ‘parties’, I have to say that for me, a bit of the shine has disappeared from the international exchange experience. I still mostly enjoy it, but the idea of cutting a Sunday with my friends short to do be a ‘zoo exhibit’ for a few hours didn’t exactly inspire me. Demonstrating our highly-developed sense of self-awareness, my friends and I have started calling ourselves “jaded second-years”- that is, ALTs who have been in Japan for over a year and are starting to voice our complaints about living here.

I spite of myself, I ended up having a great time. First, N drove to my house and picked me up. The girls rang my doorbell and were obviously excited at the prospect of having me as their guest. I was pretty curious about what the afternoon would entail, given that all N had said was that she would like to have me come over to her house. But I needn’t have worried – doing normal ‘Sunday at home with the family’ stuff was relaxing and fun. So what did we do? Well, number one was cooking. And therefore, eating. N and the kids – and me, throwing my clumsy gaijin hands into the mix – prepared scones (raisin, and bean-filled), kakigori (shaved ice with coloured syrup), and curry rice (Japanese curry, that is). I was particularly impressed by the kids, who were actually a lot of help to their mum – kind of like the mythical country kids we hear about from days gone by, who chopped firewood, milked the cows, gathered the eggs, and hiked 10 miles in the snow to collect the mail. Only in this case, they biked to the supermarket, bought ingredients for dinner, chopped potatoes, kneaded dough, and shaved ice. I suspect this is actually the norm in Japan… Western kids come across as extremely Bart Simpson-like, in contrast. Funny, that.

The second highlight of the day was playing with their Wii. For older readers and technophobes, this is a video game console, as close to virtual reality as the average Joe can get. In a nutshell, “a distinguishing feature is its wireless controller, which can be used as a handheld pointing device and detect movement in three dimensions.” (Thank you, Wikipedia.) The girls created a ジェシカ (Jessica) character, which involved choosing various facial features to create a cartoon that looked like me. I was a little worried that I would end up looking like the stereotypical gaijin character that features so prominently in the collective Japanese psyche (big nose, round eyes, pink skin, usually fat). But fortunately my character ended up resembling me pretty closely- as much as a pixilated cartoon portrait can, anyway.

The final icing on the cake was a mini piano concert. My ALT friend had warned me about the K family’s tendency to break into von Trapp-esque performances now and then. I was looking forward to the chance to be reunited with a piano once again- it had been over a year since I was in the same room as one. Sure enough, just before dinner, K-chan started playing from her piano books. She was pretty good, which doesn’t surprise me. A lot of Japanese kids learn the piano, and with the inordinate amount of time they spent practicing, they always end up seeming like child prodigies, even if their playing style lacks emotion. (I can comment on this because I’ve had the ‘luck’ to walk into, or past, several piano recitals in the past year, in random public places. They’re a common occurance in Japan.) Anyway, when the kids and N heard that I had learned piano for 10 years, they insisted I perform for them. So I tried to play the two songs I can always rely on my fingers to automatically remember. But it seems that after a year sans piano, I’ve forgotten parts of them! So I just played and replayed the bits I could remember.

After a dinner of curry, N insisted on sending me home with more curry for tomorrow’s lunch, freshly baked scones, and a business shirt that was too big for her… but which of course fit the bigger gaijin- me. She even drove me home, and the kids walked me to my door. It was all so sweet, and I felt guilty not being able to properly reciprocate. But I plan to buy them some wonderful omiyage this weekend, since I’m supposed to be seeing them again next week.

Beauty in the most unlikely of places

I’m obsessed with manholes. Before you declare me insane, remember- I’m in Japan. (That excuses everything!) Manholes here are works of art, seriously. Each one reminds me of an inkan- the round stamps made of ivory, wood or plastic that Japanese people use as their signatures… (Which, by the way, is the kanji for ‘ji’, ‘shi’, and ‘ka’, which mean mercy, poem and flower. So I guess that makes me a merciful flower poem.)

Anyway, as for manholes, I first noticed them several years ago on a trip to Hokkaido. Towns and cities all across Japan have their own trademark manhole designs, which vary depending on utility type (sewer, fire, telephone, gas) and manufacturer. They’re like a type of street art portraying local emblems, sites, delicacies and even cartoon characters. On my Hokkaido trip, I thought they were so artistic that I took photos of each different one I saw. Since then, I dreamt of the day when my collection could grow beyond the borders of Hokkaido. And now, living here on Honshu, I’ve had plenty of opportunities. I have photos of about 40 or 50 manholes. Of course, the nerdy collector in me is kicking myself for not documenting one in each and every city I’ve been to, but still, I think I’ve done pretty well.

I’m not the first person to be drawn to them… a quick internet search show that others are clearly taken with Japanese manholes too...
for a summary, see http://www.pinktentacle.com/2007/10/japanese-manhole-covers/
Some people (apparently Japanese) have taken it upon themselves to trek across whole regions of the country documenting the manholes in each town, and then create a manhole map (http://micio.cute.bz/map.html). But it’s okay if I’m not 100 percent original- at least I know I’ve personally stood in front of each and every one of these manholes. They’re kind of like postcards…

And I can be comforted by the knowledge that not everyone shares my love of sewer covers. My friends tend to laugh at me when I have to run to catch up to them after hanging back to photograph a manhole. But look- how can anyone not find them fascinating?!

Good ole Gifu


Ikeda, near Osaka


Ise, site of Japan's most sacred shrine...


Kobe


Matsumoto

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.

Last Night's Rumblings

Today I’ve been scaring myself. Well, not too badly, but I’ve been looking up earthquakes on the internet. Last night I experienced my first (well, biggest) earthquake. That’s not saying much, since Melbourne is not particularly seismically active, but nevertheless it was kind of a turning point for me, if I think about it.

It happened in the middle of the night and only woke me up for about 2 seconds or so. During that time I was half asleep and while my first thought was ‘earthquake’, I also convinced myself it was probably the guy upstairs jumping. I completely forgot about it until about an hour ago when a teacher sitting nearby asked me if I felt the earthquake last night. According to her, the epicenter was in Aichi, southwest of here, and it only registered 2 on the Richter scale here in Kakamigahara. (2.0-2.9 = minor; generally not felt, but recorded; there are about 1000 every day around the world).

So all that happened was I felt it- nothing fell, nothing broke. But it’s made it real for me now. Not that I’ve been complacent about earthquakes- I actually have an emergency kit in my closet (water, snacks, reflective blanket, face masks, rope, flashlight etc), which is a hell of a lot more than what most Japanese people have. According to a ‘Japan Times’ poll, only 14 percent have a survival kit and know where their local evacuation area is. This is despite the very real - in fact likely - possibility that a big earthquake will hit Japan in the near future. According to the government, there is a 30 percent chance of a 6.7-7.2 magnitude earthquake hitting the southern Kanto region ( Tokyo and surrounds) in the next decade, and a 70 percent chance in the next 30 years. My prefecture, Gifu , also has a strong possibility of a major earthquake in the near future. So, as they say, it’s not a question of if, but when.

Anyway, I’ve just spouted a lot of facts and statistics, but I feel like it’s the least I can do to be aware of them, seeing that I will be living here for the next year or so. Australia ’s spiders, snakes and sharks might strike fear into the hearts of non-Australians everywhere, but I’ll take them any day over a major earthquake!

Spring Has Sprung

Spring has come to southern Gifu, and the signs are everywhere.

1. It's warmer- finally! No more huddling in front of the heater, no more wearing my ski jacket on the way to school, no more frozen puddles to slip on when making my way into the school building. It's amazing how the body adapts to temperature though- I feel positively warm now that it's just above 15 degrees outside. When that hit me back in October, I was shivering my ass off!

2. Flower blossoms are out.
Last Sunday I went to a plum（ume, うめ、梅）blossom festival in Gifu city (at Baiorin Koen, or ‘Violin Park’, no less). It was just a small park but filled with lots and lots of plum trees. Apparently plum flowers are the first to bloom of all the fruit trees here in Japan, and while they are not quite as delicately beautiful as cherry blossoms (sakura, さくら, 桜 － the blossoms most favored by the Japanese, which won’t emerge until the end of March), they are still a very nice treat for the senses after winter. The park smelled like spring and there were plenty of Japanese families out enjoying their first ‘official’ taste of spring for the year.

Seasons here are generally welcomed in very prescribed ways- through festivals focusing on something representing the natural beauty of that season. And I have to say that of all the seasons, spring is the one I’ve been looking forward to most.

I think I was premature in my last post in saying that I will never again be surprised by anything in Japan . At the plum festival, we witnessed for the first time a very Japanese custom. The seasonal photo model. A Japanese ‘maiden’ (actually she was probably in her thirties) wearing a ‘Spring’ outfit was posing for photographers amongst the plum trees. And when I say posing, I mean it. The expressions on their faces were the fixed, vacant, spacey smile of housewives in 1950s magazine ads. There was a crowd of male photographers gathered in front of her taking pictures.

We found the whole situation hilarious and kind of bizarre. So we decided to copy her, in an ironic way, of course. Julie was braver than me, and it wasn’t long before a couple of the photographers had made their way over to where we were to take photos of this ‘gaijin sakura girl’! (Not that this was anything new to us; every time we go to a festival, someone will inevitably take a photo or three of us, without our permission and with no attempt to be discreet.)

3. Following on from the blossom theme, shops and department stores have brought out their spring merchandise. That is, you can now purchase an array of very realistic plastic sprigs of cherry and plum blossoms, beautiful sakura writing paper, postcards featuring cute furry animals frolicking among flowers, and blossom-covered dishware. And if you stop by a combini (convenience store), you can literally taste spring- in the form of a sakura-flavored Kit Kat!

4. Starting this week, at 5pm every day, my neighbourhood is treated to the sweet notes of ‘Sakura’, possibly Japan ’s most famous traditional Japanese folk song. You’d probably recognize it if you heard it.

http://classic-midi.com/midi_player/uta/uta_sakura.htm

Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Blanketing the countryside/As far as you can see./Is it a mist, or clouds?/Fragrant in the morning sun./Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Flowers in full bloom./Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Across the Spring sky/As far as you can see./Is it a mist, or clouds?/Fragrant in the air./Come now, come/Let’s look, at last!

I knew about this tradition of playing a special song – either the official town song, or a seasonal tune - over the loudspeakers in towns all over Japan , but until now, I hadn’t heard it in Kakamigahara. As corny as it sounds, it does stir the heartstrings- I look forward to hearing it again this afternoon! Am I turning Japanese?!

5. It’s ‘dust storm’ season in East Asia .

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7274718.stm

From late February to April, huge dust clouds from the Gobi Desert in China blow over to the east and collect pollution as they go, carrying it to Korea and Japan . When I first heard about this, I thought it was just another example of Japanese xenophobia (Chinese dust causes illness in Japanese!), but maybe I need to be less cynical because apparently it’s a real phenomenon. Gifu isn’t spared- over the past week I’ve noticed thick haze in the air and last night riding home I could feel and smell that the air wasn’t clear. All of this has meant an increase in the proportion of people wearing white surgical masks as they go about their business here in Japan . (In case you didn’t know, it is a Japanese custom to wear white masks covering their mouth and nose - like the ones surgeons or very very sick people wear – when they have a cold or allergies. Sometimes it makes you feel like bird flu has actually broken out here.)

While I can’t deny that Melbourne’s mild climate is nice (well, except for the drought!), I can’t help but feel that we are missing out on something by not having four distinct seasons. By Australian standards, Melbourne is ‘European’, so they say, but being so mild, we don’t get to experience the burst of spring after the relative hibernation of winter. So it’s a novelty to be here in Gifu and to experience my first full northern hemisphere calendar year and all the seasonal changes that come with it.

Token 'deep' post

It has hit me recently that I really need to be aware of not falling into a kind of ‘rut’ here in Japan . I'm only here for a short time- initially I thought one year, but now that has been lengthened to two, because the more I see the more I feel the need to see. By ‘rut’ I mean taking things for granted, and feeling like you’re going through the same routine week after week. It might seem like it would be hard to fall into a monotonous routine being on the JET Programme, being challenged every day in a foreign culture, traveling all over the country on weekends… and yes, it is an exciting life in many respects. In fact, up until now (and certainly before I arrived in Japan ) I myself thought that my life for the next year would be a whirlwind of anxiety, excitement and exhilaration. But even traveling can get to be a bit of ‘same old, same old’. I guess it’s human nature. We adapt to anything. The alien becomes foreign, the foreign becomes normal, and eventually, some of the normal becomes boring. The thing is, as much as I enjoy my weekend trips to places like Nara , Tokyo , Kyoto , Hida, Hiroshima etc., and as much as I look forward to the next Japanese seasonal matsuri (festival), since the beginning of this year, I’ve become aware that some of the ‘spark’ has gone from these otherwise strong feelings of enjoyment.

I know it’s a result of just getting used to how things are here- even, or especially, the little details. Now each experience here is tinged with a little bit of sadness/regret that nothing will ever be completely novel or surprising to me here from now on, at least not in the way that it was a few months ago. I guess it can be compared to growing up, becoming an ‘adult’ and losing that childhood innocence people are always talking about. I don’t think I can ever look upon anything in Japan- from the temples to the landscapes, to the people, to the kids, to the food, to the crazy fashions - again the same way I did when I first arrived here.
Ah, that’s life, and I think the Japanese have it right with their concept of wabi-sabi.

Then again, maybe instead of looking at all this like I’ve reached the end of some kind of journey of discovery, I should realize that I’m moving into a different phase of appreciating Japan… maybe less focused on the superficial.

Close Encounter Of The Japanese Kind

Scene: The supermarket, Wednesday 4:15pm

Him: Are you alien?

Me: [pause] Sorry?

Him: Are you alien?

Me: I'm from another country. Australia.

Him: Oh, alien. Ghostbusters! ... Are you teacher?

Me: Yes, English.

Him: I am samurai. Be careful.

Me: Oh, ok.

Brrrr

I guess I've gotten used to the cold now. Gifu city's not exactly a cold place on a world scale, but it does get colder than Melbourne in the winter. The real trouble with winter here in Japan is that central heating is not common. It seems that only the very rich, with new houses, have central heating. Everyone else makes due with small electric bar heaters, a kotatsu, or kerosene heaters. Kotatsu? It's an ingenious invention, really- I don't know why they haven't caught on everywhere in the world. A kotatsu is a low table with a heating element attached to the underside of it. You put a blanket over it and sit with your legs and most of your body underneath the blanket. The heat is trapped under the table and blanket and only your head and arms (if you're eating) are exposed. Lots of JETs have them, but unfortunately, I don't. They aren't cheap, and apparently none of my predecessors had one (unless they sold it before I arrived to get some extra cash, which wouldn't surprise me). But most of my friends have a kotatsu and we've spent many pleasant nights enveloped in its warmth.

All I have is one electric bar heater. It works ok... I'm basically living in just one room of my apartment over winter because that's all it will heat. And I use the term 'heat' loosely. At this very moment, my room is 14.6 degrees Celcius. Believe it or not, that's warm. For safety and financial reasons, I leave the heater off overnight, which means that this morning, for example, it was 5 degrees in my room when I woke up. Yep, I can see my breath as I'm getting ready for work. But like I said, I think I'm used to it now. And people live in much worse conditions than this, anyway.

The other heating option here in Japan is the very antiquated kerosene system. The heaters themselves are pretty advanced, all technological, with timers and sensors to 'ensure' that dangerous gases don't build up... but I still have my doubts about them. To keep a kerosene heater full, you have to lug a storage container to the gas station, have it filled up, and lug it back to your apartment. All the while trying desperately not to spill it. Then you have to fill the heater up, again trying even more desperately not to spill it, so you don't soak your carpet in flammable liquid. Then, while the heater is running, you should actually leave a window open so that carbon monoxide and other fumes don't build up and slowly poison you to death, over time. Plenty of people ignore the leave-the-window-open advice, and I heard first-hand from one JET that he ended up getting really bad respiratory problems as a result. The other thing that's scared me off kerosene is that my desk is in prime position at work, right next to one of two huge kerosene heaters in the staffroom. So I inhale plenty of poisonous fumes during the day- why get them at night too?

As much as I think I've adapted to my 4-degree bedroom, I can't wait for spring to come. Which apparently we are well into by now, according to the Chinese lunar calendar. Whaaaat? Mid-February? Spring? Yes, it really is too good to be true- no such luck. I guess I'm stuck wearing my ski coat and scarf and huddling next to the heater for another month or so.

Seeds and Sweat

I've just returned home from my first deliberate exercise session since being in Japan. I say deliberate because I'd rather forget the times in August when I naively rode my squeaky bike around Kakamigahara in 35-degree heat and 90% humidity in pursuit of a sightseeing experience. This latest physical exertion has resulted in what I predict will be a very sore hamstring muscle by tomorrow, a few scratches and a bedroom floor littered with prickles and seeds. Sound interesting? You too can have such an experience, merely by venturing out for a jog along any creek or rice-paddy in Japan. I decided it was too complicated to ride my bike half an hour to the nearest gym, sign up, and go through a 2-hour induction session in a foreign language simply to get my heart rate above 100 beats per minute. Why do that when there are several perfectly-good gravel paths (albeit a little overgrown with grasses and weeds) just a couple of blocks from my apartment? Anyway, after observing several old ladies walking their tiny dogs and eliminating the possibility that I might be trespassing onto some Japanese farmer's land, I decided to start my first jog. Half an hour and several laps of the same stretch of gravel later, I finally felt like a human being again instead of a lazy lump of gaijin flesh. Nevermind the hundreds of seeds that had attached themselves to my lower limbs, the red welts on my arms from who-knows-what weird and wonderful plant, or the suspicious glances from little old Japanese farmers' wives taking their daily constitution...

The Return of Jeshika

Ok, something has to change. I need to write in this blog more often... maybe short entries more often are better than long-winded crapping-on sessions twice a month.

Anyway. So how are things? Well, I guess it's safe to say I've settled in to some semblance of a life here. (Although having said that, today one of my friends here told me to 'get a life by Sunday'. She's from New York and thinks that gives her the right to talk tough ;) I am yet to find a form of regular physical exercise, though. I think I'm going to have to take the plunge (literally) and go swimming soon, or maybe use the indoor running track near here. With my new-found language deficit, however, I've been reluctant to attempt signing up for anything that hasn't been absolutely essential to daily life. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and twice-daily 15 minute bike rides (70% of which is coasting) just don't cut it for 'exercise'.

What else? Well I'm quite proud, actually, that I've been managing the ins and outs of daily life completely by myself... for the first time in my life, at the ripe old age of 24. Bills are getting paid, cleaning is being done, and semi-healthy food is being eaten. It's all a lot easier than they lead you to believe growing up, as you may or may not know. And this is all happening in a foreign country where I don't speak the language. Then again, there was that time I attempted to do a money transfer via the ATM - ALONE - and ended up freezing my account. At least it was only temporary. I've come to the conclusion that Japan really is discriminatory towards anyone who isn't Japanese. You can do EVERY other function on an ATM (withdrawals, deposits, balance inquiries etc) in English, but if you want to transfer money (which is essential for things like paying rent, buying plane tickets, etc), forget it. Anyway it worked out in the end, and now I have paid for my 3-day trip to Seoul, Korea, in November. Yay!

'Teaching' is going pretty good, too. Well, at least as far as I can tell. It's hard to know when the JTEs (Japanese teachers of English that are supposed to 'team-teach' with me) don't engage in feedback. Or planning, for that matter (with one or two exceptions). Oh, and when the students, 90% of the time, stare at me with blank faces. I have never come across a catatonic person, but I don't think they can be any less responsive than a class of 16-year-old Japanese students. I seriously doubt I will ever feel socially awkward again after being in (especially after teaching in) Japan. It's like trial by fire. I'm not kidding. Then again, whenever I feel like a freak, I remind myself that 'they think you're weird anyway, as a foreigner, so whatever you do won't change that'. Back home, you KNOW when you're acting against social codes, and can't fall back on the excuse, 'I'm a foreigner!'.
(*I know the word 'foreigner' might sound weird, but officially and unofficially, that's what non-Japanese people are called in Japan; there's no getting around it, so I use it freely now.)

Meeting the students outside class can be a different story, though. Some of them actually like to chat with me and Khaleelah (the other ALT at my school), and they sure like yelling 'Bye bye!' or 'See you!' at the end of the day. The other comforting thing lately has been that for the past 2 weeks, we've had 13 Australian high school students (from a sister school in Queensland) on exchange. It makes me feel a little more 'valid' as a person when they're around: "See, I'm not the only pigment-deprived individual in Kakamigahara!" They've been pretty friendly too, but for some reason insist on calling me 'Miss' which freaks me out and grates on my nerves every time they say it. I just picture this spinster teacher in a black dress with a bun, carrying a whipping cane. Hmph. Brisbane. What more do I need to say?

I would love to provide further witty commentary of my working day but am too tired right now to attempt that. I promise I will soon, though. Instead, an anecdote. Today I had to attend a seminar for Speech Contest judges in Gifu City. (That's right; I am qualified to judge a Speech Contest merely because of the fact that I am from an English-speaking country. I feel a bit guilty every time they bestow me with this kind of power, which I seem to have only by default. It's almost like if the authorities said, "Hey, you're healthy! Prescribe medicine!").) I took the train to the venue with one of the JTEs from my school, but then, once the seminar was over, I realised my stupid bike had been left at school. SOOOO once I got back to Kakamigahara, I had to walk 40 minutes from the train station to school. On my travels, I took a 'shortcut' (really just an alternate route... a random side-street that led to god-knows-where, at dusk).... where I encountered a factory worker, in overalls and all. Who walked alongside me for a few meters, looked me up and down, and said something incomprehensible in Japanese. Expecting the worst, I replied "Wakarimasen" ("I don't understand"), and walked quicker. "Kuni wa?" ("Your country is...?") To which I replied, "Oosutoraria". Upon which he told me, in Japanese, that many of his co-workers came from different countries, like Brazil, Korea, China... "Sou desu ka" ("Is that so?"), I replied, like a native. And that was it. We parted ways. Anyway, it might not seem like a momentous event, but it kind of sums up how things are going here. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, something comes up, I expect the worst, but it works out, and ends up being an interesting memory. And none of that ever would have happened if I hadn't forgotten my bike at school.

You can take whatever you want from that.

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!