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.

I Found The Twilight Zone in Tokyo

Two random, pretty weird things happened to me in Tokyo on my recent trips there, and I just have to get them down.

1. The scene: New Years Eve, sick in bed at a cheap hotel because I got food poisoning from KFC! On my 10th visit to the bathroom, I am sitting in the cubicle when I become aware that the Indian guys from down the hall (who have been partying in their room for several hours) have decided to also take a trip to the bathroom before they venture out for NY celebrations. It suddenly occurs to me that this is a unisex toilet, and there are urinals just outside my door. So I vow to remain silent and let them do their business. One by one, they come in, take care of the task at hand (I am unfortunately privy to exactly what that involves), and leave, taking their sweet time! After each one leaves I am SURE it must be over, but no- another one shuffles in. I am getting more and more annoyed and embarrassed by the second, not just because it's not exactly pleasant listening to the tinkling, but also because I am afraid if they find out I've been in there all along, who knows how they might react. Just when I think it can't get much worse, drunk Indian guy number 8 comes in, warbling 'My Heart Will Go On'. Yes, the Celine Dion ballad. In an Indian accent. At least it drowned out the other sounds.

2. My friend Leanne and I are walking across a busy street in Akihabara, the area of Tokyo where all the weird and wonderful newest technological advances first go on sale. Just as we reach the other side, we both feel someone rubbing our heads firmly and vigorously. I am stunned for a couple of seconds and the possibilities of who it might be run through my head. Leanne's friend Yota, who we met for dinner last night? His friend Simon, who we also met? We turn around and see a middle-aged Japanese guy in glasses running away (in what can only be described as a 'frolicking' manner), half giggling, half-panicked. It sounds funny, but it left me outraged. A complete invasion of... everything. And people around us, although they had noticed, didn't bat an eyelid because the Japanese are masters of the 'bystander effect'. This angered me even more. Looking back, yes, it's funny... but unsettling, because he could have done way more than just mess up our hair.

New Year, New Post

I know it's all a big cliche to say that with a New Year comes new resolutions, the turning over of a new leaf, and all that. But recently - this week, actually - I've felt that something has changed in my outlook on my time here in Japan. I've suddenly started feeling a lot more comfortable here. It's probably due to a lot of things- I'm slowly but surely improving my Japanese (and have actually found a class that lets me learn how to SPEAK in Japanese as opposed to learning obscure grammatical rules); I'm approaching the 6 month mark of being here; I've pretty much resolved to stay here for another year, beyond my original one-year contract; and the fact that Leanne, my high school friend, is visiting from Australia.

Travelling with someone who is seeing Japan with a completely fresh outlook has made me aware of how much I actually do know about Japanese language, society, culture and trivial things. Even just knowing a nice cafe to take Leanne to, only a 5 minute walk from my house, made me realize that I'm not so much of an 'alien' here, but that I actually live here and am a functioning part of society... well, somewhat, anyway.

Now, I also don't feel so much like I'm part of some big imperialist effort to 'spread English to the masses' around the world. Being hired by the Japanese government to go inform people about English and Australian / Western culture didn't sit 100% comfortably with me. But I know it's up to me to make it what it is. I can go in there and demand the students 'say this', or 'do that', but the more classes I teach, the more I realise that my role is not to change them into outspoken, opinionated pseudo-Western English speakers. They are what they are, even if their behavior in class does come across as a little catatonic or 'robotic' overall. If I can make a few students a bit more passionate, a bit more motivated, a bit more confident about English, then I've done what I came here for. Sounds idealistic, I know, but last weekend something happened that made me feel it was happening. Five students from my school participated in an English Speech Competition in my city. The other ALT and I coached them for about 2 weeks, every day after school, in pronounciation, delivery, gesturing, etc. And we really saw an improvement. Most importantly, I could see that just practicing a speech they had written by themselves was giving them a lot of confidence and motivation. Especially for one student, Shiori, who I could tell was naturally shy and afraid to speak English. But she worked incredibly hard on practicing her speech, and took in everything I told her. She ended up winning the competition! In fact, all 5 of our students (3 of which we had coached) took the top 5 spots. Granted, only 2 schools were competing, but nevertheless, it would have meant a lot to those students. And to our school. I've never really been in a position to feel 'proud' of someone, since I've never been a teacher or coach before, but it really does feel great.

The other thing that has given me more confidence in my job is that yesterday one of my colleagues (a Japanese Teacher of English, or 'JTE') told me that every time she goes to teach a certain class, they ask 'where's Jessica?'. Apparently they really love my class. All this time I've been feeling that they weren't getting much out of it, they were bored, didn't understand anything I was saying, and so on. But all my efforts to make the classes fun and understandable are apparently not in vain. Japanese students, as I've been at pains to explain to people back home, are extremely shy, reserved and downright unresponsive compared to students in the West. Now, when I came here, I knew all about Japanese culture putting emphasis on the group and 'hammering down the nail that sticks out', etc. But it has been really hard to accept that Japanese students could actually be interested in a class, despite acting like they've had a frontal lobotomy. I'm sure there are some that really don't want to be there, but I think the majority of students do get something out of my classes, and I'm so glad to know that. The other thing is that Japanese people (ie. my work colleagues) don't tend to give feedback or talk about how a class or project went. So generally, I've had nothing to go on as far as working out whether my lessons are acceptable/worthwhile or not.

Anyway, to round out this deep and meaningful post, I guess I'll jot down my resolutions for 2008. Until this year I've never actually had resolutions. But now that I'm a 'real adult'- 25 and living alone, thousands of miles from my family - I've become aware of few things I need/want to do:
-Be more decisive. There are no right or wrong decisions, but make a decision and if it turns out not so good, deal with it.
-Eat healthier and try to exercise more. (the old staple)
-Be more open with other people.
-Find a hobby and actually stick with it.
-Trust your instincts.

Ok, let's go 2008!

Akita-ken in Gifu-ken

Random post alert. Very random.

I've been thinking about dogs in Japan lately. I've seen alot of them in my time here. In fact, I saw more in Tokyo than I see here in Gifu most days. In Tokyo, they were all little 'foo-foo' dogs- you know, pomeranians, daschunds (sorry Sarah), toy poodles, usually dressed in some kind of jacket and with a 'hair-band' or two. Undeniably cute, but city dogs, if you know what I mean. Reminded me of the poodles you see in Paris, eating at the table at a cafe with their rich French mistress. (I really did see that in Paris once.) Walking through Tokyo, I spotted many weird and wonderful canine characters, including:

A pomeranian peering out of a Gucci backpack...


Four identical miniature daschunds wearing different coloured jackets like some kind of dog boy-band, all on leashes (one is being carried in the photo below)...


More daschunds at a 'dog cafe'... the owners were enjoying the experience way more than the dogs.


And, although photographic evidence is lacking, I spotted a smokin' hot leather-clad Japanese yakuza-boyband member-pimp holding a tiny chihuaha-type dog wearing a pink bow.

But in Gifu, good old country-bumpkin land, the dogs are straight-down-the-line REAL dogs. Introducing the Akita-ken. ('ken' is the another pronounciation of 'inu', meaning dog.) I just wikipedia-ed them, so of course now I'm an expert. Anyway, I always thought these dogs were cute. They look kind of like a cross between a fox, wolf and dingo. Their tails are curly and they're really alert.

They seem to be the national dog of Japan. Because you know Japan has a national everything. They were originally bred in the north of Japan as bear-hunting dogs, so you know they're agressive underneath all that cuteness. Just like all things Japanese, there have been attempts to keep the breed 'pure'. Akitas were also used as guard dogs for the Emperor and his children, so they must have some kind of 'sacred' connotations too. And normal people used them as babysitters for their children too!

Japan's most famous dog, Hachiko, was an Akita. Yes, Hachiko- the most valiant and loyal embodiment of man's best friend since Lassie. The legend says that he met his master at Shibuya station, Tokyo, every day. When his master died, Hachiko returned to the station every day for the rest of his life to wait for him. So now Hachiko has been immortalized as a statue outside Shibuya station. It's become a very popular meeting point. On my recent trip to Tokyo, I couldn't get near it, it was so crowded!

So anyway, 99 percent of the dogs I see here in Gifu-ken are Akita-ken. (Hard-working down-to-earth dogs for a hard-working down-to-earth place, I guess.) They seem to embody the Japanese spirit somehow. And not least because their temperament sounds pretty much like the national character! With only a little imagination, I'm sure anyone familiar with Japanese society can see the parallels:

"They are naturally wary of unknown people and animals and should be well socialised to avoid undesirable aggression. They are highly pack oriented, thus, isolating them from a social environment causes them great stress. Akitas are known to be very quiet dogs, only barking "when there is something to bark about". An Akita is not likely to shower affection on someone that is not a member of his family or a close friend that he sees frequently, and can be extremely aloof. The dogs are known for their loyalty, and a pet Akita will patiently follow its master from room to room, without ever getting underfoot."

I'm not sure about the 'underfoot' bit, but I'm sure it's a metaphor for something! ;)

Anyway, enough rambling. Woof!

Hello, Goodbye!

Today my mum left after visiting me here in Japan for almost 4 weeks. Last night, at the dinner my colleagues had in her honour (!), I learned a new Japanese word: sabishii. I thought it meant 'to miss someone', but now that I look it up, it actually means 'lonely, solitary, desolate'. I wouldn't go as far as to say I'm desolate (no more than usual, anyway.. hehe just kidding), but I WILL miss her. As I told her, I wasn't that sad to leave Australia and embark on this adventure they call JET... but somehow, when someone visits you and stays for more than a couple of weeks, they become part of your life again. And then, when they leave, it feels like something's missing. This is the first time I've lived alone, and although it's been way easier than I expected, there was always something slightly off about it. I guess it's me adjusting to living by myself. Not necessarily sad or lonely, but definitely different.

Anyway, I have many mementos of mum's visit- mostly domestic things! Since she arrived, I have acquired: a table (aka earthquake shelter); a curtain divider for the shower area; pictures for the walls; a Japanese paper umbrella; a newly-cleaned carpet; a NEW futon; and a new frying pan. Oh, and I've been cooked for countless times, had numerous items of clothing and bedding laundered, and the mould cleaned out from a closet or two! Don't get the wrong impression- it's not like I was living in squalor before she got here... far from it. My neighbour commented on how clean my apartment was. But I guess I haven't exactly developed my mother's zest for cleaning!

But far better than these things are the memories of our trips to the Nakasendo (specifically, our hike between the towns of Magome and Tsumago), Matsumoto castle, Takayama, Ise Shrine, Mikimoto Pearl Island, and Nagoya (Neko Maho cafe). Oh, and the memories of me nursing her back to health after she came down with a severe cold halfway through the trip! Which reminds me that I have also acquired a bottle of Vicks VapoRub, some cough medicine and some throat spray...

Now, I better go work on consuming some of that mysterious stew concoction she prepared yesterday, which is apparently supposed to feed me for the next 3 months...

Insert Seoul/Sold/Soul pun here

I made it back safe and sound from the wilds of Korea. Yep, in the past few weeks I've shed my skin flakes all over eastern Asia. Seoul was cool, but I can't say it was the trip of a lifetime. Food was great, onsen was nice, the company was good, but something about the trip fell a little flat with me. I'm cautious saying it, but I think I've become a bit 'Japanized'. I think that after only a few months of living in Japan, even the most hardened foreigner will find themselves adopting (at least to some degree) the impossibly discerning attitudes towards cleanliness, 'politeness' and aesthetics of the Japanese.

Granted, Seoul is a huge, bustling metropolis, whereas I currently live the suburbs of a fairly small city... actually, full-on inaka (country-side) according to the Japanese (but then everything except Shinjuku is inaka to them!) But Seoul came across as kind of dirty, too busy and annoyingly chaotic. I don't know if there was a garbage collection strike while we were there, but you couldn't help but notice the piles of garbage bags, many half-open, on every street corner. There were also people trying to sell you (low-quality) stuff EVERYwhere. Oh, and we got lost trying to find a castle, so we walked all over Seoul (which, by the way, must be one of the world's hilliest cities) looking for the bloody thing.
From the top of a hill after failing to find the castle.
When we finally found the castle (aided by the directions of a very friendly parking attendant), the gates were closed. By that point we had exactly 15 minutes to make it back to our hostel across town for the next activity.

...Which actually happened to be the highlight of the trip- a Korean public bath. Yes, that means you get naked with strangers, something I am well acquainted with now, having developed a fondness for Japanese onsen. I can't say I was a huge fan of the 55 degree sauna, or the hessian bags they placed on our heads before we entered (?!). But the washing and the scrubbing and the being massaged was pretty relaxing. And exactly what we needed after a day of what was for me, sort of disappointing sightseeing.

The day before (just to give you the story out of order), we took a tour of the DMZ, the 'demilitarized zone' between North and South Korea. Unfortunately the tour we took didn't actually go inside the DMZ, like some do, but we got pretty close to it and it was interesting to learn about the situation. The most interesting thing was the way that South Korea presents the situation to tourists. If you were to believe their hype, North and South Korea are about to reunite any day. It's great that they're optimistic, and I'm no expert on the politics, but I couldn't help feeling that it kind of denies the gravity of the conflict.

Oh, and of course the day we visited the lookout point that allows you to see across a valley into North Korea, it rained cats and dogs. The fog was so thick you could barely see a few meters in front of you. The view from the observation deck was a sea of white. So much for binoculars!

I can say that the people in Korea were, overall, really helpful and friendly (the hostel lady, random people who helped us out with directions, the waiter who brought us the best meal ever, the tour guide, the onsen ladies...). Let's just try to forget the old guy on the train that came up to my friend, GRUNTED to her to get up, and took her seat. Our last meal in Korea was absolutely, amazingly delicious, and extremely spicy, of course.

We were wary of the after-affects, namely the "ring 'o' fire" that would strike, possibly while we were on the plane back to Japan, but decided it was worth it. (I was spared the suffering, but my friend wasn't so lucky.)

Pretentious disclaimer: The above is just an account my my own reactions and experiences on a quick, 2-day trip to Seoul. It is by no means representative of Korea and any trip anyone else takes there, and any future trip I might take there, will bear little resemblance to what I experienced this time. I know there are many many amazing cultural and social aspects to Korea that I have no idea about and would love to discover. The negative things I've talked about shouldn't be a reflection on Seoul or Korea in general; they're mostly just a result of the shortness of our trip, the rainy weather on the first day, our slight lack of planning, and my now Japanese-influenced cultural perspective!