http://picasaweb.google.com/adriene.giese/8_28_09NagasakiOrientation?authkey=Gv1sRgCLmVlN2l48C0Qg&feat=directlink
My photos from Nagasaki. I will write everything later.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
booze and kindergarten
I guess I haven’t talked about my junior high school’s enkai, or welcome party. It happened last Friday. And of course, I completely messed up the time it started. Well I showed up slightly late, not too bad. But still, I strolled in a good fifteen minutes late for the party that they threw for me. Even though it was my welcome party, I still had to pay them 3000 yen ($30) for the meal. Everyone has to pay. And everyone has to pay every time that the teachers have a party. So I have to budget for one more thing because enkais are mandatory optional events. By mandatory I mean that if I want to foster good ongoing relationships with my office people I need to drink with them. Bottom line I need to booze it up. Don’t worry. I have learned how to look like I am drinking without actually drinking a lot, which requires skill.
If you are not careful at an enkai, your glass will keep refilling magically. As soon as you take a sip five people rush to grab the closest drink and fill your cup up to the brim, whether your cup is full beer or hard liquor. This brings me to rule number one: stick to beer. Drinking beer ensures that your blood alcohol levels are lower than if you drink nihon-shuu (what we refer to as sake) or sho-yuu (Japanese potato wine). With the first rule in mind, it is possible to avoid disaster because if you are like me, you keep drinking anything that is in front of you. As a habit I will drink anything put in front of my at a restaurant. This started with water, but I absent mindedly sip my drinks until they empty. Why? I have no idea, but even with water this because a problem because my bladder fills up quickly and then I have to make innumerable trips to the bathroom. I treat alcohol in a glass like water not because I want to get drunk, but because I don’t realize I am doing this. So, my dangerous habit combined with everyone refilling my drink I get into a vicious cycle that never ends. I can’t stop drinking, but I don’t realize that I am doing it. Solution (and second rule) have either a cup of water or cup of soda along with your beer cup. I can satisfy my constant drinking habit with the soda and not drink too much alcohol. Rule one: ask for beer and rule two: have a non alcoholic drink.
If you have to break rule one (only beer) then you can still maintain sobriety by leaving some sake in your glass. VERY IMPORTANT to leave at least a little. When your Japanese friend sees it empty your glass will be refilled before you can refuse. I think their refilling system kind of works like meerkats. A sentry, “or booze master” also looks out for empty glasses, and this duty seems to shift throughout the night. I am making this up to explain how dangerous drinking with Japanese can be. You are never safely able to finish a glass. BEWARE. I escaped booze disaster my enkai night, but I am lucky that I have played their game before. Making mistakes previously (and bad headaches) enlightened me, and I am now very careful.
The food was absolutely amazing. There was sashimi, tempura, yakiniku, fried fish, edamame, and soup. So, I started with the sashimi of course. I surprised everyone that I could eat everything, and that I like Japanese food. Every time I have mentioned that I like sashimi Japanese people look very impressed. They actually don’t realize that people consume sashimi regularly outside of Japan (which goes to show how egocentric they are). I can tell they don’t believe me when I tell them lots of people eat sashimi in the states. So strange that they can’t imagine foreigners eating Japanese food. Because in my opinion raw fish isn’t that big of a deal. Europeans have traditionally had the smoked salmon, and that is basically raw. Their amazement just reflects the thought that foreigners can’t do or understand Japanese things: food included. So when I used my chopsticks I kept getting, “Oh you are so good with chopstick.” Yes, people in America can use chopsticks. Yes, people in America know about manga and anime. We have heard about some parts of Japanese culture. But, almost everyone knows stereotypical cultural tidbits.
They made a list of questions for me which was by far the most awkward part of the enkai. Some questions asked about my birthday or about what I like about Arikawa. But then they asked me to guess the ages of the male workers. What? The worst part about this was I had forgotten my glasses. My vision significantly hindered my decision making abilities. So this tiny exercise turned into a horrible mistake. There are only five of men in the office and most look around the same age. Since they asked me to do this I didn’t think it was a big deal (after two beers why worry?) and I started selecting. For certain I knew the youngest and the oldest so fill in the rest. But what to do? I had to judge but I couldn’t base my decision on sight because I couldn’t tell easily with visual cues (I was blind after all). I guessed that the vice principal was second oldest because of the age-related hierarchy in business. However, I couldn’t decide for two men how old they were. I guessed the secretary was second youngest and that the assistant director was as old as the principle. ERRRRRR, wrong. The assistant director actually was second youngest. Oops He looks old! Nakamura sensei turned to me and said, “Be careful.” TOO LATE. I had already blundered and I couldn’t take it back. I felt so bad but everyone else thought it was funny. So two huge errors on the night of my enkai: I was late and I made someone (second youngest!) feel really old.
Look through my captions on picasa to see how my weekend went http://picasaweb.google.co.jp/adriene.giese/8_23_09SumoAndNarao?authkey=Gv1sRgCLuwhczj0ObGfg&feat=directlink . I went to an elementary sumo-wrestling tournament and to Narao on the southside of the island to visit Shinju.
Monday, oh joy, a day with none other than my most favorite person on the island! Yup, Toki. Oh my what a day it was. I had great plans for Monday: 8:30-9:30 read linguistic papers on vowels, 9:30-10:30 organize bills and finances, 10:30 – 11:30 continue lesson plans, 11:30- 12:00 blog, 12:00 -12:30 lunch, 12:30- 2:30 med school essays, 2:30- 3:30 study Japanese, 3:30 – 4:15 english board. But my lofty goals suddenly came crashing down when I realized that Monday I had the last half of the day with Toki going to the different elementary schools.
When he showed up he looked flustered. I think, like me, he doesn’t look forward of our time together. In my defense, I really don’t ask him to do very much and he doesn’t tell me anything. I think that he wants to save face, and so he doesn’t enjoy time together because he feels like his English should be better. And it should be in his position. He can’t articulate anything in English to me at all. When he does he often misleads me. So, he just avoids telling me anything at all. For example, he failed inform me that I am also working at kindergartens once a week. But, I had to figure this out for myself and here is how.
We went to the first elementary school Sakiura. At this point I was in a bad mood because I was sitting the car with Toki who smelled like BO and he was making weird breathing noises. It was right after lunch (my down time) and my natural demeanor after lunch tends to fall into the category of sluggish and moody which has nothing to do with Toki. I lack my usual zest. So post-lunch Toki time drags me deeper into a bad state of mind.
At Sakiura he pulled out a schedule to give to the principle, vice principle, and JTE. (WGO) On it, I noticed that new kanji (Japanese characters) appeared at the top of the schedule. He began discussing the schedule while pointing to various circles placed in sections of the spread sheet. I also noticed that new dates appeared that were never on the school schedule I was given. With some consideration I started to realize this new schedule meant I had more dates at these elementary schools and less dates at Arikawa junior high school. Strange. Strange because I have already laid out my schedule (not in stone). So like a responsible employee I asked what the new schedule had to do with me. Oh, I didn’t know? I was going to be working mandatorily with kindergartens. Wait what? Toki hadn’t mentioned anything about three kindergartens before this. Not only that but I am supposed to go to a different kindergarten every Monday and go to the corresponding elementary school that afternoon. I tried to not be upset but I told him in front of the Sakiura people that he hadn’t informed me of this beforehand. Sakiura people looked sympathetic and tried to explain to me my schedule because Toki had failed to do so.
On that day I was furious. I couldn’t believe that he was trying to take advantage of me as an ALT and spread my duties thin. Well, re-read my contract and I do have to work at kindergartens. Also, there is a clause stating that my supervisor can assign me duties that the board of education deems necessary. I don’t think that they will really try and have me do too much, but it is somewhat disconcerting to know that they can make me do whatever they want me to. My understand is the have to make me do extra things during work hours, but in my description they told me I have adult conversation classes. I keep asking Toki when they start and he told me that the adult classes didn’t fit into his job description. Yes they do. His job is to make sure that we are comfortable and taken care of during our time here. Since I have no idea who to contact, wouldn’t it be a good idea for him to call? We figured it out without him, but I am starting to resent his inability to be useful.
On a happy note, the rest of the elementary school visits went well. Everyone boosted my confidence in Japanese (because I could actually understand them unlike Toki) and I got tea at every place. Drinking so much tea nearly made my bladed explode but I love getting refreshments everywhere I go.
One last thing, I have decided that I will do the iron man triathlon next summer here in Shinkamigoto. If I can do it I will feel pretty bad ass.
If you are not careful at an enkai, your glass will keep refilling magically. As soon as you take a sip five people rush to grab the closest drink and fill your cup up to the brim, whether your cup is full beer or hard liquor. This brings me to rule number one: stick to beer. Drinking beer ensures that your blood alcohol levels are lower than if you drink nihon-shuu (what we refer to as sake) or sho-yuu (Japanese potato wine). With the first rule in mind, it is possible to avoid disaster because if you are like me, you keep drinking anything that is in front of you. As a habit I will drink anything put in front of my at a restaurant. This started with water, but I absent mindedly sip my drinks until they empty. Why? I have no idea, but even with water this because a problem because my bladder fills up quickly and then I have to make innumerable trips to the bathroom. I treat alcohol in a glass like water not because I want to get drunk, but because I don’t realize I am doing this. So, my dangerous habit combined with everyone refilling my drink I get into a vicious cycle that never ends. I can’t stop drinking, but I don’t realize that I am doing it. Solution (and second rule) have either a cup of water or cup of soda along with your beer cup. I can satisfy my constant drinking habit with the soda and not drink too much alcohol. Rule one: ask for beer and rule two: have a non alcoholic drink.
If you have to break rule one (only beer) then you can still maintain sobriety by leaving some sake in your glass. VERY IMPORTANT to leave at least a little. When your Japanese friend sees it empty your glass will be refilled before you can refuse. I think their refilling system kind of works like meerkats. A sentry, “or booze master” also looks out for empty glasses, and this duty seems to shift throughout the night. I am making this up to explain how dangerous drinking with Japanese can be. You are never safely able to finish a glass. BEWARE. I escaped booze disaster my enkai night, but I am lucky that I have played their game before. Making mistakes previously (and bad headaches) enlightened me, and I am now very careful.
The food was absolutely amazing. There was sashimi, tempura, yakiniku, fried fish, edamame, and soup. So, I started with the sashimi of course. I surprised everyone that I could eat everything, and that I like Japanese food. Every time I have mentioned that I like sashimi Japanese people look very impressed. They actually don’t realize that people consume sashimi regularly outside of Japan (which goes to show how egocentric they are). I can tell they don’t believe me when I tell them lots of people eat sashimi in the states. So strange that they can’t imagine foreigners eating Japanese food. Because in my opinion raw fish isn’t that big of a deal. Europeans have traditionally had the smoked salmon, and that is basically raw. Their amazement just reflects the thought that foreigners can’t do or understand Japanese things: food included. So when I used my chopsticks I kept getting, “Oh you are so good with chopstick.” Yes, people in America can use chopsticks. Yes, people in America know about manga and anime. We have heard about some parts of Japanese culture. But, almost everyone knows stereotypical cultural tidbits.
They made a list of questions for me which was by far the most awkward part of the enkai. Some questions asked about my birthday or about what I like about Arikawa. But then they asked me to guess the ages of the male workers. What? The worst part about this was I had forgotten my glasses. My vision significantly hindered my decision making abilities. So this tiny exercise turned into a horrible mistake. There are only five of men in the office and most look around the same age. Since they asked me to do this I didn’t think it was a big deal (after two beers why worry?) and I started selecting. For certain I knew the youngest and the oldest so fill in the rest. But what to do? I had to judge but I couldn’t base my decision on sight because I couldn’t tell easily with visual cues (I was blind after all). I guessed that the vice principal was second oldest because of the age-related hierarchy in business. However, I couldn’t decide for two men how old they were. I guessed the secretary was second youngest and that the assistant director was as old as the principle. ERRRRRR, wrong. The assistant director actually was second youngest. Oops He looks old! Nakamura sensei turned to me and said, “Be careful.” TOO LATE. I had already blundered and I couldn’t take it back. I felt so bad but everyone else thought it was funny. So two huge errors on the night of my enkai: I was late and I made someone (second youngest!) feel really old.
Look through my captions on picasa to see how my weekend went http://picasaweb.google.co.jp/adriene.giese/8_23_09SumoAndNarao?authkey=Gv1sRgCLuwhczj0ObGfg&feat=directlink . I went to an elementary sumo-wrestling tournament and to Narao on the southside of the island to visit Shinju.
Monday, oh joy, a day with none other than my most favorite person on the island! Yup, Toki. Oh my what a day it was. I had great plans for Monday: 8:30-9:30 read linguistic papers on vowels, 9:30-10:30 organize bills and finances, 10:30 – 11:30 continue lesson plans, 11:30- 12:00 blog, 12:00 -12:30 lunch, 12:30- 2:30 med school essays, 2:30- 3:30 study Japanese, 3:30 – 4:15 english board. But my lofty goals suddenly came crashing down when I realized that Monday I had the last half of the day with Toki going to the different elementary schools.
When he showed up he looked flustered. I think, like me, he doesn’t look forward of our time together. In my defense, I really don’t ask him to do very much and he doesn’t tell me anything. I think that he wants to save face, and so he doesn’t enjoy time together because he feels like his English should be better. And it should be in his position. He can’t articulate anything in English to me at all. When he does he often misleads me. So, he just avoids telling me anything at all. For example, he failed inform me that I am also working at kindergartens once a week. But, I had to figure this out for myself and here is how.
We went to the first elementary school Sakiura. At this point I was in a bad mood because I was sitting the car with Toki who smelled like BO and he was making weird breathing noises. It was right after lunch (my down time) and my natural demeanor after lunch tends to fall into the category of sluggish and moody which has nothing to do with Toki. I lack my usual zest. So post-lunch Toki time drags me deeper into a bad state of mind.
At Sakiura he pulled out a schedule to give to the principle, vice principle, and JTE. (WGO) On it, I noticed that new kanji (Japanese characters) appeared at the top of the schedule. He began discussing the schedule while pointing to various circles placed in sections of the spread sheet. I also noticed that new dates appeared that were never on the school schedule I was given. With some consideration I started to realize this new schedule meant I had more dates at these elementary schools and less dates at Arikawa junior high school. Strange. Strange because I have already laid out my schedule (not in stone). So like a responsible employee I asked what the new schedule had to do with me. Oh, I didn’t know? I was going to be working mandatorily with kindergartens. Wait what? Toki hadn’t mentioned anything about three kindergartens before this. Not only that but I am supposed to go to a different kindergarten every Monday and go to the corresponding elementary school that afternoon. I tried to not be upset but I told him in front of the Sakiura people that he hadn’t informed me of this beforehand. Sakiura people looked sympathetic and tried to explain to me my schedule because Toki had failed to do so.
On that day I was furious. I couldn’t believe that he was trying to take advantage of me as an ALT and spread my duties thin. Well, re-read my contract and I do have to work at kindergartens. Also, there is a clause stating that my supervisor can assign me duties that the board of education deems necessary. I don’t think that they will really try and have me do too much, but it is somewhat disconcerting to know that they can make me do whatever they want me to. My understand is the have to make me do extra things during work hours, but in my description they told me I have adult conversation classes. I keep asking Toki when they start and he told me that the adult classes didn’t fit into his job description. Yes they do. His job is to make sure that we are comfortable and taken care of during our time here. Since I have no idea who to contact, wouldn’t it be a good idea for him to call? We figured it out without him, but I am starting to resent his inability to be useful.
On a happy note, the rest of the elementary school visits went well. Everyone boosted my confidence in Japanese (because I could actually understand them unlike Toki) and I got tea at every place. Drinking so much tea nearly made my bladed explode but I love getting refreshments everywhere I go.
One last thing, I have decided that I will do the iron man triathlon next summer here in Shinkamigoto. If I can do it I will feel pretty bad ass.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
WGO's
I don’t want anyone to think that I am complaining all the time. However, what stands out to me usually has some type of culture shock value. The more I am here the more I realize how American I am.
For instance, a Japanese person will complain about the heat while wearing long gloves that go up to their elbows. But they sacrifice temperature to make sure they don’t tan. So different from America where most people try to take advantage of any sun available. I remember this summer I tried so hard to get tan (with little result), but in Japan women want to be paler. Women in particular apply bleach creams and wear sleeves in order to look sexier for member of the opposite sex. From my point of view I think it is crazy because I associate pale with sickly, but they associate pale with beauty. Well I guess many Japanese men will find me sexy because I can’t get tan even if I want to. One point on the Japanese attractiveness scale for Adriene, but many points deducted for not being petite. Don’t worry I am not calling myself “fat” but honestly even the bigger Japanese girls are smaller than me.
So about this week. Well, how should I put it…I feel like a blind person being led by a group of mutes who point to things but forget about my condition: I can’t see the direction they’re pointing. I don’t understand what happens most of the time and no one really takes time to fill me in. One mute, not hard to guess, is Toki-san, and the others are my colleagues at school. Toki-san (god bless his soul) still hasn’t been able to fully inform me about events. Either he forgets or assumes I know, but none-the-less there’s lots of miscommunication. For instance, he failed to tell me about a meeting I had yesterday. So, I had made plans to take a day of summer vacation and scuba dive. But, he called on Wednesday to “remind” me. Well Nakamura-sensei tried to help and asked to cancel it, but apparently it couldn’t be. Something something about my elementary school teachers? They would come to my school? And Nakamura sensei was also surprised I didn’t know and thought that she had told me. Furthermore they tried to blame it on me by saying that it said “clearly” (in complicated Japanese characters) on a sheet that I had an appointment. How was I supposed to figure that out? Toki-san, seriously, inform me! In the end Nakamura sensei apologized and told me that I should have been told in advance. So I rescheduled with Nice Buddy for next week, but I still felt horrible about cancelling so suddenly.
Yesterday when I expected to be greeted by the principles at my school, a BOE (board of education) member came to pick me up. Huh, what? And when I got to the BOE Kelly, Shinju, and Robin were all waiting. They had the same questions as me, “What are we doing here? Where are the principles?” Soon we found out it was literally a five minute meeting. The “meeting” of the elementary school principles ended being an introduction in front of all the principles of not just my school but all of the others as well. So no meeting. It looked like a UN conference the way the tables were set up in this gym. Individual tables were lined up in three columns and each table had a name plate of the school. Arikawa elementary school principle happened to be seated right in front of where I was told to stand. We all stood in a line (the four of us ALTs) and each stepped forward to give our introduction. My day of scuba cancelled for, “Hello, My name is Adriene, I like sports, I studied linguistics in college, thank you very much.” But, Japanese are very much into ceremony so it makes sense why this was so important. To me, it seemed unnecessary, but I have a lot to learn about the importance of self introductions. I have given but each time Toki-san reads our information first so why do we have to repeat everything?
The same thing happened when meeting the board of education and the mayor. The BOE meetings basically reflected the principle meeting (but the BOE meeting happened first). Like I described earlier, when all of us ALTs gather we couldn’t predict what to expect. Toki-san never told us to prepare a self-introduction. Metaphorically, my blindness prevented the sight to see his mute gesturing. Toki-san might have told me beforehand, but when he gets nervous he starts speaking in really fast Japanese. Fast complicated Japanese that I just don’t understand yet. Funny enough he even does this to Kelly even though he knows that she can’t understand any Japanese.
I am going to title my unknowing moments as WGO’s (what’s going on?). Well another WGO just happened sitting at my desk writing my blog. All of a sudden students flooded in an all the teachers told me to clean. Cleaning time! What? And this morning when I walked into another WGO when all the teachers rushed out of the teacher’s lounge and they told me there was a school assembly. Why can’t I get a schedule? I am so confused. Yesterday I was getting ready to leave when all the teachers walked outside and told me it was time to pick grass on the brick driveway in front of the school. WGO? Mind you, I had dressed nicely that day in preparation of my meeting the principles and so my outfit was hardly suited for gardening. They gave me a bent thick wire and set me to work using this wire to dig weeds out of the cracks. Any heard of weed killer? I guess not. During this weed hooking I almost got bit by a mukade! Dangerous and poisonous, mukades are the Japanese centipede.
No gloves and without regard, I reached for a small weed. As soon as I touched a leaf a mukade about four inches long furiously scurried out from its hiding place! I screamed, and everyone of course turned towards me. I yelled, “MUKADE!” And several teachers ran over asking if I had been bitten. Luckily I escaped the poisonous bite. My brave JTE Takase sensei crushed the mukade with her foot. But that thing wouldn’t die. She had to step on it at least five times with powerful blows before it stopped moving. My life had flashed before my eyes and my heart started beating out of my chest. I wish I could explain how much I fear the mukade. Even though that was the first time I saw one, I don’t want to be bitten. I live in fear of them and as such I shake out my shoes every morning and I shake out my sheets. Better safe than sorry. But, I had not expected the mukade to come charging from under a small weed. I have to be even more careful than I thought. I live in fear.
Meeting the mayor was formal, but relaxed. He had us sit down, gave us delicious tea and presents. Cute little whale key chains and his card. Each card had a different place on the island with Catholic significance. I think he told us that he would take us by boat to a place called Saint Maria cave on the island. Missing my opportunity to ask about where I can go to church, I hope he does take us by boat so I can ask him again.
One more WGO. Preface- toki-san told us all to dress formally for the day’s events. After the two meetings on Wednesday we had our enkai (party). Usually this takes place at a restaurant, so we didn’t feel the need to change out of our clothes. Toki drove us to a place I am calling nowhere. At this nowhere we got out of the car and he handed us things from his trunk. OH, a BBQ! Finally we understood why we drove away from civilization, our enkai was a BBQ not at a restaurant. So at nowhere we climbed a steep staircase and ended up on the most beautiful hill and the perfect time of day when the sun cast a beautiful warm glow over everything. Dragon flies darted around our heads and we could see all the way to the neighboring island Ojika. Beautiful, but wrong. Are you surprised that Toki-san couldn’t get us to the right place? Soon he herded us back down the mountain and this time made it to the BBQ area.
Soon all the other BOE people showed up. And they all wore casual clothes and jeans. It was a BBQ of course. Oh Toki-san. Outside in formal wear was not my idea of a good time. I didn’t want to ruin my pants! Well I guess we couldn’t have changed if we wanted to because Toki-san didn’t tell us to bring an extra change of clothes.
My life continues to be one big WGO right now, constantly. Maybe I’ll catch on, but I feel like things will continually happen that I don’t expect. Either people don’t bother explaining because they feel like we won’t understand or they assume that our American social pragmatics match Japanese ones.
For instance, a Japanese person will complain about the heat while wearing long gloves that go up to their elbows. But they sacrifice temperature to make sure they don’t tan. So different from America where most people try to take advantage of any sun available. I remember this summer I tried so hard to get tan (with little result), but in Japan women want to be paler. Women in particular apply bleach creams and wear sleeves in order to look sexier for member of the opposite sex. From my point of view I think it is crazy because I associate pale with sickly, but they associate pale with beauty. Well I guess many Japanese men will find me sexy because I can’t get tan even if I want to. One point on the Japanese attractiveness scale for Adriene, but many points deducted for not being petite. Don’t worry I am not calling myself “fat” but honestly even the bigger Japanese girls are smaller than me.
So about this week. Well, how should I put it…I feel like a blind person being led by a group of mutes who point to things but forget about my condition: I can’t see the direction they’re pointing. I don’t understand what happens most of the time and no one really takes time to fill me in. One mute, not hard to guess, is Toki-san, and the others are my colleagues at school. Toki-san (god bless his soul) still hasn’t been able to fully inform me about events. Either he forgets or assumes I know, but none-the-less there’s lots of miscommunication. For instance, he failed to tell me about a meeting I had yesterday. So, I had made plans to take a day of summer vacation and scuba dive. But, he called on Wednesday to “remind” me. Well Nakamura-sensei tried to help and asked to cancel it, but apparently it couldn’t be. Something something about my elementary school teachers? They would come to my school? And Nakamura sensei was also surprised I didn’t know and thought that she had told me. Furthermore they tried to blame it on me by saying that it said “clearly” (in complicated Japanese characters) on a sheet that I had an appointment. How was I supposed to figure that out? Toki-san, seriously, inform me! In the end Nakamura sensei apologized and told me that I should have been told in advance. So I rescheduled with Nice Buddy for next week, but I still felt horrible about cancelling so suddenly.
Yesterday when I expected to be greeted by the principles at my school, a BOE (board of education) member came to pick me up. Huh, what? And when I got to the BOE Kelly, Shinju, and Robin were all waiting. They had the same questions as me, “What are we doing here? Where are the principles?” Soon we found out it was literally a five minute meeting. The “meeting” of the elementary school principles ended being an introduction in front of all the principles of not just my school but all of the others as well. So no meeting. It looked like a UN conference the way the tables were set up in this gym. Individual tables were lined up in three columns and each table had a name plate of the school. Arikawa elementary school principle happened to be seated right in front of where I was told to stand. We all stood in a line (the four of us ALTs) and each stepped forward to give our introduction. My day of scuba cancelled for, “Hello, My name is Adriene, I like sports, I studied linguistics in college, thank you very much.” But, Japanese are very much into ceremony so it makes sense why this was so important. To me, it seemed unnecessary, but I have a lot to learn about the importance of self introductions. I have given but each time Toki-san reads our information first so why do we have to repeat everything?
The same thing happened when meeting the board of education and the mayor. The BOE meetings basically reflected the principle meeting (but the BOE meeting happened first). Like I described earlier, when all of us ALTs gather we couldn’t predict what to expect. Toki-san never told us to prepare a self-introduction. Metaphorically, my blindness prevented the sight to see his mute gesturing. Toki-san might have told me beforehand, but when he gets nervous he starts speaking in really fast Japanese. Fast complicated Japanese that I just don’t understand yet. Funny enough he even does this to Kelly even though he knows that she can’t understand any Japanese.
I am going to title my unknowing moments as WGO’s (what’s going on?). Well another WGO just happened sitting at my desk writing my blog. All of a sudden students flooded in an all the teachers told me to clean. Cleaning time! What? And this morning when I walked into another WGO when all the teachers rushed out of the teacher’s lounge and they told me there was a school assembly. Why can’t I get a schedule? I am so confused. Yesterday I was getting ready to leave when all the teachers walked outside and told me it was time to pick grass on the brick driveway in front of the school. WGO? Mind you, I had dressed nicely that day in preparation of my meeting the principles and so my outfit was hardly suited for gardening. They gave me a bent thick wire and set me to work using this wire to dig weeds out of the cracks. Any heard of weed killer? I guess not. During this weed hooking I almost got bit by a mukade! Dangerous and poisonous, mukades are the Japanese centipede.
No gloves and without regard, I reached for a small weed. As soon as I touched a leaf a mukade about four inches long furiously scurried out from its hiding place! I screamed, and everyone of course turned towards me. I yelled, “MUKADE!” And several teachers ran over asking if I had been bitten. Luckily I escaped the poisonous bite. My brave JTE Takase sensei crushed the mukade with her foot. But that thing wouldn’t die. She had to step on it at least five times with powerful blows before it stopped moving. My life had flashed before my eyes and my heart started beating out of my chest. I wish I could explain how much I fear the mukade. Even though that was the first time I saw one, I don’t want to be bitten. I live in fear of them and as such I shake out my shoes every morning and I shake out my sheets. Better safe than sorry. But, I had not expected the mukade to come charging from under a small weed. I have to be even more careful than I thought. I live in fear.
Meeting the mayor was formal, but relaxed. He had us sit down, gave us delicious tea and presents. Cute little whale key chains and his card. Each card had a different place on the island with Catholic significance. I think he told us that he would take us by boat to a place called Saint Maria cave on the island. Missing my opportunity to ask about where I can go to church, I hope he does take us by boat so I can ask him again.
One more WGO. Preface- toki-san told us all to dress formally for the day’s events. After the two meetings on Wednesday we had our enkai (party). Usually this takes place at a restaurant, so we didn’t feel the need to change out of our clothes. Toki drove us to a place I am calling nowhere. At this nowhere we got out of the car and he handed us things from his trunk. OH, a BBQ! Finally we understood why we drove away from civilization, our enkai was a BBQ not at a restaurant. So at nowhere we climbed a steep staircase and ended up on the most beautiful hill and the perfect time of day when the sun cast a beautiful warm glow over everything. Dragon flies darted around our heads and we could see all the way to the neighboring island Ojika. Beautiful, but wrong. Are you surprised that Toki-san couldn’t get us to the right place? Soon he herded us back down the mountain and this time made it to the BBQ area.
Soon all the other BOE people showed up. And they all wore casual clothes and jeans. It was a BBQ of course. Oh Toki-san. Outside in formal wear was not my idea of a good time. I didn’t want to ruin my pants! Well I guess we couldn’t have changed if we wanted to because Toki-san didn’t tell us to bring an extra change of clothes.
My life continues to be one big WGO right now, constantly. Maybe I’ll catch on, but I feel like things will continually happen that I don’t expect. Either people don’t bother explaining because they feel like we won’t understand or they assume that our American social pragmatics match Japanese ones.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
obon festival
All of Japan celebrates Obon because the festival has deep Buddhism roots now engrained in mainstream culture. During Obon people visit graves and remember their ancestors by lighting incense, pouring sake on the graves (this is because the people liked sake in life), and giving freshly cut flowers. Most places in Japan make Obon a subdued and personal event including only members of the family. But Nagasaki does things a bit bigger. Obon happens to be the biggest festival in Nagasaki only second to New Years. People parade huge boat looking carts lit with lanterns through the street. Each boat carries the ancestors and recently passed family members and friends. Communities spend months preparing their floats to parade through the streets of Nagasaki. And each time the boat stops, a handful of very loud fireworks are dropped onto the ground. These fireworks are the type that make loud noises but not much light. Believe me, the noise rose to such unbearable decibels that we all had to wear earplugs. I’ll go into more detail about this later.
Careful planning ensured that I could make it to Nagasaki last weekend. And, I just barely made it. I had to go the long way through Sasebo. I chose this route because the Sasebo ferry is walk distance from my house, and because it is one of the cheaper routes to Nagasaki. On the downside, this route takes forever, but on the upside I get to see the beautiful country side. And it was a perfect day for taking the long scenic route. Finally the sun had come out – it has been pretty cloudy most of the time here – and made all the colors intense and vibrant. Reminding me of my high school Coaster days, I loved seeing the sea from my window of the train. It was a good relaxing break before all of the excitement in Nagasaki.
Before I get ahead of myself I should describe the ferry. There were no seats. When I walked inside there were only four sections of carpet elevated from the main aisle. Since I am in Japan, everyone took off their shoes before stepping up onto the carpet. I should have foreseen this event – removal of the shoes – but alas I did not. I had sprinkled a hefty amount of Gold Bond into my shoes in preparation of the hot humid Nagasaki weather. At first I had just sprinkled it in the shoes, but upon further consideration I felt that a bigger more ample amount would prevent foot odor. And those of you who have used Gold Bond know that it is very fine white powder, and in this instance completely covered my feet. Although a great idea to prevent foot odor, it wasn’t such a great idea when confronted with taking off my shoes. I nearly had a panic attack when I saw I had to remove my shoes because they would leave a white powder trail. So I devised a plan. First I pulled out the Japanese hand towel I carry with me at all times and then I stepped out of my shoes but stayed standing on them. My next move was pretty brilliant. I fumbled with my purse and “accidently” dropped it on my feet – oopsies - giving me enough time to quickly whisk away my powered feet. Crisis averted. I managed to avoid a foot power trail onto the burgundy carpeting.
Oddly reminiscent of pictures I have seen of immigrants coming to America, everyone picked a spot on the floor, picked up a complementary blanket and either went to sleep or watched TV. So I followed suit and wedged my way between two Japanese teenagers that had already fallen asleep (we had literally just bored the ferry). Japanese people can fall asleep anywhere! Last time I came to Japan I had the problem of people falling asleep on me riding home on the train. I would have to elbow them, or their head would be resting in my lap. Surprisingly they always woke up right before their stop. Japanese magic. But, to go back to the ferry. The teenagers were asleep next to me and I had barely enough room to spread out my feet while leaning on the wall. Luckily I got a wall spot, however, my feet dangerously were situated next to the head of a mother and son sleeping in the middle section of the carpet. The mother kept looking up at my feet, and I expected that something was wrong with them. So, I checked my feet: fine. Even though there were no traces of white powder she kept looking uncomfortable. So I have no idea if my feet were ugly, if I was in her space, or if it was the fact that I am a foreigner. None the less this made me really uncomfortable. Lesson learned from my ferry experience: don’t put on gold bond, wear socks instead, and be the first one to board the ferry so you can claim territory instead of invading other people’s. Besides my turmoil, we sailed smoothly to Sasebo.
The plan in Nagasaki was to meet up with ALTs from the Nagasaki prefecture and enjoy the Obon festival. Thankfully, Emily – a friend I met at orientation – so kindly allowed me to stay at her place for the night. She boarded so many ALTs for the weekend at her place that we all joked that she was running a mini hostel. Although Emily technically resides in Nagasaki city, her place is more of a suburb. Let me tell you, her area is nice and is without a doubt more affluent than my area in Arikawa. Drum roll…she even has a dryer in her apartment. Surprising, I know, that I am worked up about a dryer, but hardly anyone own a dryer in Japan. Basically, owning a dryer is unheard of, and Emily is the only ALT I know that owns one. Lucky! On the bright side, I am saving electricity. From what I understand her predecessor had a Japanese girl friend who elevated the apartment to a Japanese cleanliness and organizational standard. So, Emily doesn’t really have to do much in terms of cleaning or re-decorating, except for the shower. The shower works and is nice, but it is odd. Cranking a handle is the only way to generate heat. I am not sure how this works, but I do know that it is loud and more complicated that just turning on the faucet. Some areas in Japanese technology are first rate…while other sectors of technology seem to fail to catch up (air-conditioners!).
In total, five guests stayed at her apartment for the two nights I stayed there. It was crowded, but I got to sleep on a futon, and can fall asleep almost anywhere (like a Japanese person) so I was fine.
Walking to school today (10 mins) was so much hotter than usually. All I wanted was to get into the air conditioned teachers room, collapse and complain to other teachers how hot it is. Even though it is hot every day, without fail everyone says, “Atsui ne?,” meaning, “It’s hot right?” To which everyone responds, “hai sugoku atsui yo,” roughly translated, “Yeah, so freakin hot.” Today I expected the same circumstances because usually at school when I walk in through the door I only see maybe five – at most – teachers sitting in their desks. But today EVERYONE was there. Strange. I walked into a meeting, of which I had not been informed of that had clearly been going on since before my start time. I guess they figure I lack the language skills to understand the meeting. True, however, being employed by the school I want to know when teacher events are taking place. My goal is to slowly inform the teachers that I want to be included in these meetings. Nakamura sensei gave me a piece of paper and explained that there are meetings all day, and that I should just use my computer.
Back to Nagasaki. I bought a yukatta which looks like a kimono, but instead of silk it is made of cotton and commonly worn at festivals. Picking one out proved to be difficult! The patterns and the colors are important because the way I see it, a yukatta is a reflection of your personality. Because my yukatta has bright colors and a bold pattern I would say that my yukatta reflects my outgoing and fun nature. Without realizing it, I picked a very islandy looking one and I heightened that aspect by wearing a flower right above one of my ears. So cute, right?
I bought a yukatta – it’s always good to have one living in Japan – mostly because all the ALTs planned to wear yukatta the night of the 15th (the big day of the festival). Traditionally Japanese wear yukatta for festivals, and so we felt that Obon festival gave us an excuse to wear our yukatta and fit in at the festival.
Yeah, we did look cute but we were far from fitting in. Where were the yukattas? As soon as we boarded the bus we realized that no one wore a yukatta. At first I thought that people during Obon – a somber event – don’t wear yukatta. We later learned many people didn’t wear yukatta because they were afraid that it would rain and ruin the cloth. But, we didn’t learn this until the next day. Can’t you imagine how we looked at Obon? Not only were there the six ALTs staying at Emily’s house, but three more girls met up with us so that we could all help each other put on the yukatta. In total, we had a group composed of all foreigners: eight girls all in bright colored yukattas and one guy in a traditional jinbe.
We stood out like a sore thumb. Some of the people couldn’t stop staring, and people started taking pictures of us. Immediately I thought since Obon festival remembers departed souls, we somehow dressed inappropriately. And I felt like I had worn a bright yellow sun dress to a funeral. Like, a good gainjin I decided to roll with the punches and play into the stupid foreigner card. Although people usually wear yukatta at Bon, as I have mentioned the weather played into the decision for most people not to wear a yukatta on this day. Japanese pay very close attention to weather related events and seasons. For instance, if it is winter everyone wears a jacket; temperature is irrelevant to the clothing choice. But, in the case of rain – if there is a slight chance – people don’t want to ruin yukatta so no one wears one. Essentially we stood out because we – like unknowing gaijin – decided to wear our yukatta anyway. What I am trying to explain is that if it had been clear weather we wouldn’t have stood out, but since there was a chance of rain all the Japanese people couldn’t believe we risked wearing our yukatta. But, I am glad we did because I had so much fun!
The boat floats were everywhere. Even throughout the day people began walking their boats through every part of the city on the way toward the downtown area. You couldn’t miss the boats at any time during the day. At every stop people lit the firework, altering everyone in the surrounding area of their presence. During my visit to the Peace Park (the hypocenter of the A-bomb) I couldn’t miss the loud popping noises in the distance, and I caught my first glimpse of the group of matching men in jinbe surrounding the float. Along with the fireworks kids led the procession by banging on a gong. Everyone had a role in each group. A couple people lit fireworks in front and behind the float, some people banged on the gong, and depending on the size of the float an equal amount of men (usually men) lined either side of the float and push the cart forward.
Before I get to ahead of myself, I should talk a bit about the Peace Park and museum. As an American, I feel a certain draw to understand the history (even if it is dark) between Japan and America. Even though I feel a certain personal magnetic pull to visit both A-bomb sites, at the same time I feel a cultural push and expectation to visit the hypocenter of the bomb. I can’t explain my reasoning for this, but I know that other Americans feel the same way. If I ignored the A-bomb site and museum, it is almost like scoffing at and ignoring the horrible events that took place on August 9th at 11:02 A.M. in Nagasaki. When I visit (especially during Obon) I feel like I am giving my respects to all of the lives lost as a result of the A-bomb (around 130,000 people died). But maybe more importantly, by visiting I want to show that I am an advocate of peace, and that I am not afraid to acknowledge the destruction and learn from the personal experiences of bomb survivors.
Unlike Hiroshima, Nagasaki attempted an objective approach. Of course it is almost impossible to achieve this when your city is only one of two in the world destroyed by an atomic bomb, but they were objective considering their fate. Hiroshima tried to question why the bomb had to be dropped on a city, why there had to be a second bomb dropped, why did they drop it against the scientists of the Manhattan project’s wills, why did they choose these specific targets, why weren’t the cities warned prior to the drops,etc. Interestingly Hiroshima made a good point that the choice had personal ties. For instance, one general refused to have a bomb dropped on Kyoto since he spent his honeymoon there. But, Nagasaki left out information like this because arguably that story might not be as concretely true as Hiroshima insists. Instead, Nagasaki focused on personal stories and events, and talked specifically about the stages of the bomb. That is, how hot temperatures rose at certain distances from the hypocenter and how powerful the blast was. Many bottles, roof tiles, and trees showed the bubbling caused by the intense heat. Many stories and personal items filled the museum. Some sections informed museum goers about stages of radiation and showed graphic pictures of skin burned off and keloid scars.
All the pictures of the burn victims almost brought me to tears. Even now when thinking about how many people suffered, upsets me. Perhaps the item that stood out to me the most was a lunch box of a school girl. Displayed under the picture of the girl, this lunch box still had all of the food items intact, but was completely charred. Essentially the lunch box had been preserved like a time capsule and even individual grains of rice could still be seen. Right now I am having a hard time describing how it affected me so deeply. Maybe because I started to think about how unknowingly this school girl sat at her desk thinking about her regular day and how soon (around 11 o’clock) she would finally get some lunch. Of course made this up in my head, but I started thinking about how so many people had no idea what would happen, and how instantaneously some many lives disintegrated. They hadn’t been able to find this girl; the only thing that remained of her on that day was her lunch box with her name engraved on the bottom. It was a piece of her on that day almost perfectly preserved, and a memory that her life had been unknowingly swept away. I hope that explains my jumble of thoughts. I find it so difficult to describe, and so I encourage anyone who gets a chance to visit the Nagasaki A-bomb museum to truly make an effort to understand that peace is necessary so that no A-bomb will be dropped again.
On a lighter note, Obon exceeded my expectations. The atmosphere and excitement truly affected everyone around the festival. All the roads downtown had been shut down for the parade of boats, and in some spots the only lights came from the lanterns on the boats themselves. Tons of people lined the street on both sides and tons of fireworks exploded in the middle of the street. I have never seen as much litter in Japan until the night of Obon. Since people discarded firework box where ever the street was barely visible under the mounds of trash. So strange to see in Japan, but it made it all the more exciting and different than any other Japan experience I have had. Instead of me explaining forever what the floats looked like, look at the pictures for youself (the link is on an older post). Experiencing Obon in Nagasaki was worth it, even though it was expensive!
Planning my trip back didn’t go too well. I had just enough, again, to make it back to Shinkamigoto on the fast boat. Bad decision. Unfortunately the fast boat is not only expensive, but pretty far from my house. I had the idea that I could catch a bus from Taonora (where the boat lands in Shinkamigoto) regardless of the fact that I didn’t look up the schedule. Also, I wore jeans that day – really bad decision in this heat – because someone told me I would need jeans to protect myself from the ground fireworks at Obon. To my disadvantage on this exceptionally hot day, they were my only set of clean clothes. Since I thought I could take a bus back home, wearing jeans didn’t seem too stupid. But, it was. Let me tell you, skinny jeans in humid heat makes for a miserable 1.5 mile hike while carrying duffle bags.
Upon arriving in Taonora I was informed that the last bus of the day just departed ten minutes ago. What to do? Not having enough money for a taxi, I opted to walk in my jeans on this hot hot day all the way back to my house. Carrying my bags I set off in the direction – I hoped – was Arikawa. Thankfully it was, but it took me a good hour and ten minutes to finally reach my destination! And, another problem I faced was figuring out how to get to Nice Buddy later that night for a BBQ they invited me to. I didn’t have anyone’s number from Nice Buddy because I had just gotten my phone on Thursday. But fate was on my side! Thankfully after all my misfortunes of the day, I ran into Natsun – one of the owner of Nice Buddy – on the walk home. If I hadn’t I think I would have collapsed on my bed and not been able to make it all the way to the BBQ. After exchanging numbers and explaining my situation she offered a ride later in the day. Halleluiah!
I won’t go into details of the BBQ, but instead focus on what’s interesting. I ate sheep, goat, sea snail, and beef. Funny, but true, goat kinda tastes like how they smell. Taste wise, I haven’t made up my mind whether I actually liked it or not. And raw goat meat tasted better than when cooked. At first I thought they were playing a trick on my and trying to get me to eat a raw meat that I shouldn’t. So I had them eat the raw goat first. They did, so I did. And it was delicious! Raw goat is tasty, but raw sea snail not so much. I happened to eat some raw sea snail sashimi in Nagasaki. It looked like the multicolored gizzards of a chicken with boogers all over it, and I think it tasted pretty much how it looked. And it was so incredibly slimly I had a hard time handling it with my chopstick. Instead of gracefully placing it in my mouth, I had to scoop it in. In my mouth the booger sack burst open and a flood of extremely mushy cream of wheat textured goo poured out. Delicious. Joking, because seriously it was nasty. Cooked sea snail actually tastes good, but it is just one of those things that shouldn’t be eaten raw. So adding goat and sea snail onto the list of sashimi, I have also added cooked sheep (I have eaten lamb, but full grown is different) onto my new foods list. I really like.
*Hahaha, there is a break between meetings and people started taking about how hot it is, and when the heat will end.
Sheep in Japanese is pronounced jingesukan, which sounds an awful lot like Ghengis Khan the Mongol conqueror. So they kept talking about how we were going to eat Ghengis Khan, and I didn’t understand. And I kept asking why they said we were eating a Mongol. It took forever to explain what I meant, but towards the end of the night everyone started calling the sheep monguru-jin (Mongolian person).
I really like the whole Nice Buddy family! Techan and Natsun have three kids: two girls and one boy. And the girls are interested in talking to Robin and me. I think they want to learn English from us, and I figure that my free English lessons are in exchange for the extra benefits (like dinner) that Nice Buddy has given me. The little boy (8 years old) keeps showing me all the bugs he catches. Here in Japan little boys catch a certain type of beetle. The more you have the cooler you are. Techan keeps calling his soon “hero” because he has so many bugs, and explained that he is a really manly cool little boy for catching these beetles (they are not dangerous) and so they call him a hero for it. I think that they look really nasty, but I am not a huge fan of bugs in general. But, every time I go to Nice Buddy the little boy shows me his beetle collection because he keeps them in a tank like pets. Last time he showed me almost all of the bugs in one of the terrariums had died, and he didn’t seem too upset. I told him all had died, but he assured me that there were live ones at the bottom of the sod. So he dug through the layers of dead beetles and moist sod to prove that in fact live beetles did escape death. Gross.
After my dive on Monday night, Nastun served me dinner at Nice Buddy. I sat there for a good while trying to explain the pronunciation difference between frog and flag. When it comes to pronunciation my linguistic training comes as an advantage.
*Best time ever at work. I went out of the teacher’s lounge to go to the bathroom, and what do I hear but Thriller playing the background. So I went over to investigate and almost all of the third year students were practicing the dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller video! So cool to see all of the students doing this dance. They told me that they are practicing for sports day where they are all going to perform the dance together. Some taught me some of the moves, and I started to join in and practice with them. So much fun!
I’ll write about meeting the mayor tomorrow. I have already written so much!
Careful planning ensured that I could make it to Nagasaki last weekend. And, I just barely made it. I had to go the long way through Sasebo. I chose this route because the Sasebo ferry is walk distance from my house, and because it is one of the cheaper routes to Nagasaki. On the downside, this route takes forever, but on the upside I get to see the beautiful country side. And it was a perfect day for taking the long scenic route. Finally the sun had come out – it has been pretty cloudy most of the time here – and made all the colors intense and vibrant. Reminding me of my high school Coaster days, I loved seeing the sea from my window of the train. It was a good relaxing break before all of the excitement in Nagasaki.
Before I get ahead of myself I should describe the ferry. There were no seats. When I walked inside there were only four sections of carpet elevated from the main aisle. Since I am in Japan, everyone took off their shoes before stepping up onto the carpet. I should have foreseen this event – removal of the shoes – but alas I did not. I had sprinkled a hefty amount of Gold Bond into my shoes in preparation of the hot humid Nagasaki weather. At first I had just sprinkled it in the shoes, but upon further consideration I felt that a bigger more ample amount would prevent foot odor. And those of you who have used Gold Bond know that it is very fine white powder, and in this instance completely covered my feet. Although a great idea to prevent foot odor, it wasn’t such a great idea when confronted with taking off my shoes. I nearly had a panic attack when I saw I had to remove my shoes because they would leave a white powder trail. So I devised a plan. First I pulled out the Japanese hand towel I carry with me at all times and then I stepped out of my shoes but stayed standing on them. My next move was pretty brilliant. I fumbled with my purse and “accidently” dropped it on my feet – oopsies - giving me enough time to quickly whisk away my powered feet. Crisis averted. I managed to avoid a foot power trail onto the burgundy carpeting.
Oddly reminiscent of pictures I have seen of immigrants coming to America, everyone picked a spot on the floor, picked up a complementary blanket and either went to sleep or watched TV. So I followed suit and wedged my way between two Japanese teenagers that had already fallen asleep (we had literally just bored the ferry). Japanese people can fall asleep anywhere! Last time I came to Japan I had the problem of people falling asleep on me riding home on the train. I would have to elbow them, or their head would be resting in my lap. Surprisingly they always woke up right before their stop. Japanese magic. But, to go back to the ferry. The teenagers were asleep next to me and I had barely enough room to spread out my feet while leaning on the wall. Luckily I got a wall spot, however, my feet dangerously were situated next to the head of a mother and son sleeping in the middle section of the carpet. The mother kept looking up at my feet, and I expected that something was wrong with them. So, I checked my feet: fine. Even though there were no traces of white powder she kept looking uncomfortable. So I have no idea if my feet were ugly, if I was in her space, or if it was the fact that I am a foreigner. None the less this made me really uncomfortable. Lesson learned from my ferry experience: don’t put on gold bond, wear socks instead, and be the first one to board the ferry so you can claim territory instead of invading other people’s. Besides my turmoil, we sailed smoothly to Sasebo.
The plan in Nagasaki was to meet up with ALTs from the Nagasaki prefecture and enjoy the Obon festival. Thankfully, Emily – a friend I met at orientation – so kindly allowed me to stay at her place for the night. She boarded so many ALTs for the weekend at her place that we all joked that she was running a mini hostel. Although Emily technically resides in Nagasaki city, her place is more of a suburb. Let me tell you, her area is nice and is without a doubt more affluent than my area in Arikawa. Drum roll…she even has a dryer in her apartment. Surprising, I know, that I am worked up about a dryer, but hardly anyone own a dryer in Japan. Basically, owning a dryer is unheard of, and Emily is the only ALT I know that owns one. Lucky! On the bright side, I am saving electricity. From what I understand her predecessor had a Japanese girl friend who elevated the apartment to a Japanese cleanliness and organizational standard. So, Emily doesn’t really have to do much in terms of cleaning or re-decorating, except for the shower. The shower works and is nice, but it is odd. Cranking a handle is the only way to generate heat. I am not sure how this works, but I do know that it is loud and more complicated that just turning on the faucet. Some areas in Japanese technology are first rate…while other sectors of technology seem to fail to catch up (air-conditioners!).
In total, five guests stayed at her apartment for the two nights I stayed there. It was crowded, but I got to sleep on a futon, and can fall asleep almost anywhere (like a Japanese person) so I was fine.
Walking to school today (10 mins) was so much hotter than usually. All I wanted was to get into the air conditioned teachers room, collapse and complain to other teachers how hot it is. Even though it is hot every day, without fail everyone says, “Atsui ne?,” meaning, “It’s hot right?” To which everyone responds, “hai sugoku atsui yo,” roughly translated, “Yeah, so freakin hot.” Today I expected the same circumstances because usually at school when I walk in through the door I only see maybe five – at most – teachers sitting in their desks. But today EVERYONE was there. Strange. I walked into a meeting, of which I had not been informed of that had clearly been going on since before my start time. I guess they figure I lack the language skills to understand the meeting. True, however, being employed by the school I want to know when teacher events are taking place. My goal is to slowly inform the teachers that I want to be included in these meetings. Nakamura sensei gave me a piece of paper and explained that there are meetings all day, and that I should just use my computer.
Back to Nagasaki. I bought a yukatta which looks like a kimono, but instead of silk it is made of cotton and commonly worn at festivals. Picking one out proved to be difficult! The patterns and the colors are important because the way I see it, a yukatta is a reflection of your personality. Because my yukatta has bright colors and a bold pattern I would say that my yukatta reflects my outgoing and fun nature. Without realizing it, I picked a very islandy looking one and I heightened that aspect by wearing a flower right above one of my ears. So cute, right?
I bought a yukatta – it’s always good to have one living in Japan – mostly because all the ALTs planned to wear yukatta the night of the 15th (the big day of the festival). Traditionally Japanese wear yukatta for festivals, and so we felt that Obon festival gave us an excuse to wear our yukatta and fit in at the festival.
Yeah, we did look cute but we were far from fitting in. Where were the yukattas? As soon as we boarded the bus we realized that no one wore a yukatta. At first I thought that people during Obon – a somber event – don’t wear yukatta. We later learned many people didn’t wear yukatta because they were afraid that it would rain and ruin the cloth. But, we didn’t learn this until the next day. Can’t you imagine how we looked at Obon? Not only were there the six ALTs staying at Emily’s house, but three more girls met up with us so that we could all help each other put on the yukatta. In total, we had a group composed of all foreigners: eight girls all in bright colored yukattas and one guy in a traditional jinbe.
We stood out like a sore thumb. Some of the people couldn’t stop staring, and people started taking pictures of us. Immediately I thought since Obon festival remembers departed souls, we somehow dressed inappropriately. And I felt like I had worn a bright yellow sun dress to a funeral. Like, a good gainjin I decided to roll with the punches and play into the stupid foreigner card. Although people usually wear yukatta at Bon, as I have mentioned the weather played into the decision for most people not to wear a yukatta on this day. Japanese pay very close attention to weather related events and seasons. For instance, if it is winter everyone wears a jacket; temperature is irrelevant to the clothing choice. But, in the case of rain – if there is a slight chance – people don’t want to ruin yukatta so no one wears one. Essentially we stood out because we – like unknowing gaijin – decided to wear our yukatta anyway. What I am trying to explain is that if it had been clear weather we wouldn’t have stood out, but since there was a chance of rain all the Japanese people couldn’t believe we risked wearing our yukatta. But, I am glad we did because I had so much fun!
The boat floats were everywhere. Even throughout the day people began walking their boats through every part of the city on the way toward the downtown area. You couldn’t miss the boats at any time during the day. At every stop people lit the firework, altering everyone in the surrounding area of their presence. During my visit to the Peace Park (the hypocenter of the A-bomb) I couldn’t miss the loud popping noises in the distance, and I caught my first glimpse of the group of matching men in jinbe surrounding the float. Along with the fireworks kids led the procession by banging on a gong. Everyone had a role in each group. A couple people lit fireworks in front and behind the float, some people banged on the gong, and depending on the size of the float an equal amount of men (usually men) lined either side of the float and push the cart forward.
Before I get to ahead of myself, I should talk a bit about the Peace Park and museum. As an American, I feel a certain draw to understand the history (even if it is dark) between Japan and America. Even though I feel a certain personal magnetic pull to visit both A-bomb sites, at the same time I feel a cultural push and expectation to visit the hypocenter of the bomb. I can’t explain my reasoning for this, but I know that other Americans feel the same way. If I ignored the A-bomb site and museum, it is almost like scoffing at and ignoring the horrible events that took place on August 9th at 11:02 A.M. in Nagasaki. When I visit (especially during Obon) I feel like I am giving my respects to all of the lives lost as a result of the A-bomb (around 130,000 people died). But maybe more importantly, by visiting I want to show that I am an advocate of peace, and that I am not afraid to acknowledge the destruction and learn from the personal experiences of bomb survivors.
Unlike Hiroshima, Nagasaki attempted an objective approach. Of course it is almost impossible to achieve this when your city is only one of two in the world destroyed by an atomic bomb, but they were objective considering their fate. Hiroshima tried to question why the bomb had to be dropped on a city, why there had to be a second bomb dropped, why did they drop it against the scientists of the Manhattan project’s wills, why did they choose these specific targets, why weren’t the cities warned prior to the drops,etc. Interestingly Hiroshima made a good point that the choice had personal ties. For instance, one general refused to have a bomb dropped on Kyoto since he spent his honeymoon there. But, Nagasaki left out information like this because arguably that story might not be as concretely true as Hiroshima insists. Instead, Nagasaki focused on personal stories and events, and talked specifically about the stages of the bomb. That is, how hot temperatures rose at certain distances from the hypocenter and how powerful the blast was. Many bottles, roof tiles, and trees showed the bubbling caused by the intense heat. Many stories and personal items filled the museum. Some sections informed museum goers about stages of radiation and showed graphic pictures of skin burned off and keloid scars.
All the pictures of the burn victims almost brought me to tears. Even now when thinking about how many people suffered, upsets me. Perhaps the item that stood out to me the most was a lunch box of a school girl. Displayed under the picture of the girl, this lunch box still had all of the food items intact, but was completely charred. Essentially the lunch box had been preserved like a time capsule and even individual grains of rice could still be seen. Right now I am having a hard time describing how it affected me so deeply. Maybe because I started to think about how unknowingly this school girl sat at her desk thinking about her regular day and how soon (around 11 o’clock) she would finally get some lunch. Of course made this up in my head, but I started thinking about how so many people had no idea what would happen, and how instantaneously some many lives disintegrated. They hadn’t been able to find this girl; the only thing that remained of her on that day was her lunch box with her name engraved on the bottom. It was a piece of her on that day almost perfectly preserved, and a memory that her life had been unknowingly swept away. I hope that explains my jumble of thoughts. I find it so difficult to describe, and so I encourage anyone who gets a chance to visit the Nagasaki A-bomb museum to truly make an effort to understand that peace is necessary so that no A-bomb will be dropped again.
On a lighter note, Obon exceeded my expectations. The atmosphere and excitement truly affected everyone around the festival. All the roads downtown had been shut down for the parade of boats, and in some spots the only lights came from the lanterns on the boats themselves. Tons of people lined the street on both sides and tons of fireworks exploded in the middle of the street. I have never seen as much litter in Japan until the night of Obon. Since people discarded firework box where ever the street was barely visible under the mounds of trash. So strange to see in Japan, but it made it all the more exciting and different than any other Japan experience I have had. Instead of me explaining forever what the floats looked like, look at the pictures for youself (the link is on an older post). Experiencing Obon in Nagasaki was worth it, even though it was expensive!
Planning my trip back didn’t go too well. I had just enough, again, to make it back to Shinkamigoto on the fast boat. Bad decision. Unfortunately the fast boat is not only expensive, but pretty far from my house. I had the idea that I could catch a bus from Taonora (where the boat lands in Shinkamigoto) regardless of the fact that I didn’t look up the schedule. Also, I wore jeans that day – really bad decision in this heat – because someone told me I would need jeans to protect myself from the ground fireworks at Obon. To my disadvantage on this exceptionally hot day, they were my only set of clean clothes. Since I thought I could take a bus back home, wearing jeans didn’t seem too stupid. But, it was. Let me tell you, skinny jeans in humid heat makes for a miserable 1.5 mile hike while carrying duffle bags.
Upon arriving in Taonora I was informed that the last bus of the day just departed ten minutes ago. What to do? Not having enough money for a taxi, I opted to walk in my jeans on this hot hot day all the way back to my house. Carrying my bags I set off in the direction – I hoped – was Arikawa. Thankfully it was, but it took me a good hour and ten minutes to finally reach my destination! And, another problem I faced was figuring out how to get to Nice Buddy later that night for a BBQ they invited me to. I didn’t have anyone’s number from Nice Buddy because I had just gotten my phone on Thursday. But fate was on my side! Thankfully after all my misfortunes of the day, I ran into Natsun – one of the owner of Nice Buddy – on the walk home. If I hadn’t I think I would have collapsed on my bed and not been able to make it all the way to the BBQ. After exchanging numbers and explaining my situation she offered a ride later in the day. Halleluiah!
I won’t go into details of the BBQ, but instead focus on what’s interesting. I ate sheep, goat, sea snail, and beef. Funny, but true, goat kinda tastes like how they smell. Taste wise, I haven’t made up my mind whether I actually liked it or not. And raw goat meat tasted better than when cooked. At first I thought they were playing a trick on my and trying to get me to eat a raw meat that I shouldn’t. So I had them eat the raw goat first. They did, so I did. And it was delicious! Raw goat is tasty, but raw sea snail not so much. I happened to eat some raw sea snail sashimi in Nagasaki. It looked like the multicolored gizzards of a chicken with boogers all over it, and I think it tasted pretty much how it looked. And it was so incredibly slimly I had a hard time handling it with my chopstick. Instead of gracefully placing it in my mouth, I had to scoop it in. In my mouth the booger sack burst open and a flood of extremely mushy cream of wheat textured goo poured out. Delicious. Joking, because seriously it was nasty. Cooked sea snail actually tastes good, but it is just one of those things that shouldn’t be eaten raw. So adding goat and sea snail onto the list of sashimi, I have also added cooked sheep (I have eaten lamb, but full grown is different) onto my new foods list. I really like.
*Hahaha, there is a break between meetings and people started taking about how hot it is, and when the heat will end.
Sheep in Japanese is pronounced jingesukan, which sounds an awful lot like Ghengis Khan the Mongol conqueror. So they kept talking about how we were going to eat Ghengis Khan, and I didn’t understand. And I kept asking why they said we were eating a Mongol. It took forever to explain what I meant, but towards the end of the night everyone started calling the sheep monguru-jin (Mongolian person).
I really like the whole Nice Buddy family! Techan and Natsun have three kids: two girls and one boy. And the girls are interested in talking to Robin and me. I think they want to learn English from us, and I figure that my free English lessons are in exchange for the extra benefits (like dinner) that Nice Buddy has given me. The little boy (8 years old) keeps showing me all the bugs he catches. Here in Japan little boys catch a certain type of beetle. The more you have the cooler you are. Techan keeps calling his soon “hero” because he has so many bugs, and explained that he is a really manly cool little boy for catching these beetles (they are not dangerous) and so they call him a hero for it. I think that they look really nasty, but I am not a huge fan of bugs in general. But, every time I go to Nice Buddy the little boy shows me his beetle collection because he keeps them in a tank like pets. Last time he showed me almost all of the bugs in one of the terrariums had died, and he didn’t seem too upset. I told him all had died, but he assured me that there were live ones at the bottom of the sod. So he dug through the layers of dead beetles and moist sod to prove that in fact live beetles did escape death. Gross.
After my dive on Monday night, Nastun served me dinner at Nice Buddy. I sat there for a good while trying to explain the pronunciation difference between frog and flag. When it comes to pronunciation my linguistic training comes as an advantage.
*Best time ever at work. I went out of the teacher’s lounge to go to the bathroom, and what do I hear but Thriller playing the background. So I went over to investigate and almost all of the third year students were practicing the dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller video! So cool to see all of the students doing this dance. They told me that they are practicing for sports day where they are all going to perform the dance together. Some taught me some of the moves, and I started to join in and practice with them. So much fun!
I’ll write about meeting the mayor tomorrow. I have already written so much!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Kurapu Kurapu
I won't be able to blog about the weekend until tomorrow :( I am so exhausted from everything!! There seems to be no time in the day anymore.
I wanted to post something before I went to sleep. It's more like my time to vent than talking about events.
No, I am not going to talk badly about Japanese people, but instead I am going to complain about my toilet situation. At first I was overjoyed to know that I had a western style toilet. "Thank you, there is a god," I thought as I peered inside and walked away. - side note: traditional Japanese toilets are squat toilets and you can't exactly relax with a magazine - To give you an idea of the bathroom (or maybe just toilet room is better): it is a closet sized space which includes the western appearing toilet and a small strange sink. I noticed something else that was very strange, a gun looking water sprayer hung next to the toilet. From my experience with the highly technologically advanced toilets in Tokyo, I though maybe it was a bidet. I was so wrong.
So, overwhelmed by my sense of good fortune I missed the horrible smell even though I examined the strange gun. But, I sure noticed it the first time I went into the bathroom. I had to hurry to finish my business and bolt out of there. When I flushed the familiar swirl and rush of water were replaced by the opening of a flap in the bottom of the bowl and a stream of water. Interesting, maybe the toilets flush differently here in Arikawa? No.
My toilet as I have come to realize is just a glorified outhouse attached to my house. The flap separates the septic tank sitting just below my bathroom from the rest of the house. Even though my predecessor told me I had a septic tank bill I didn't think that it would be a flap away from my house.
The most startling aspect of the flap happens to be the sounds it makes: the clap. If you happen to have good aim you can measure your craps in claps. By this I mean, the flap can't hold much weight. What you do hits the flap, the flap opens, flaps back up and makes a clapping noise. The first time this happened I was really surprised and was afraid that something was crawling through the flap. Not so, just my own doing. I am so sorry that I am being so graphic, but I just need to vent about my kurapu kurapu.
Kurapu kurapu you ask? Well sound it out. Ku-ra-pu. Huh, kinda like "crap". But if you were Japanese it would also sound like "clap" - Japanese can't make the /r/ /l/ distinction. Hence: kurapu kurapu. A play on words in Japanese to mean both crap and clap, and since you can measure your craps in claps, this is the new name of my toilet.
Basically I have an outhouse for a toilet, which explains why I can't kill the smell. And don't get my started about the really hot humid days here. No matter how much I try to make it smell like lavender it doesn't work. I have two general air fresheners, and toilet attachment, a freshener to put in the sink, and the spray. Nothing works for more than an hour! It's best just to avoid the bathroom during the lunch hours. In the beginning I blamed the smell on Joe, but now I understand that nothing can be done.
And I figured out the purpose of the spray gun. The bowl doesn't fill up with water after flushing. Adding to this problem, is the fact that the water pressure when flushing doesn't do very much. Every time that you can't aim directly on the flap, the gun assists in removing anything you don't want stinking up your bathroom. So this makes a separate problem. Spraying away unwanted visuals means that you have to be careful. Sprayer beware because you might splash some of what you clean onto your legs. Gross.
I think I would prefer an outhouse to the kurapu kurapu. Venting complete.
I wanted to post something before I went to sleep. It's more like my time to vent than talking about events.
No, I am not going to talk badly about Japanese people, but instead I am going to complain about my toilet situation. At first I was overjoyed to know that I had a western style toilet. "Thank you, there is a god," I thought as I peered inside and walked away. - side note: traditional Japanese toilets are squat toilets and you can't exactly relax with a magazine - To give you an idea of the bathroom (or maybe just toilet room is better): it is a closet sized space which includes the western appearing toilet and a small strange sink. I noticed something else that was very strange, a gun looking water sprayer hung next to the toilet. From my experience with the highly technologically advanced toilets in Tokyo, I though maybe it was a bidet. I was so wrong.
So, overwhelmed by my sense of good fortune I missed the horrible smell even though I examined the strange gun. But, I sure noticed it the first time I went into the bathroom. I had to hurry to finish my business and bolt out of there. When I flushed the familiar swirl and rush of water were replaced by the opening of a flap in the bottom of the bowl and a stream of water. Interesting, maybe the toilets flush differently here in Arikawa? No.
My toilet as I have come to realize is just a glorified outhouse attached to my house. The flap separates the septic tank sitting just below my bathroom from the rest of the house. Even though my predecessor told me I had a septic tank bill I didn't think that it would be a flap away from my house.
The most startling aspect of the flap happens to be the sounds it makes: the clap. If you happen to have good aim you can measure your craps in claps. By this I mean, the flap can't hold much weight. What you do hits the flap, the flap opens, flaps back up and makes a clapping noise. The first time this happened I was really surprised and was afraid that something was crawling through the flap. Not so, just my own doing. I am so sorry that I am being so graphic, but I just need to vent about my kurapu kurapu.
Kurapu kurapu you ask? Well sound it out. Ku-ra-pu. Huh, kinda like "crap". But if you were Japanese it would also sound like "clap" - Japanese can't make the /r/ /l/ distinction. Hence: kurapu kurapu. A play on words in Japanese to mean both crap and clap, and since you can measure your craps in claps, this is the new name of my toilet.
Basically I have an outhouse for a toilet, which explains why I can't kill the smell. And don't get my started about the really hot humid days here. No matter how much I try to make it smell like lavender it doesn't work. I have two general air fresheners, and toilet attachment, a freshener to put in the sink, and the spray. Nothing works for more than an hour! It's best just to avoid the bathroom during the lunch hours. In the beginning I blamed the smell on Joe, but now I understand that nothing can be done.
And I figured out the purpose of the spray gun. The bowl doesn't fill up with water after flushing. Adding to this problem, is the fact that the water pressure when flushing doesn't do very much. Every time that you can't aim directly on the flap, the gun assists in removing anything you don't want stinking up your bathroom. So this makes a separate problem. Spraying away unwanted visuals means that you have to be careful. Sprayer beware because you might splash some of what you clean onto your legs. Gross.
I think I would prefer an outhouse to the kurapu kurapu. Venting complete.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Pictures
Finally got the internet up at my house!!!! Crazy, it almost doesn't feel right anymore. Well, I hate to say it, but I am so tired I can't find the strength to write anything. Don't worry I have a lot to say. But...in the mean time, pictures!! I am posting links to picasa and you can view them there. I only made some comments on the pictures from this last weekend, but I will go through all of the pictures in time!
Obon Festival (this weekend)
shinkamigoto
more shinkamigoto
house cleaning (don't judge me, this was when I first got there)
Arrival to Shinkamigoto
Orientation
New ALTs
Peace Day Assembly
Office
Obon Festival (this weekend)
shinkamigoto
more shinkamigoto
house cleaning (don't judge me, this was when I first got there)
Arrival to Shinkamigoto
Orientation
New ALTs
Peace Day Assembly
Office
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