There's about 5 weeks of the school year left, and I'm glad because the needle on my Japanese B.S.-Tolerance Gauge has been taking precarious dips in the red lately. Of course, I'm talking about JHS life.
So, in class yesterday, a third-year boy named Tetsuro said the word "nigger" to me, out of the blue. It actually sounded more like "nee gah," a mispronunciation byproduct of the effed-up speak known domestically as "Japanese English." Despite the mispronunciation, which sucked just about all of the impact out of the word, I picked up on it immediately. At the time, I was walking around the classroom preparing students to pair off to play a game. I'd just approached Tetsuro's desk, when he suddenly uttered the word, followed by a sheepish chuckle. The boy sitting across from him, Kauzuki instantly warned him to be quiet-- he knew better. In Japanese, I instantly asked "What did you say?" and "Who taught you that word?" Embarrassed, he clammed up, leaving Kazuki to answer in his stead "He doesn't know." I then calmly instructed him to not to say it again. He complied.
Now, for a split second, I was faced with the decision to get angry and blow the incident up into a major issue, which could have gotten ugly. But for some reason, I chose not to get upset, simply due to the fact that this 15-year old kid had no clue what world he was about to enter by trying to be funny, unmaliciously spouting some mangled word he heard from one of his wiseass friends, or probably read in some J-hip-hop magazine. The concept that he could he hospitalized just for saying that one word alone was miles over his head. That, and the fact that Tetsuro is one of the most unproductive kids in his grade and about as bright as a black hole actually made me feel sympathy for him. Obviously, a country-ass kid as dull as that couldn't come from parents too much brighter; afterall, he's not so much of a bad kid, he's just dumb as hell, so I couldn't really hold it against him, even though I wanted to smack him in the mouth. But, damn, hearing a racial epithet in an environment where I'm already virtually socially ostracized is like tossing a fat straw on a creaking camel's back. I really don't want to have to hurt any students, or teachers for that matter. I'm about 90% sure if it had been any J-person on the street, It would've gotten physical, joking or not.
These days I've been feeling like the brothas on the Brooklyn stoop of Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing"--Step on my Nikes and catch a beat-down.
Feb 6, 2005
DAMN, IT'S COLD
Japanese folk need to come to Chicago because I think they like cold.
I actually got to Elementary a little early today, to my chagrin. I made it just in time for the big morning assembly, which was held inside for a change. It might has well have been outside, because I swear it was colder inside that gymnasium than it was outside. My breath was so cold, my breath looked I was smoking cigarettes. Ridiculous. The meeting was longer than usual, because the graduating 6th grader color team captains had to pass down their ranks to the 4th graders. This entailed a lot of excessive speaking and low-grade pomp and circumstance. As if everyone wasn't freezing to death, it seemed like they kept extending the duration of the meeting, finding more and more unnecessary b.s. to ammend to an already overdrawn assembly. They capped it off with the GAYEST school dance known in the Eastern hemisphere. Besides being ultra-campy, it lacked flavor, style and coordination. They need a choreographer. And don't look at me like I'm the token nigger dance-boy teaching Japanese folk how to dance and catch rhythm--to hell with that. The assistant principal came up to me and asked me to join in. I looked around and none of the other teachers are moving a muscle. I'm thinking to myself "Why the hell you want me to do this exceptionally GAY dance when not one other teacher is twitching a butt cheek? What I look like?" Then after a few seconds I start doing a few of the little moves, just trying to generate some heat. I dunno, but I'm feeling like this next school year might be last at this gig--I can already feel the seeds of disinterest settling in--and there's not much worse in life than being bored.
On another note, I don't have class until 3rd period, so until then I'm monitoring the online play-by-play of Super Bowl 39, even though it's Monday morning, Feb 7th. I haven't been a pro football fan in some time, but I'm quietly rooting for McNabb to get this ring. It's past due time to add another Black QB to the championship cadre. Doug is lonely. Go Eagles!
I actually got to Elementary a little early today, to my chagrin. I made it just in time for the big morning assembly, which was held inside for a change. It might has well have been outside, because I swear it was colder inside that gymnasium than it was outside. My breath was so cold, my breath looked I was smoking cigarettes. Ridiculous. The meeting was longer than usual, because the graduating 6th grader color team captains had to pass down their ranks to the 4th graders. This entailed a lot of excessive speaking and low-grade pomp and circumstance. As if everyone wasn't freezing to death, it seemed like they kept extending the duration of the meeting, finding more and more unnecessary b.s. to ammend to an already overdrawn assembly. They capped it off with the GAYEST school dance known in the Eastern hemisphere. Besides being ultra-campy, it lacked flavor, style and coordination. They need a choreographer. And don't look at me like I'm the token nigger dance-boy teaching Japanese folk how to dance and catch rhythm--to hell with that. The assistant principal came up to me and asked me to join in. I looked around and none of the other teachers are moving a muscle. I'm thinking to myself "Why the hell you want me to do this exceptionally GAY dance when not one other teacher is twitching a butt cheek? What I look like?" Then after a few seconds I start doing a few of the little moves, just trying to generate some heat. I dunno, but I'm feeling like this next school year might be last at this gig--I can already feel the seeds of disinterest settling in--and there's not much worse in life than being bored.
On another note, I don't have class until 3rd period, so until then I'm monitoring the online play-by-play of Super Bowl 39, even though it's Monday morning, Feb 7th. I haven't been a pro football fan in some time, but I'm quietly rooting for McNabb to get this ring. It's past due time to add another Black QB to the championship cadre. Doug is lonely. Go Eagles!
Feb 2, 2005
COLD AS HOKKAIDO
Yesterday we got snow. It was the first time I've seen snow in the almost 3 years I've been in this country. It was real snow, too, not that rooty-poot flurry BS-- at least 2 or 3 inches of it, enough to make me bust out my old leather Timbs. I was impressed. I was happy as well, because snowfall meant the trains were going to be running slow, which would make me late for work. The Nagoya area is totally unbuilt for snow, and public transportation and highways virtually shut down even when it rains hard. When I got to the station, the times weren't even being displayed on the marquee; they were just blank. It was like you catch one when you catch one. That was cool with me. I was more than happy to have an excuse to be late for work; I'm at JHS this week.
The trains were ridiculous. More folks were riding because the roads were jammed and too crappy to navigate, so the cars were packed. People were cramming and squishing each other onto those trains in a silly fashion. I had to grab the first seat I saw, because I was afraid somebody was gonna shove me too hard which would provoke me to elbow them in the face. Unfortunately, the trains weren't as late as I was hoping, so I only ended up about 20 minutes late for school. But I was early compared to most of the homeroom teachers. Some of them came straggling in over an hour late. In 2 years I've never seen a teacher arrive late to school, but yesterday I saw about 10. The principal jokingly cursed some of the younger teachers aloud who'd called in saying they might not be able to make it. He kept saying "Baka yaroo," which is about the equivalent of calling someone a "dumbass" in English, and won a few chuckles from the other teachers. He's a funny dude.
I'd love to call one of these teachers baka yaroo, some of the kids too for that matter. The needle on my Japanese B.S.-Tolerance Gauge has been dipping in the red lately. I stopped caring about trying to be friendly with any of the teachers at JHS. My empathy for them has been deactivated for quite some time now, and I could give a damn less about most of them, honestly. This school can pretty much kiss my Black, foreign ass. My feelings are lighter towards the students, but recently I've been wanting to go upside some of their heads, too. Maybe its because I've been under higher levels of stress recently, but it seems like I'm not getting the respect I deserve as a teacher and a adult from some of these junior high kids, particularly some of the girls. Most of the kids are pretty respectful, and if they get out of line, usually one of my "do I look like I'm playing with you?" stares mellows them out real quick, but some of those girls just speak in a very rude manner, in ways I know they wouldn't talk to their Japanese teachers. I've become familiar with the language well enough to know what proper and impolite speech sounds like, so I'm not having it.
Sometimes I wish I could turn back the Japan clock about 10-15 years, back when teachers were still punching kids in the mouth. Nowadays, Japan is so PC, not only can't teachers hit students, but students can get physical with teachers with no serious repercussions. I know this, because I've witnessed it. I once had to pull a skinny 14 year-old boy off the science teacher--and didn't even get an "Arigatoo" from the sissy afterwards. I should've let him slam him against the wall again.
Anyway, let me focus on less violent things. I only have one month left before the school year ends and I get transferred to a different school. I'll try not to choke anybody before graduation.
The trains were ridiculous. More folks were riding because the roads were jammed and too crappy to navigate, so the cars were packed. People were cramming and squishing each other onto those trains in a silly fashion. I had to grab the first seat I saw, because I was afraid somebody was gonna shove me too hard which would provoke me to elbow them in the face. Unfortunately, the trains weren't as late as I was hoping, so I only ended up about 20 minutes late for school. But I was early compared to most of the homeroom teachers. Some of them came straggling in over an hour late. In 2 years I've never seen a teacher arrive late to school, but yesterday I saw about 10. The principal jokingly cursed some of the younger teachers aloud who'd called in saying they might not be able to make it. He kept saying "Baka yaroo," which is about the equivalent of calling someone a "dumbass" in English, and won a few chuckles from the other teachers. He's a funny dude.
I'd love to call one of these teachers baka yaroo, some of the kids too for that matter. The needle on my Japanese B.S.-Tolerance Gauge has been dipping in the red lately. I stopped caring about trying to be friendly with any of the teachers at JHS. My empathy for them has been deactivated for quite some time now, and I could give a damn less about most of them, honestly. This school can pretty much kiss my Black, foreign ass. My feelings are lighter towards the students, but recently I've been wanting to go upside some of their heads, too. Maybe its because I've been under higher levels of stress recently, but it seems like I'm not getting the respect I deserve as a teacher and a adult from some of these junior high kids, particularly some of the girls. Most of the kids are pretty respectful, and if they get out of line, usually one of my "do I look like I'm playing with you?" stares mellows them out real quick, but some of those girls just speak in a very rude manner, in ways I know they wouldn't talk to their Japanese teachers. I've become familiar with the language well enough to know what proper and impolite speech sounds like, so I'm not having it.
Sometimes I wish I could turn back the Japan clock about 10-15 years, back when teachers were still punching kids in the mouth. Nowadays, Japan is so PC, not only can't teachers hit students, but students can get physical with teachers with no serious repercussions. I know this, because I've witnessed it. I once had to pull a skinny 14 year-old boy off the science teacher--and didn't even get an "Arigatoo" from the sissy afterwards. I should've let him slam him against the wall again.
Anyway, let me focus on less violent things. I only have one month left before the school year ends and I get transferred to a different school. I'll try not to choke anybody before graduation.
Jan 13, 2005
NOT...READY TO DIE...YET
I attended my first Japanese funeral last night, my first in adulthood. I never imagined I would experience attending a funeral while living abroad, but it happened. Not that I was looking forward to the experience.
Tragedy struck the famiy of one the 5th graders, a cool little girl named Sayaka, when her father accidently slipped and fell from a 30-foot tower at his job, a local steel plant in town. Especially considering Japan's high safety standards, the news came as a shock to all, enough to make the newspaper. According to the article, he wasn't wearing any safety harnesses, which I'm guessing is typical safety gear worn in that situation, however, he was wearing a hard helmet which obviously wasn't enough but it wasn't enough to prevent his death. He was 52.
I wasn't aware of any of this until the day of the funeral, which was the day following the accident. 10 minutes before I was due to go home, Kanie-Sensei approached me and asked was I going to the funeral that evening. I was like, "Funeral?! What funeral?!! Who died?!"
Learning the news put a downer on an otherwise fine day. Ten minutes before I walk out the door, I'm being asked to go to a funeral. I didn't particularly feel up to going to somebody's funeral on a moment's notice, though after a minute or two of contemplation, I decided I would attend to show support for one of my students. I wasn't exactly dressed to attend a funeral service (though some might disagree. har!) so after school, Kanie-Sensei ofered to take me by his whouse to pick up some clothes for us to wear. We got the gear and came back to the school. He had a spare black suit, actually, it was his old man's suit which he let me wear. The pants legs and arms on the jacket were flooding like crazy, but there was nothing we could do about it. Afterall, this wasn't a fashion show. After we changed, he gave me some ceremonial Buddhist prayer beads and a quick tutorial on what to do at the funeral (there were a couple of rites that visitors performed to show respect for the dead, one involving the manipulation of wooden ashes).
We hopped back in his van and headed to ceremony, which was right down the street from the school, but not before stopping at the nearest convenience store to grab a quick bite. Kanie-Sensei paid for my meal, which consisted of a microwaveable bento plate with a standard small portion of spaghetti, rice and chicken kara-age (Japanese-style fried chicken chunks), plus an onigiri (rice ball wrapped in seaweed) and a small bottle of hot tea. We scarfed that down in his car in the store parking lot, before making the 3-minute drive down to the appropriately-named "ceremony hall" (I'd always wondered exactly what kind of ceremonies were held in Japanese ceremony halls, since weddings are typically held in churches. Yes, a Buddhist nation which holds a great majority of its wedding ceremonies in Christian churches. Figure that one out).
I learned alot about Japanese funerals that evening. I was particularly impressed by the turnout. There were at least a couple hundred people who showed just within the 20-minutes we were there. The whole community: besides family members, classmates, parents, teachers, friends, co-workers were all in attendance, waiting in two long lines to enter the very Western-styled hall. Being the only foreigner there, many a head turned when I walked in the place dressed in black; a lot of the folks there from the school community knew who I was so it was all good. Amongst the crowd, I think I saw the high school punk whom I suspect vandalized my bike way back when. When I see him on the street, he usually tries to mean-mug me, to no avail, but on this night he avoided eye contact completely. I'm sure he was more surprised to see me there than I was him.
The atmosphere of the funeral wasn't particulary somber at all. The hall was mostly quiet and the inner hall where the family and some guests were seated was well-lit. When the prayer ceremony started Kanie motioned me to follow him into the inner hall. I trailed him to empty seats and just basically mimicked what he did. He pulled out the beads and clasped them around his hands then put them together in prayer. I did the same. At the front was a wooden altar with a framed picture of the deceased. Then a clergyman at the front opened a book and began reciting a prayer, which actually was more of a chant. Everyone else broke out in unison with the chanting but none of them had any literature to recite from--they were coming straight off the head; that was when I noticed that all the visitors weren't participating in the prayer. I realized then that "Oh, the folks praying must be the HARDCORE Buddhists," real practicing Buddhists, as opposed to most Japanese people who are not. (Just like folks in the U.S. claim they're Christian yet don't go to church or mass, it's kinda the same in Japan with Buddhism). What was amazing was how everyone including Kanie was reciting the mono-syllabic utterances flawlessly, straight from the head, for about 10 minutes straight. Meanwhile, I sat there with hands together wondering if they were repeating the same phrases or reciting one mega-long passage.
During the prayer, I was peeking up, watching the clergyman and reading the family names scripted on the big flower bouquets for the family, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed two people stand up and walk to the middle of the room and start bowing incessantly. I then spotted Sayaka in the front row on the other side of the room. She was sitting alone, sobbing uncontrollably holding a small towel over her eyes to soak up her tears. Sadder than her crying, was that not one person was consoling her or even had their arm on her shoulder. I mean this kid is only 10 and just lost her father for the rest of her life. I felt for her and just wanted to go over and give the kid a hug. Where were her folks? I realized then the people who'd gotten up were her mother and older brother. They had to stand together to bow and pay respects to EVERY ONE of the dozens of visitors. There was nothing they could do to console Sayaka at that point. I looked up and saw Sayaka's mom bowing, herself in tears. The brother was holding himself together and did his duty. He only looked about high school-aged. Kanie-Sensei and I got up and joined the line to pay respects. When we got to the front of the line, we performed some ritual which involved moving small ashes by hand from one box to another, three times. We then bowed to the family and left.
More surprising was the fact we received parting gifts on our way out the door. In our gift bags were: small packets of salt (used to wash the hands of bad spirits) and a box of household white sugar. That had me imagining what American funerals would change if they had to give gifts away to visitors.
I don't know if I fear death, however it's been on my mind more than I'd like as of late. I don't worry about my own death so much, rather I think I have some buried anxieties about my family and friends. Now I know 3 people who've lost parents within the span of the last two months--something I've been sympathetic to, yet can't relate to. What I have learned from witnessing these people, is that death and loss and painful but not unbearable. These people have continued carrying on their lives for the future. But then, of course they would. What the hell am I fretting about anyway?
I know it's kind of silly to sit and contemplate the ramifications of death and loss of loved ones while people are still walking around live and well, but it's something that I know I'll inevitably have to face, including my own. Everyone has to have their turn, as morbid and immature as that sounds. As the saying goes: "The only things certain in life are death and taxes," but I wonder, is there anyway I can be prepared for it or deal with it when it happens?
Tragedy struck the famiy of one the 5th graders, a cool little girl named Sayaka, when her father accidently slipped and fell from a 30-foot tower at his job, a local steel plant in town. Especially considering Japan's high safety standards, the news came as a shock to all, enough to make the newspaper. According to the article, he wasn't wearing any safety harnesses, which I'm guessing is typical safety gear worn in that situation, however, he was wearing a hard helmet which obviously wasn't enough but it wasn't enough to prevent his death. He was 52.
I wasn't aware of any of this until the day of the funeral, which was the day following the accident. 10 minutes before I was due to go home, Kanie-Sensei approached me and asked was I going to the funeral that evening. I was like, "Funeral?! What funeral?!! Who died?!"
Learning the news put a downer on an otherwise fine day. Ten minutes before I walk out the door, I'm being asked to go to a funeral. I didn't particularly feel up to going to somebody's funeral on a moment's notice, though after a minute or two of contemplation, I decided I would attend to show support for one of my students. I wasn't exactly dressed to attend a funeral service (though some might disagree. har!) so after school, Kanie-Sensei ofered to take me by his whouse to pick up some clothes for us to wear. We got the gear and came back to the school. He had a spare black suit, actually, it was his old man's suit which he let me wear. The pants legs and arms on the jacket were flooding like crazy, but there was nothing we could do about it. Afterall, this wasn't a fashion show. After we changed, he gave me some ceremonial Buddhist prayer beads and a quick tutorial on what to do at the funeral (there were a couple of rites that visitors performed to show respect for the dead, one involving the manipulation of wooden ashes).
We hopped back in his van and headed to ceremony, which was right down the street from the school, but not before stopping at the nearest convenience store to grab a quick bite. Kanie-Sensei paid for my meal, which consisted of a microwaveable bento plate with a standard small portion of spaghetti, rice and chicken kara-age (Japanese-style fried chicken chunks), plus an onigiri (rice ball wrapped in seaweed) and a small bottle of hot tea. We scarfed that down in his car in the store parking lot, before making the 3-minute drive down to the appropriately-named "ceremony hall" (I'd always wondered exactly what kind of ceremonies were held in Japanese ceremony halls, since weddings are typically held in churches. Yes, a Buddhist nation which holds a great majority of its wedding ceremonies in Christian churches. Figure that one out).
I learned alot about Japanese funerals that evening. I was particularly impressed by the turnout. There were at least a couple hundred people who showed just within the 20-minutes we were there. The whole community: besides family members, classmates, parents, teachers, friends, co-workers were all in attendance, waiting in two long lines to enter the very Western-styled hall. Being the only foreigner there, many a head turned when I walked in the place dressed in black; a lot of the folks there from the school community knew who I was so it was all good. Amongst the crowd, I think I saw the high school punk whom I suspect vandalized my bike way back when. When I see him on the street, he usually tries to mean-mug me, to no avail, but on this night he avoided eye contact completely. I'm sure he was more surprised to see me there than I was him.
The atmosphere of the funeral wasn't particulary somber at all. The hall was mostly quiet and the inner hall where the family and some guests were seated was well-lit. When the prayer ceremony started Kanie motioned me to follow him into the inner hall. I trailed him to empty seats and just basically mimicked what he did. He pulled out the beads and clasped them around his hands then put them together in prayer. I did the same. At the front was a wooden altar with a framed picture of the deceased. Then a clergyman at the front opened a book and began reciting a prayer, which actually was more of a chant. Everyone else broke out in unison with the chanting but none of them had any literature to recite from--they were coming straight off the head; that was when I noticed that all the visitors weren't participating in the prayer. I realized then that "Oh, the folks praying must be the HARDCORE Buddhists," real practicing Buddhists, as opposed to most Japanese people who are not. (Just like folks in the U.S. claim they're Christian yet don't go to church or mass, it's kinda the same in Japan with Buddhism). What was amazing was how everyone including Kanie was reciting the mono-syllabic utterances flawlessly, straight from the head, for about 10 minutes straight. Meanwhile, I sat there with hands together wondering if they were repeating the same phrases or reciting one mega-long passage.
During the prayer, I was peeking up, watching the clergyman and reading the family names scripted on the big flower bouquets for the family, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed two people stand up and walk to the middle of the room and start bowing incessantly. I then spotted Sayaka in the front row on the other side of the room. She was sitting alone, sobbing uncontrollably holding a small towel over her eyes to soak up her tears. Sadder than her crying, was that not one person was consoling her or even had their arm on her shoulder. I mean this kid is only 10 and just lost her father for the rest of her life. I felt for her and just wanted to go over and give the kid a hug. Where were her folks? I realized then the people who'd gotten up were her mother and older brother. They had to stand together to bow and pay respects to EVERY ONE of the dozens of visitors. There was nothing they could do to console Sayaka at that point. I looked up and saw Sayaka's mom bowing, herself in tears. The brother was holding himself together and did his duty. He only looked about high school-aged. Kanie-Sensei and I got up and joined the line to pay respects. When we got to the front of the line, we performed some ritual which involved moving small ashes by hand from one box to another, three times. We then bowed to the family and left.
More surprising was the fact we received parting gifts on our way out the door. In our gift bags were: small packets of salt (used to wash the hands of bad spirits) and a box of household white sugar. That had me imagining what American funerals would change if they had to give gifts away to visitors.
I don't know if I fear death, however it's been on my mind more than I'd like as of late. I don't worry about my own death so much, rather I think I have some buried anxieties about my family and friends. Now I know 3 people who've lost parents within the span of the last two months--something I've been sympathetic to, yet can't relate to. What I have learned from witnessing these people, is that death and loss and painful but not unbearable. These people have continued carrying on their lives for the future. But then, of course they would. What the hell am I fretting about anyway?
I know it's kind of silly to sit and contemplate the ramifications of death and loss of loved ones while people are still walking around live and well, but it's something that I know I'll inevitably have to face, including my own. Everyone has to have their turn, as morbid and immature as that sounds. As the saying goes: "The only things certain in life are death and taxes," but I wonder, is there anyway I can be prepared for it or deal with it when it happens?
Jan 7, 2005
IN THE YEAR OF THE ROOSTER...
Hi. Happy 2000-frickin-5! Wow. One more year and we'll be halfway through the doggone decade already. They weren't bee-essing when they said time flies as you get older, whoever "they" is.
Wrapping up my annual holiday home visit. I enjoyed my break markedly more than last year's, primarliy because it was about a WEEK longer. Yeah. I rested fairly well, ate fairly well, and caught up with fam and friends fairly well. This year, I gave up trying to track down every single human I know, and just get on with the ones who were accessible. I must say, there's a lot less anxiety in doing it that way.
Not news, my family is a trip. Good people, love them to death, but at the ripe age of 27, I'm really beginning to understand why my girlfriend accused me of speaking "too aggressively" to her to the point where she felt upset and like I was belittling and demeaning her--which was SO not true. I've never displayed true anger towards Sa, and was befuddled and annoyed she could accuse me of behaviour I clearly felt I wasn't displaying towards her. I tried to explain to her that "Baby, this is just the way I speak. I'm not actually mad at you." In my defense, I even chalked it up to our cultural differences. But upon winter re-immersion amongst kinfolk, after laying back and soaking in oh-so-many familial dialogues, it hit me: just about everyone in my family has the ability, rather, the inclination to chew each other out, even during the most loving of moments. Non-violent people we are, yet it seems everyone in our clan posesses the rhythmic skills of nagging, debating, contesting and chiding, to varying degrees. And the Smart Alec gene is woven tightly into our DNA, without a shadow of a doubt, and kicks in like clockwork to jocular and/or aggravating effect, situation dependent. I realize now, I also possess these oral behaviour patterns and they've become engrained in me as well. Though a quiet-type of individual, apparently I've acquired the craft of verbal jousting, merely by necessity of survival in my family caucus. And, at least to one Japanese young lady, a craft which seems domineering. Wow, what a revelation.
Hmm. On one hand, being a smart-ass can be quite useful, and debate skills are admirable, but alas, the last thing I want to be is a nag. Argh. I hope I haven't been a nag. Note to self: apologize to Sa just in case.
On a Mis Cleo-esque note, I have a few predictions to make for 2005. Coming into this year, my feelings are pretty neutral, anticipating nothing in particular--which leads me to believe that 2005 will be an interesting, and bigger-than-expected year. I get the sense that this will be a year of life-altering transition, growth, and development. In the same breath, I suspect '05 may also be a bittersweet year on personal, national, and even global levels. It'll be a year of surprises, some good, some bad. I think it'll be one of those years where one individual can experience personal tragedy and personal triumph. Whereas 2004 seemed like a "hold steady, maintain" type of year, I think 2005 will be a year marked by CHANGE. Don't ask me why--I'm not feigning clairvoyance--this is just my gut I'm working with here.
Unfortunately, the new year came in the wake of monumental global disaster with the tsunami deaths of South Asia. Even to learn of the many casualties in Thailand, on the same isle I vacated to just months ago, didn't really hit home for me. I felt so detached, I guess being so far away from it all, safe within the domestic confines of the good l' US of A. Gosh, how American of me. I'm just glad I went there in the summer and not for winter break. Amen.
Contrary to popular belief, all the effects of our lives are not subject to our individual wills alone. By the way, I don't exactly believe that everything that happens is pre-destined to happen exactly as it happens, if you know what I mean. However, I am a firm believer in Karma. What we put out in the world, we WILL get back, please believe it!
Happy '05!
Wrapping up my annual holiday home visit. I enjoyed my break markedly more than last year's, primarliy because it was about a WEEK longer. Yeah. I rested fairly well, ate fairly well, and caught up with fam and friends fairly well. This year, I gave up trying to track down every single human I know, and just get on with the ones who were accessible. I must say, there's a lot less anxiety in doing it that way.
Not news, my family is a trip. Good people, love them to death, but at the ripe age of 27, I'm really beginning to understand why my girlfriend accused me of speaking "too aggressively" to her to the point where she felt upset and like I was belittling and demeaning her--which was SO not true. I've never displayed true anger towards Sa, and was befuddled and annoyed she could accuse me of behaviour I clearly felt I wasn't displaying towards her. I tried to explain to her that "Baby, this is just the way I speak. I'm not actually mad at you." In my defense, I even chalked it up to our cultural differences. But upon winter re-immersion amongst kinfolk, after laying back and soaking in oh-so-many familial dialogues, it hit me: just about everyone in my family has the ability, rather, the inclination to chew each other out, even during the most loving of moments. Non-violent people we are, yet it seems everyone in our clan posesses the rhythmic skills of nagging, debating, contesting and chiding, to varying degrees. And the Smart Alec gene is woven tightly into our DNA, without a shadow of a doubt, and kicks in like clockwork to jocular and/or aggravating effect, situation dependent. I realize now, I also possess these oral behaviour patterns and they've become engrained in me as well. Though a quiet-type of individual, apparently I've acquired the craft of verbal jousting, merely by necessity of survival in my family caucus. And, at least to one Japanese young lady, a craft which seems domineering. Wow, what a revelation.
Hmm. On one hand, being a smart-ass can be quite useful, and debate skills are admirable, but alas, the last thing I want to be is a nag. Argh. I hope I haven't been a nag. Note to self: apologize to Sa just in case.
On a Mis Cleo-esque note, I have a few predictions to make for 2005. Coming into this year, my feelings are pretty neutral, anticipating nothing in particular--which leads me to believe that 2005 will be an interesting, and bigger-than-expected year. I get the sense that this will be a year of life-altering transition, growth, and development. In the same breath, I suspect '05 may also be a bittersweet year on personal, national, and even global levels. It'll be a year of surprises, some good, some bad. I think it'll be one of those years where one individual can experience personal tragedy and personal triumph. Whereas 2004 seemed like a "hold steady, maintain" type of year, I think 2005 will be a year marked by CHANGE. Don't ask me why--I'm not feigning clairvoyance--this is just my gut I'm working with here.
Unfortunately, the new year came in the wake of monumental global disaster with the tsunami deaths of South Asia. Even to learn of the many casualties in Thailand, on the same isle I vacated to just months ago, didn't really hit home for me. I felt so detached, I guess being so far away from it all, safe within the domestic confines of the good l' US of A. Gosh, how American of me. I'm just glad I went there in the summer and not for winter break. Amen.
Contrary to popular belief, all the effects of our lives are not subject to our individual wills alone. By the way, I don't exactly believe that everything that happens is pre-destined to happen exactly as it happens, if you know what I mean. However, I am a firm believer in Karma. What we put out in the world, we WILL get back, please believe it!
Happy '05!
Dec 16, 2004
MATA RAINEN (SEE YOU NEXT YEAR)
Today marks my last day of work for the year 2004. Feels good. I enjoyed an easy-breezy week at Elementary school and had a good time. Today I had a special class with one of the first grade classes. Class 1-2 held a little Christmas party, and when I arrived they adroened me with a handmade paper necklace and crown, and started calling me king. No, seriously. I got a stack full of handmade Xmas cards with thank-you messages and pictures attached. Without trying to be mushy about things, I'd have to say they were in fact adorable.
After that, we took a few group pictures and then we headed off to the freezing-cold school gym to play an earnest match of Dodgeball. Dodgeball is a serious sport in Japan, and I respect that. I was drafted to the white team, and was elected to play the tip-off to my slight height advantage over the 5-6 year-old field. Surprisingly, I did meet their expectations and managed to tip the super-malleable turqoise dodgeball to my teammates. The game ensued, in which I got popped and sent to the supporting sidelines twice, but was able to redeem my draft value by taking out countless opposing players, including Ms. Yoshida, the young homeroom teacher who played for the red team. In the vein of a Terrell Owens, and to the dismay of the whites at least, I tauntingly moonwalked across the mid-court line unscathed.
We won.
After that, we took a few group pictures and then we headed off to the freezing-cold school gym to play an earnest match of Dodgeball. Dodgeball is a serious sport in Japan, and I respect that. I was drafted to the white team, and was elected to play the tip-off to my slight height advantage over the 5-6 year-old field. Surprisingly, I did meet their expectations and managed to tip the super-malleable turqoise dodgeball to my teammates. The game ensued, in which I got popped and sent to the supporting sidelines twice, but was able to redeem my draft value by taking out countless opposing players, including Ms. Yoshida, the young homeroom teacher who played for the red team. In the vein of a Terrell Owens, and to the dismay of the whites at least, I tauntingly moonwalked across the mid-court line unscathed.
We won.
Dec 5, 2004
BAMBOO SHOOTS & LOTUS ROOTS
That's what I had for Thanksgiving. While you all were stuffing your big, fat heads with juicy fowl, bubbling mac'n'cheese, butter-laden homemade rolls and the coronary-clogging like, I had my basic school lunch fare packed with highly fibrous, near-flavorless domestic vegetables. I'm not crying though.
So maintaining recent tradition, I enjoyed yet another turkey-less T-day. This year officially brings me to a whopping ONE Thanksgiving spent with my hometown kinfolk in the last ten years. Wow. Turkey in my life has gone the way of the dodo. Fast.
Alas, it's December (already?). With 2 more weeks until the great 13-hour trans-Pacific voyage. Kinda looking forward to the crapload of shopping I need to do, plus all types of eating to catch up on. Just hope I can get it all done this time.
Speaking of eats, I freaked a new flavor of curry this weekend: pumpkin. Yeah. I got the idea from a conversation I had with one of my JHS girl students. Actually, I'd had the idea before, but never quite summoned the moxie to actually purchase one of the 1/3rd cut little green-skinned Japanese pumpkin chunks that have been on sale at the local grocery store since the fall produce debuted. Once my fantasy recipe was affirmed by a 14-year old, I promptly picked up a pumpkin chunk for a mere 100+ yen (about US $1). The price was a plus, considering how obscenely expensive produce is in this country. For example, the other day, bags of 6 red Fuji apples were "on sale" for 398 yen (just barely under US $4). On Sale. 6. ...Yeah, so getting about half a pumpkin (albeit a small one) for a buck was a STEAL, basically.
More importantly, what I did with that pumpkin was groundbreaking for my culinary repertoire. I found out from Sa that you don't even have to peel the skin off--just cook and eat the whole thing. And she was right; I diced the fruit up, and it it melted right into my curry, peel and all. The consistency was nice, much creamier than normal curry, purée-like even. A very subdued pumpkin flavor with all the usual goodies i put in but yummy nonetheless. Along with the standard sticky white rice, I'll be feeding on this stuff 'til winter break, easily.
So maintaining recent tradition, I enjoyed yet another turkey-less T-day. This year officially brings me to a whopping ONE Thanksgiving spent with my hometown kinfolk in the last ten years. Wow. Turkey in my life has gone the way of the dodo. Fast.
Alas, it's December (already?). With 2 more weeks until the great 13-hour trans-Pacific voyage. Kinda looking forward to the crapload of shopping I need to do, plus all types of eating to catch up on. Just hope I can get it all done this time.
Speaking of eats, I freaked a new flavor of curry this weekend: pumpkin. Yeah. I got the idea from a conversation I had with one of my JHS girl students. Actually, I'd had the idea before, but never quite summoned the moxie to actually purchase one of the 1/3rd cut little green-skinned Japanese pumpkin chunks that have been on sale at the local grocery store since the fall produce debuted. Once my fantasy recipe was affirmed by a 14-year old, I promptly picked up a pumpkin chunk for a mere 100+ yen (about US $1). The price was a plus, considering how obscenely expensive produce is in this country. For example, the other day, bags of 6 red Fuji apples were "on sale" for 398 yen (just barely under US $4). On Sale. 6. ...Yeah, so getting about half a pumpkin (albeit a small one) for a buck was a STEAL, basically.
More importantly, what I did with that pumpkin was groundbreaking for my culinary repertoire. I found out from Sa that you don't even have to peel the skin off--just cook and eat the whole thing. And she was right; I diced the fruit up, and it it melted right into my curry, peel and all. The consistency was nice, much creamier than normal curry, purée-like even. A very subdued pumpkin flavor with all the usual goodies i put in but yummy nonetheless. Along with the standard sticky white rice, I'll be feeding on this stuff 'til winter break, easily.
Nov 19, 2004
SCHOOLED-OUT
TGIF. Had a helluva week this week. Yesterday and today we had citywide school observations and presentations to thousands of visitors, mostly teachers from other prefectures and from within the local board of education. It was quite a monumental affair, as they'd been planning for this event all year long. I had a couple of observed English classes which went pretty well. I think there was more pressure on the kids than on myself as they had to do most of the work in class. They did a good job though, which made myself, my co-teachers and my school look good, at least as far as English education goes anyway.
The most grueling part of the two day event was the lecture and panel discussion series all teachers had to sit through. Between both days, I had to sit through a whopping 7 hours of lectures in unheated gymnasiums. Absolutely senseless. We were freezing our butts off, and most of the audience was asleep at least through half of the lectures. At least the first big presentation I sat through yesterday involved a panel discussion about English education, which was of some relevance and interest, and although it was entirely in Japanese. I stayed awake and tried to follow as much as I could. But today, i had to attend another school's big presentation about math education. It made no sense why I had to be there, and I didn't understand a damn thing they were talking about, so I made an effort to sleep as much of the boring, freezing 3.5 hours away as I could. Even Yamada-sensei, who was sitting next to me, nodded off a good 2 hours worth. Afterwards he asked me was he snoring.
Not to mention my elementary and junior high schools had a joint drinking party last night. Schoolteachers getting drunk on the Thursday night when they have to be up early for work the next day doesn't make much sense, but hey, it's a Japanese thing--you wouldn't understand. And I still don't. Anyway, I went only because it was a special occasion, and it was the first time my 2 schools had a joint party--which was roughly 50 people. I already knew going in I wasn't going to get the 5,000 yen's (about $50 US) worth of food or drink which I had to pay to attend the 2.5 hour affair, but I didn't want to disappoint the elementary folks, plus, I kinda wanted to show off to the JHS teachers how well I got along with the elementary teachers.
As I expected, the food fare was meager, small servings of sushi and assorted delicacies--oh, everybody was served ONE crab leg. But outside of the beer, the sumtotal of all the food didn't put a dent in my appetite. Speaking of beer, there were plenty red-faced teachers that night. The designated drivers drank tall glasses of bland iced oolong tea, while everyone else cut loose on the beer. People kept refilling my glass, but I don't think I even got a good buzz. The principal of my JHS came over to my table all rowdy, slapping me on the back trying to challenge me to beer shots. Dude is like 65 yo. telling me he can down 10 bottles on his own. He filled my glass, we did a "Kanpai," then we knocked one back together, but not before he dribbled beer on his expensive suit. He had me cracking up. And not breaking the tradition of Japanese punctuality, that party ended precisely at 9pm.
Alas, it's Friday and I can finally relax. One more month til vacation!
The most grueling part of the two day event was the lecture and panel discussion series all teachers had to sit through. Between both days, I had to sit through a whopping 7 hours of lectures in unheated gymnasiums. Absolutely senseless. We were freezing our butts off, and most of the audience was asleep at least through half of the lectures. At least the first big presentation I sat through yesterday involved a panel discussion about English education, which was of some relevance and interest, and although it was entirely in Japanese. I stayed awake and tried to follow as much as I could. But today, i had to attend another school's big presentation about math education. It made no sense why I had to be there, and I didn't understand a damn thing they were talking about, so I made an effort to sleep as much of the boring, freezing 3.5 hours away as I could. Even Yamada-sensei, who was sitting next to me, nodded off a good 2 hours worth. Afterwards he asked me was he snoring.
Not to mention my elementary and junior high schools had a joint drinking party last night. Schoolteachers getting drunk on the Thursday night when they have to be up early for work the next day doesn't make much sense, but hey, it's a Japanese thing--you wouldn't understand. And I still don't. Anyway, I went only because it was a special occasion, and it was the first time my 2 schools had a joint party--which was roughly 50 people. I already knew going in I wasn't going to get the 5,000 yen's (about $50 US) worth of food or drink which I had to pay to attend the 2.5 hour affair, but I didn't want to disappoint the elementary folks, plus, I kinda wanted to show off to the JHS teachers how well I got along with the elementary teachers.
As I expected, the food fare was meager, small servings of sushi and assorted delicacies--oh, everybody was served ONE crab leg. But outside of the beer, the sumtotal of all the food didn't put a dent in my appetite. Speaking of beer, there were plenty red-faced teachers that night. The designated drivers drank tall glasses of bland iced oolong tea, while everyone else cut loose on the beer. People kept refilling my glass, but I don't think I even got a good buzz. The principal of my JHS came over to my table all rowdy, slapping me on the back trying to challenge me to beer shots. Dude is like 65 yo. telling me he can down 10 bottles on his own. He filled my glass, we did a "Kanpai," then we knocked one back together, but not before he dribbled beer on his expensive suit. He had me cracking up. And not breaking the tradition of Japanese punctuality, that party ended precisely at 9pm.
Alas, it's Friday and I can finally relax. One more month til vacation!
Nov 11, 2004
U.S. CIVICS 101
I was at JHS half of this week, and I did a U.S./Japan culture trivia quiz with the 9th graders. I asked questions that pointed out some differences between the two that Japanese kids might not know like driving on opposite sides of the road, and other assorted pop trivia. At the end of the class, we talked about the U.S. presidential election and I asked their opinions.
I also asked who they would've voted for if they were able. Almost unanimously, the kids said Kerry was the better pick. Reasons cited were the desire for "world peace" and because "Bush loves war." In one class, I was surprised by the opionated response of one girl who said she supports Bush. I asked why, and she said something to the effect that "war in Iraq was good, because terrorists killed a Japanese person." She was referring to Shosei Koda, the young Japanese man who was held hostage and beheaded by Islamic militants in Iraq last month. She was like "It's good that Bush made war in Iraq...for the sake of revenge." I didn't bother trying to counter her flawed, misinformed young point of view due to time and language constraints. I told them that I'd voted in the election as an absentee, then someone asked me who I'd voted for. I told them Kerry. My young co-teacher, Sayako, said she was surprised and impressed that I'd voted in the U.S. election from overseas. I don't know why.
I proceeded to attempt to explain the U.S. electoral system. Sayako graciously supported my lecture with Japanese translation. We had a super-sized image of a U.S. electoral map I'd dug up off the net as a visual aid. The students seemed quite interested and listened attentively. Even the kids who usually chatterbox and zone out paid close attention to my lecture. I basically tried to make a point that the system was imbalanced and that a great deal of Americans felt they'd been cheated by the electoral college system. I didn't go into divulging the dirty antics of race-based voter intimidation, shady electronic voting machines and the like. For junior high schoolers, just trying to digest a complex voting system of foreign country was more than enough education for a day. Perhaps we'll save neo-fascism and corporate hegemony for another day.
And who said I was just an English teacher?
I also asked who they would've voted for if they were able. Almost unanimously, the kids said Kerry was the better pick. Reasons cited were the desire for "world peace" and because "Bush loves war." In one class, I was surprised by the opionated response of one girl who said she supports Bush. I asked why, and she said something to the effect that "war in Iraq was good, because terrorists killed a Japanese person." She was referring to Shosei Koda, the young Japanese man who was held hostage and beheaded by Islamic militants in Iraq last month. She was like "It's good that Bush made war in Iraq...for the sake of revenge." I didn't bother trying to counter her flawed, misinformed young point of view due to time and language constraints. I told them that I'd voted in the election as an absentee, then someone asked me who I'd voted for. I told them Kerry. My young co-teacher, Sayako, said she was surprised and impressed that I'd voted in the U.S. election from overseas. I don't know why.
I proceeded to attempt to explain the U.S. electoral system. Sayako graciously supported my lecture with Japanese translation. We had a super-sized image of a U.S. electoral map I'd dug up off the net as a visual aid. The students seemed quite interested and listened attentively. Even the kids who usually chatterbox and zone out paid close attention to my lecture. I basically tried to make a point that the system was imbalanced and that a great deal of Americans felt they'd been cheated by the electoral college system. I didn't go into divulging the dirty antics of race-based voter intimidation, shady electronic voting machines and the like. For junior high schoolers, just trying to digest a complex voting system of foreign country was more than enough education for a day. Perhaps we'll save neo-fascism and corporate hegemony for another day.
And who said I was just an English teacher?
Nov 3, 2004
"SHOCKED" AND "AWED"
"America, you are an ASS." --comic/commentator Marc Maron, Air America Radio
In a nutshell.
To the 55 million who voted against Bush, props. But thanks to the disproportionate inbred population of the Bible-thumping Cracker Belt, we have gift-wrapped our country and tossed it to the sharks. From here on out, any fundamental Islamic zealots who slam airliners and whatever other incendiary devices into our offices, schools and homes will be vindicated, and the rest of the world won’t give a gerbil’s turd. America’s name is not John Q. Public, it’s I. Hate Fear. The “I.” standing for Ignorance.
The pieces are set, and the Empire has been assembled. America, kiss your sweet civil freedoms goodbye, cuz there’s no turning back now. Supreme Court balance—Peace out. Social Security—Kick rocks. A fair economy where most Americans don’t have to “scratch and survive” like Florida and JJ Evans—as we say over this way, Sayonara.
And all this time I’d been giving my fellow countrymen the benefit of the doubt, defending them even when criticized by my international counterparts.
Non-American friend: “What the $&%@ is wrong with Americans? Americans are some #%$ed up, crazy #%#%#s!”
Me: “Au contraire, mon frere/ma soeur. All Americans aren’t so bad. Hey, we DID NOT elect the Bushies in 2000—they stole the election. STOLE it. Besides, most of us are decent, hard-working, peace-loving, common sense-having individuals just like you and yours. C’mon, Bush is an idiot... Americans don’t think like him!”
What can I say now? There’s no defense. Now, I don’t doubt for a second that the Red party, by myriad means, lied, cheated, and stole their way back into Washington, but the bottom line is that, any way you flip it, America is a divided state, and the country is still about as split apart as it was during the Civil War. Social progress? Ha! We might be headed back towards the 60’s, except next time it won’t just be Black folk getting hosed down, clubbed, bitten and shot in the streets. It’ll be the entire “broke” class, including whites.
I’ve been hearing talk about people fleeing the States, becoming expats—I guess people like me would be the objects of envy in that respect. But I’m not ready to give up my citizenship just yet.
Sigh. If this is Star Wars, then Bush might be Darth Sidius, Cheney might be Vader. I might be Lando Calrissian, and Japan might be my Cloud City.
Meanwhile, I’ll be chilling…waiting for Luke…and the Rebel Alliance to make their move.
In a nutshell.
To the 55 million who voted against Bush, props. But thanks to the disproportionate inbred population of the Bible-thumping Cracker Belt, we have gift-wrapped our country and tossed it to the sharks. From here on out, any fundamental Islamic zealots who slam airliners and whatever other incendiary devices into our offices, schools and homes will be vindicated, and the rest of the world won’t give a gerbil’s turd. America’s name is not John Q. Public, it’s I. Hate Fear. The “I.” standing for Ignorance.
The pieces are set, and the Empire has been assembled. America, kiss your sweet civil freedoms goodbye, cuz there’s no turning back now. Supreme Court balance—Peace out. Social Security—Kick rocks. A fair economy where most Americans don’t have to “scratch and survive” like Florida and JJ Evans—as we say over this way, Sayonara.
And all this time I’d been giving my fellow countrymen the benefit of the doubt, defending them even when criticized by my international counterparts.
Non-American friend: “What the $&%@ is wrong with Americans? Americans are some #%$ed up, crazy #%#%#s!”
Me: “Au contraire, mon frere/ma soeur. All Americans aren’t so bad. Hey, we DID NOT elect the Bushies in 2000—they stole the election. STOLE it. Besides, most of us are decent, hard-working, peace-loving, common sense-having individuals just like you and yours. C’mon, Bush is an idiot... Americans don’t think like him!”
What can I say now? There’s no defense. Now, I don’t doubt for a second that the Red party, by myriad means, lied, cheated, and stole their way back into Washington, but the bottom line is that, any way you flip it, America is a divided state, and the country is still about as split apart as it was during the Civil War. Social progress? Ha! We might be headed back towards the 60’s, except next time it won’t just be Black folk getting hosed down, clubbed, bitten and shot in the streets. It’ll be the entire “broke” class, including whites.
I’ve been hearing talk about people fleeing the States, becoming expats—I guess people like me would be the objects of envy in that respect. But I’m not ready to give up my citizenship just yet.
Sigh. If this is Star Wars, then Bush might be Darth Sidius, Cheney might be Vader. I might be Lando Calrissian, and Japan might be my Cloud City.
Meanwhile, I’ll be chilling…waiting for Luke…and the Rebel Alliance to make their move.
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