Life in the J-Spot

Grand Finale Trip: Tokyo, Fuji Rock, Mt. Fuji, Kamakura

2008-08-19T16:42:00.051+09:00

Well, even though I've already said my goodbye, I want to round off the blog with a couple closing posts. First, I had a good trip at the end of July/beginning of August that I want to write about. Sorry about the bad formatting, but my computer dies a little bit every time I try to put pictures up here, so I can't go back and fix it because it would actually take 3 hours. On the other hand, if you want to see more pictures, please check out my flickr site, with sets conveniently named for each part of the trip (Fuji Rock, Tokyo, Climbing Mt Fuji, Kamakura).

Fuji Rock Festival
After we sent a rather ill-timed (should've come months earlier) and somewhat unprofessional email to the Sapporo Board of Education indicating our resignation, we quickly hopped on a plane down to Tokyo, running out of communication range in case our boss was mad at us!

(Wayne, looking good as always.) We stayed at a love hotel in Tokyo (best option for when you're in town, just go to Love Hotel Hill in Shibuya), then hopped on the Shinkansen out to the ski town of Naeba. We set up our tent on the resort's golf course, soon to be joined by some 15000 other campers. We had an awesome amalgamation of some 15 or 20 kiwis, brits, canadians, and one Japanese guy that made for a good crew and a good home base over the weekend (you can see some of us huddling under the tarp for shade in the middle of the picture).

For the next three days we would enjoy the sights and sounds of the 2008 Fuji Rock Festival (I was only naked for a very small part of it). The weekend consisted of: many half-hour walks from the tent to the performance grounds, which didn't get us too down, because you could hear the music the whole time; probably a couple hundred kilometres of walking back and forth between the 7 different stages; buying food and drinks pretty much every hour between sets, from one of a hundred different food stalls; cool off periods as well as morning showers / curative dips in conveniently close, mountain fresh, ice-cold creeks (pictured); endless hours of jumping, dancing, laughing and partying to a variety of awesome music; not very much sleep, but lots of taking pictures of other sleeping spectactors who didn't have a camp site.

I can't pick a favourite performance, because every time I try another memory pops into my head. We got rocked by Galactic, Primal Scream, Underworld, Michael Franti, and (surprisingly fun) the Bootsy Collins Tribute band featuring a James Brown impersonator who wouldn't let us stop dancing for three hours. Performers I hadn't heard before that also kicked butt were Hocus Pocus (French hip hop), Seasick Steve (blues/funny drunk southern USA man talking on stage), Big Willie's Burlesque, and an ongoing stream of DJ's. The dorkiest performance was probably the Presidents of the USA; the most monotonous was probably Kate Nash (not bad, just... monotonous - the girls were happy though); the most intense performance was probably Gogol Bordello. This is just the beginning of the list. You can see the whole lineup on the festival's website. The event wrapped up for us on Sunday evening with the much-loved Lee Scratch Perry, a packed performance by The Music (didn't really care much for them, though the crowd was happy and uppity), and an awesome closing set by Asian Dub Foundation, whom the crowd refused to let leave.

Other highlights include: sufficient portapotties (even though most of them were the terrible Japanese-style squat toilets, which quickly got filthy), with sinks and disinfectant soap to wash your hands (which you can't find in many public toilets in Japan); designated smoking areas so we could party without stinking, and ostracize those losers as much as possible (even though people smoke everywhere else in Japan); well-staffed gates so there was never a lineup to come and go; enough food stalls and trinket shops to keep life interesting, without feeling like stuff was being pressed on you at every moment; awesome ambience and a feel-good place through and through (look at those candles!); lastly though not exhaustively, plenty of buses to help us get away from the mess as fast as possible on Monday morning.

Recovering in Tokyo
We took it easy the next couple days in Tokyo. We strolled around Ginza for a day or two, circumnavigating the Emprorer's Palace and Gardens without seeing an entrance to anything interesting, checking out the Sony Building (see Alice in photo playing a Dragon Ball game), enjoying the variety of quality food that's simply not available in Sapporo, and being awed by the incredible amounts of wealth in this part of the city. At the end of the business day, the streets are flooded with chauffeured well-to-dos getting out of their black sedans and limos, dressed to the nines to go shop hopping. The streets here are not cracked and ugly (like everywhere else in Japan), your headspace is not filled with tacky neon signs, and pachinko parlours are not the only well-kept buildings. I'm sad to say that one of the few nice urban areas in Japan is this centre of conspicous wealth and consumerism.

Climbing Mt. Fuji
After Alice and Wayne went back to Sapporo, I raced to catch up with a couple guys we met the day before: they were going to motivate me to climb Mt. Fuji. I had had to buy some more gear in Tokyo, as I was heinously underprepared, but eventually I found the two hour bus (plus a transfer, then another hour bus) that took me to the 5th Station. If you're crazy, like a chunk of our Fuji Rock crew who climbed it the week before, you can spend two 8 hours day hiking up and down the whole terrible 3776m of Fuji. If you're smart (lazy), you can just bus to the 5th station which means you only have to hike something like 1400m.

I started hiking around 10pm. I was more or less alone for this part of the hike, so I just enjoyed the quiet, the feel of the trail beneath me (didn't bother with the headlamp), and the ridiculous number of stars over head. I caught up with my hiking buddies after an hour or two of hiking. We had some grub and snoozed for an hour or so at the hut at the 7th station (most expensive hour of sleep I've ever had).

When we got on the trail again, things weren't so pretty. It was somehow darker and much much colder - the sky was completely covered in heavy clouds. Plus, it was pouring rain. Oh, and our mate didn't have a light after the one I leant him died, and the mist from the rain made our headlamps glaring and next to useless on the dark and slippery shale anyway, and I had way too much weight in my bag, and I didn't have nearly enough gear for the weather. In this picture, Jon isn't looking so good. He hadn't hiked (or done any exercise) "in years" before this. Also, the oxygen was getting thinner at this point. About 5 feet outside the frame, somebody is leaning over the railing vomitting.

Well, things got worse before they got better. First, they got wetter and wetter. Then, forward momentum stopped. We had reached the dreaded Line Up. Yup, there you are on a trail on some mountain somewhere, and suddenly you are in a line up of hundreds of people. The reason, of course, is that Fuji is a rite of passage for Japanese people to be accomplished once in every lifetime, and it was the middle of peak season to boot. And many people hike it over night to catch the sunrise in the morning (I couldn't resist, even though I knew it would be packed.) Add to that the fact that Japanese people often travel in tour groups of about 50, wherein they are treated like children (meaning frequent stops and roll-calls and pats on the back), and the congestion was infinitely worse than it had to be.

But there was a shining light pulling us forward and giving us hope. It was about 330am when we reached the top and saw the vending machines. Luckily we were above the clouds, so the rain stopped and the sky was beautiful. However, it was too early. We still had an hour till sunrise, in wet clothes with the temperature hovering just above freezing (but with harsh wind that made it feel 5 below). Fortunately, there's also a restaurant on top of the summit (only in Japan!) that provided shelter and some warm soup, and the warmth of several hundred bodies crammed in a small space. I was glad for the extra weight in my bag now, because I put on every peice of clothing, wrapped myself in Alice's down sleeping bag (a little damp, still functional), and shivered as much as I could. For about half an hour I cursed myself for being underprepared, and feared that I had done something stupid as the cold refused to leave my limbs.

Nonetheless, as soon as hints of the sun's light started poking over the clouds, everybod flooded out of the hut to catch the action. Of course, it would take maybe an hour for the whole sun to rise, so we were being a little over earnest. I moved away from the crowd and found some place on a hill with room to breathe. With the sleeping bag wrapped around me, I continued to shiver as much as possible, periodically poking my camera out of my coccoon to take about a hundred more photos than necessary of the sun coming up. Maybe it was the cold affecting my brain, or the fact that I hadn't really slept, or I was deliriously hopeful that the minutest amount of sun would warm me up, but the sunrise was a new beauty each second fromt the first.

Eventually I warmed up enough to smile again and stop fearing for my fingers. At this point I really felt the energy of all the (hundreds) of people on the summit. As dorky as it may sound, some people had tears in their eyes, some were shouting with joy, some were laughing, and some simply sat quietly looking content. I think I did each in turn.

The hike down was long. The wide trail snaked back and forth to reduce the slope, but the shale and gravel still made it slippery and so each step required constant concentration. It didn't matter though. It was quiet and peaceful, and for hours you get to look to the hills on the horizon, float above the clouds, and kinda forget that anything else in the world exists.

Kamakura
I'll try to be more succint about the last part of the trip, because I know I've gone on long enough already. I promised my fellow teacher/friend Hideki (who made my life so much easier at the last school I worked at) that I would meet him in Kamakura, so I had to hike down Fuji quick, hop back on the buses back to Tokyo, then the train in Tokyo, then the train out of Tokyo, then the little monorail/shuttle/train thingy that runs through Kamakura to meet up with him after a long and stinky 4 or 5 hour trip. (With every article on me or in my bag wet and getting mildewy by the second, me stinking like sweat and dirt and lack of sleep, and looking worse than I smelled, I wouldn't get to shower till nearly a full day later.)

Kamakura was better than I expected. I went to see the big Buddha statue and a couple of the hundred temples, but I didn't even know that it was also a beach town. So, over two and half days I walked around the town with Hideki and his lovely wife, did the touristy temple thing that I've been longing to do (though an hour here and there suffices), sampled (more) tasty cuisine that's been lacking, nearly passed out from exhuastion every hour (on top of the hike being killer, in kamakura it was over 30 degrees with what felt like 100% humidity and sun sun sun), chatted with an awesome british fellow named Ken who offered me a bed in his family's house if I couldn't find a hotel, and other than that just hung out on the beach, reading, swimming, relaxing, and soaking the feeling in.

The feeling, of course, was relief and freedom. This trip was supposed to be a mid-summer recharge, a chance to get some rest and have some fun, and hopefully get some enthusiasm to help me surive another year in Japan. Once we decided to quit though, it took on a different nature. Alice and I ran into so many people at Fuji Rock who were thrilled to hear we are leaving, that there's no way we could feel bad about it or wonder if it was the wrong choice (if we would have wondered that anyway). Fuji Rock and the entire trip became a celebration, a finale, with no thoughts of work back in Sapporo to dampen the mood, and the elated feeling that after the trip, all we had was some packing, and then new places and open doors.

I shouldn't speak for Alice I guess. Suffice it to say, she had a good time too, and I (as usual) just added in all this over-analysing and signifying. I got back in time to receive a birthday parcel from home (Thanks mom, dad, ashleah!), and was greeted with a lovely and disgusting birthday cake prepared by Alice (had to eat it all before we started a cleanse two days later), who welcomed me home in characteristic fashion.

It was an awesome trip. And it was good to be home - because we had to pack up and move all our stuff into a friend's apartment within two days!!!!!

I'll probably write one or two more posts, reflecting or something deep like that. Please stay tuned.

Byebye, as they say in Japan

2008-08-11T18:36:00.005+09:00

[Many young people in Japan use practically no English in their day to day lives, but pretty much everybody says 'Byebye,' which with their tone and gestures kinda contributes to them seeming a bit infantile.]

Well, there's really not much left to say, is there. I guess, thanks for being devoted readers (mom, dad, thousands of imaginary fans). I wouldn't have been able to do keep up this frantic pace (once a month, or whenever) or intensity of writing (no theme or driving aim, no plot, no editing, sometimes little evidence of prior thought) without you all to motivate me.

Goodbye.

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Oh, by the way, I'm going to have to end this blog soon, because I've decided not to stay another year in Japan!!! I could give all the thoughtful and heavy, emotion-laden reasons behind that decision but for now lets just skip to the bottom line. I believe leaving Japan (as opposed to staying in the same job, place, environment) will give me a more interesting life over the next year. If I stayed, I would learn more Japanese and earn more money. However, I don't have a specific use for Japanese planned later in life, and money comes and goes like the seasons, which really depend on where you are in the world, and therefore is totally contextual and thus meaningless on its own. Oh, and I think I said before that a girl might be the wrong reason to decide to recontract another year, so I figure that same girl is probably a good reason to break that contract off and split. With irrefutable logic in mind, it's time to make like a tree and leave (keeping with the season metaphor...).

Wow, I appear to have lost all ability to write.

I quit.

One more time, Goodbye.

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WAIT!!!! Please read any other blogposts after this one. I promise to put in some pretty pictures!

sometimes ups outnumber the downs

2008-07-03T10:27:00.007+09:00

Personal update, the bad news first:

My bike was stolen. Trusting fool that I am, I thought it would be ok to leave my bike unlocked for 5 minutes while I ran into a store. I was on my way to dinner with one of the teachers I work with, and my contribution was to be some cake (along with the wine in my backpack). I guess I took too long deliberating chocolate mousse versus strawberry cheese-, because when I came back out, my beautilful 5th hand, 3-gear, mamacheri was gone. Idiot that I am, I had also left my backpack outside. So, along with the wine and some other random stuff, and the backpack that I`ve had for ages, I lost a bright and shiny and new digital camera, used just once. (If you remember, before I left Vancouver I debated buying a dSLR, or a compact digicam, or both. Well, since I only got to use the compact once, I think fate only wants me to have the SLR.) I can just imagine the fun the thief is having with it. Probably dropping it heaps in drunk parties with his crack-addict friends, knocking it against the bricks as he scurries away after scoping out places to hit up - none of this damaging the camera because of its awesome shockproof shell; probably taking nasty pictures in the shower with his ugly girlfriend, and, when he makes it to the beach once this summer, stupid pictures of himself making the peace sign underwater - which he can do because of the camera`s awesome waterproofing. Well, some greedy amoral asshole or underprivelaged and pitiable youth is going to have a delightfully picturesque summer.

Let this be a lesson to you (meaning me). Even in CrimeFree Japan, only trust people when you can see them, and always lock your damn bike up, idiot. Alternatively, have a crappy bike that isn`t worth stealing, and don`t own expensive possessions that will hurt your wallet if stolen.

The good news. Things are pretty good otherwise. I have enough positive thoughts and memories to swing the balance in the right direction.

Let`s see, a few weeks ago I hiked Mt. Yotei with some friends, staying overnight in a mountain hut. At about 1900 metres, Yotei is one of the tallest mountains in Hokkaido. It`s also called Ezo-Fuji because of the similar conical shape to the namesake volcano in the south. On the first day, we hiked up through the mist to emerge on top of clouds as far as the eye could see (always a cool feeling). The next morning broke clear, and we took in a 360 view of the surrounding farmland and lush, green, rolling hills receding off into the distance. One of our crew wrote a detailed and thoughtful post, with pictures, about the hike. So, I just point you in that direction if you`re curious. http://happyinhokkaido.typepad.com/happy/2008/06/yosh-mt-yotei.html

What else? Well, after my bike was stolen, I continued on to the dinner anyway. The dinner was a special request from my coworkers mother in law, who studies English and wanted to practice. Plus, my coworker (Hey Mori Sensei!) is an awesome guy, really good to me at work, with whom I was glad to share a relaxed evening away from the hullabuloo. The four of us (add his lovely wife) finally did relax after I forcefully shifted focus away from my recent idiocy (losing the bike). I feel like this small family was representative of a good possible future for Japan. All three were, on top of being very kind people, open-minded and interested in broader perspectives of the world. They all see value in speaking multiple languages, and communicating with people from other places, and talking about interesting issues rather than just exchanging pleasantries. We didn`t spend the whole time talking about how old I was, or how tall I was, or how I would rank the top ten most common Japanese foods. And they didn`t compliment my use of chopsticks - though you might only understand the significance of this after you`ve lived here. Best of all there was actually some nice cheese and fruit (as well as the scrumptious Japanese foods), which I have yet to see at any other dinner here.

Anyway, it was a nice time, and it made me realise for the first time that I finally have a relationship (can you use the word friendship with coworkers?) with a Japanese person that time has helped develop, where we understand each other better than we did at the start, and I believe we actually engage with each other as people, rather than as the functions we serve for each other.

After the dinner, at 1030, I got on a train heading north out of the city. At Toubetsu, in Ishikari (small city North of Sapporo), I took a ridiculously expensive taxi ride out to an old abandoned junior highschool in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere on the edge of this town. There were candles glowing everywhere. In the gym at this most random of locations, an all day alternative (ie not shit JPOP that is the ONLY option pretty much everywhere here) music fest was quietly kicking ass. Alice (who is responsible for anything halfway youthful and exciting in my life) and co had already enjoyed the music all day, which ranged from improv spoken word jazz to people playing little bamboo mouth harps (or so I was informed). In the evening, the Ainu groups took over. I got there in time to see Oki (see earlier post) and his lovely accompanying ladies, doing their waves of rythmic, hypnotic traditional singing. I like it more every time I hear it. Regardless of whether or not there were intoxicants involved, the scene was awesome. Similar to the concert in Obihiro, there were people of all ages, little kids and little dogs scurrying underfoot. The only lighting was candlelight. There was a woman making a line/dot piece of art on the wall over the course of the night. As soon as I jumped out of the taxi at the beginning and asked where Oki was, a couple people jumped on me in conversation. You can feel the energy of this kind of place as soon you as show up, and it`s so indescribably different from anything you can find here in the city. Relaxed but charged, human, alive. The music went till 5 in the morning. Well, actually, I went until 5 in the morning (the music kept going), at which time I took in the last of the sunrise quietly, and then retreated to our tent on the school field.

Not sure if this link into Facebook will work, but my friend Emma Rowbotham has some photos of the night in her `trivia times - Ainu I knew you` photo album. They capture but a fraction of the magic, some candles, a delightful child, the drawing on the wall (and there`s nothing indecent, so dont worry).

My hiking partner from above, Michael Snyder, has two relevant posts. One is copied news article talking about a recent government panel formed to discuss ongoing discrimination against the Ainu.

In the other he talks about an Ainu Solstice festival he took in one night in Asahikawa (you just have to scroll down a pinch).

OK. Back to the the good stuff. I`ve had a good week at work.
On Monday, I spent the day at the school I will be moving to in August. It is a highschool. It is a very big, flash, advanced highschool with students who can understand quite a lot of english. I followed around the JET who I will replace, met the teachers, and saw a few classes. Just about everything about the situation there looks different from the situation I`ve found so far in Junior Highschools: the ALTS are used far more effectively, far far more extensively, and the focus on actually communicating in English is very high. I`ve only got three weeks left at my current school, which I will be sad to leave in a lot of ways. Nonetheless, I`m pretty excited to test out the new scene of highschool.

Then Tuesday was Canada day. After a rare delicious and filling breakfast, courtesy the lovely Canadian Emma and the lovely Alice Alice, I went to school with lots of energy, a good out look, a canadian flag worn as a toga, and lots of Canadian stickers to hand out (thanks for buying those and sending them to me mom). I surprised a lot of kids out of their apathy with my enthusiasm all day, plus it just so happens we were actually doing a fun class activity that day, so, all in all I just felt great about being at work, and unequivocally enjoyed my job. Forgive the cheese factor, but I think I will always remember the smiles on those kids faces, and the energy with which they shouted `Happy Birthday Canada!` Shiny stickers and energetic bribery: have to employ more of that.

Today is a bit of a quieter day, so I have time to write this here blog. Yet, I`m still riding the energy from the past couple days, and I feel pretty content with my work situation at the moment. I feel like I have continued to relax more, and figure out ways to connect with these kids (meaning illicit a few more precious words here and there). Partly I think they are just becoming more comfortable with me, after three months together. So I do have mixed feelings about leaving, as I look forward to change and new things, but also feel I`ve started to find my place here.

I`ve got much to look forward to in the near future as well. We are taking off a couple days before the end of term to head down to Fuji Rock Festival (which I `ve mentioned before). After that, I`ve got a week to explore the area. I think I`m going to do a day or two in Tokyo, then hop down to Kamakura and see some old temples and a big budha and take pictures that a million other people have taken before me, followed by a wee hike up that well-known mountain, you know the one, that a million other people will probably be hiking at the same time as me. Yup, I`m meeting up with a friend (Lexis Lum) to hike Fuji on August 2nd, then returning home for some down time before starting a hopefully exciting and fulfilling year as a highscool ALT.

Bushido: The Way of the OverWorker

2008-06-12T09:09:00.006+09:00

I am constantly struggling with the mentality toward work here. Most teachers spend a minimal amount of time AWAY from school, lucky to get their weekends free - and that`s only if they don`t have a club team to run. I think the service industry is the only sector that has fairly rigid set hours, and allows its workers to leave promptly when their shifts are finished. Anything more involved than a job at Tully`s, you`re putting in 12 hours (not counting travel) and catching the 9pm train home. Why? Why!? WHY!!!

According to `The Japanese Mind,` this workoholism relates to the tradition of Bushido, the way of the warrior, which is a blending of previous Zen Buddhist, Taoist, and Confucian beliefs (all from China) rehashed to become the samurai`s ethic during the Edo Period (bushi is another word for the samurai, the warrior class). Most relevantly, this ethic involved exhaustive repetition and training to acheive perfect forms (which I`ll return to in a later post), complete devotion to your lord, and above all exertion. What`s most interesting, as the book points out, is that exertion itself is not sufficient. The goal was not merely sufficient exertion to acheive a certain goal, as might seem most reasonable. The goal was to be seen over-exerting yourself. Combined with honour gained by self-sacrifice in the name of your leader, this meant that the ultimate goal of the ethic was in fact death. Essentially, you work yourself so hard, constantly, that you`re bound to die in a scuffle or battle eventually. There is the paradoxical focus on acheiving honour (for your self) through self-effacement, working your self to death for another`s sake.

This might explain a lot of things about modern Japan. Not that it`s so simple as smacking a `bushido` label on modern phenomenon, or that every Japanese is daily looking for ways to die through their labour. However, the mentality of self-sacrifice and over-exertion surfaced in the WWII soldiers who killed their own offspring to free themselves to go to war, perhaps even as a kamikaze pilot. This mentality surfaces in the executives whose lives are inseperable from the companies they run, and who kill themselves if the company falters or a scandal is discovered. `karoushi` is the Japanese word for death by overwork.

The conundrum is that in a way, the excesses and the tragedy are admired, or at least expected. If you ask teachers why they don`t take a holiday, usually they make up excuses. Apparently taking leave or working only regular hours can hurt your career`s progress. Our Manager at the Board of Education has repeatedly but without justification emphasized that, though we are allotted 20 days paid holiday, `true` Japanese workers don`t take holidays. In fact, only when they are sick do they use their paid holidays (instead of using their stack of sick days). If you suggest that holidays might have a positive impact on people`s lives, you`re likely to hear the common refrain that there isn`t time, work is too busy.

So, what are people here doing that people elsewhere aren`t? If you look at per capita output, (I`m gonna go ahead and not back this up with a source, please correct me if you have one) Japan no longer outproduces most other wealthy nations. If you ask people on the ground, like JETs, you might discover that people waste a lot of time at work. Teachers unnecessarily rehash materials just to create something to do. Then there`s the endless meetings and creating published reports for the meetings (which wastes an unimaginable amount of paper), which usually cover information that people already know. Other than that, teachers kill time by clipping their nails, perusing newspapers, and occasionally watching some TV or a movie in the evening. I`m not saying teachers don`t work hard; they do! Only, they have to somehow come up with stuff to do on top of the sufficient amount of work they do.

Of course, the biggest extension of work hours has got to be the clubs. Club attendence is pretty close to mandatory, mostly enforced by social pressure. What boggles me though, is that you don`t get to grow out of this pressure when you grow up. Teachers are expected to join clubs too, which is why you get overlapping (many coaches to a team), and worse, teachers having to sponsor clubs for which they have no experience, expertise, or even liking. Because the ethic extends to the students, these clubs run for insane hours - four hours after school everyday, and possibly both days on the weekends (usually just one), with games and tournaments showing no regard for public holidays. And, watching these clubs, you see that a lot of time wasting goes on there too. So, a hard-working teacher who does her best to educate the students, and stay on top of her work-load, has to stay at school long past the contracted hours, coming in on most weekends, even if this means creating busywork, or joining a club in which she has no interest whatsoever.

I point out the inefficiencies because they are what frustrate me most about the overworking. People at work (I`m gonna go ahead and assume this is true in all sectors), teachers at school, students in club: everybody could acheive the same amount of work, output or improvement (in clubs) with the same or possibly less effort spent more efficiently in less time.
I somewhat grasp the often-cited `group mentality`, which could potentially mean nobody wants to leave their institutional group and go off to do something else. But the practice of overworking contrasts with so many people`s complaints (for example, by the teacher`s union), and ignores the high rates of depression, suicide, and alcoholism among what should be otherwise well-off workers. I keep struggling to understand...

...but, a slight turn of phrase makes it make sense. The goal is to be seen not only exerting, but over-exerting. The goal is not even to acheive or to complete, but to exert. And so, if you stop to take a holiday, or even go home at your designated hours, or when you`ve finished a task, you`re not really pushing yourself, are you?

This still isn`t enough for me though. Who are they trying to impress? It`s not much of a sacrifice for the group if the group as a whole is less efficient and produces less as a result. Why does the system pressure people to expend all their time and energy at work, when nobody really wants to do this? When the government legislated a 6- and then 5-day school and work week (presumably for the sake of people`s well-being), enrollment in cram schools shot way up, and school clubs expanded to fill the slack time; time spent at work did not drastically decrease. But if the highest official authority, the government, is asking people to lead more balanced lives, who keeps insisting on the unnecessary standard of over-exertion?

People do it to themselves, for nobody, the worst possible option.

Oki Dub Ainu Band in Obihiro

2008-05-21T09:44:00.007+09:00

As promised, in order to alternate between rambling ruminations and personal updates, this post will be one of the later. If the tone differs from my usual, that may be because I`m writing at work. I`ve gotten to the place where I no longer feel bad doing personal stuff at work, providing I`ve done all the work-work I could have done or could be doing. Also, if the tone is strange, I`m composing this at my desk on a scrap piece of paper, with my left hand. So much brain in there, gotta keep it active somehow.

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If you don`t want to read this post, long story shot: we had a great time seeing the Oki Dub Ainu Band in Obihiro, about three hours from Sapporo, a few weeks ago.
This is the Band`s site (in Japanese): http://www.tonkori.com/profile/index.php

You can find some mediocre clips on YouTube, but they don`t do the band justice.
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So, what`s exciting in my life recently? The best recent experience was a trip to Obihiro, a small city (~100,000) in South-Central Hokkaido. Alice and I wanted to get out of the city and so took the excuse of seeing a wicked local band performing there.

So, we went to Sapporo Station (the main mall and train station, downtown) to buy tickets. As you walk into the JR (Japan Rail) Counter, a woman in a red stewardess outfit swoops into action. Now, this red is so bright and red that it isn`t actually part of the spectrum, you just have to imagine it. And the outfit, incongruous in a mall, to say the least, is such an exemplar `50s Stewardess outfit that you swear it`s the ideal form and doesn`t exist except in God`s imagination. It`s too perfect to belong to any Airline in the real world. Anyways, as soon as she sees you are not Japanese, ie performs a quick biometric survey, she swoops toward you to most kindly offer assistance and information in English. I feel confident we could have conveyed our purchasing wishes to the monolingual man behind the counter without her aid, but I suppose it is nice to receive extra help. (If you`re reading between the lines here, you`ll note that occasionally, as my Japanese slowly improves, I get frustrated when people remove the opportunity for me to practice, just as I get frustrated when people with limited english abilities give up on communicating with me.)

So, we payed the bill. Let me tell you about bills in Japan: They suck. Utility bills; Food bills; Entertainment bills; Most relevently, train bills: they all suck. It cost us about $120 each, round, to take this 3hour trip on one of the main lines across the island. Basically, train fares don`t make it that pleasant to hop around the place and explore.

That Friday night, I went to a Hanami (a picnic in Cherry Blossom season) party organised by another ALT`s school, though the open invite meant it was mostly overrun by JET`s always eager for a party. The standard (meaning rather expensive) price bought access to cans of beer spilling out of bags and baskets onto the ground. However, though the Invitation proffered Vegetarian options, this consisted of the cabbage and onions that act as the sideshow of `Genghis Khan` (lamb), as well as a few seafood items that don`t make the transition to BBQ so well. Someday Japan will understand Vegetarianism, and I will be proud to have contributed my proselytizing/whining to that development.

--On a side, note, I`m trying to mostly cut fish out of my diet as well, as I keep hearing about how devestated fish stocks are EVERYwhere, and how much we mess up the oceans in our efforts to scoop up what remains. Industrial fishing (as it is practiced anywhere in the world today) is simply not sustainable. Basically the only meat-based protein I`ll be getting is from the free-range chicken eggs Alice has managed to find--

Despite the fact that my stomach rumbled, and there weren`t actually any blossoms at this Hanami (they had already fallen in Sapporo, by that point), I still had a good night. The drinking culture seems to allow spontaienous crossing of party lines, so, without the nervousness that would have accompanied the act back home (because of my somewhat shy nature), I ambled over to a big party of what could only be University students having a good time. Within a minute, a big group had huddled around to hear the funny foreigner. [I`m not sure if a Japanese person making the same sudden intrusion is greeted with the same interest. For groups of foreigners, it is as easy as lifting a glass in a kampai (cheers) to another table at a restaurant, or wandering to another room at a karaoke bar, to find a group ready to welcome and chat and laugh and (always) drink.] After five minutes I told them I just wanted to say hello, and that they were welcome to come over to our party and chat if they wanted, and then I turned to return. When I got back to our picnic, I realised that ten to fiteen of them had followed me! If a not very exciting or outgoing person like me can cause this, Japanese (youth at least) are clearly either eager to talk with foreigners, or just to share beer and a good time in general.

Anyway, the party led to early morning packing before rushing to the train station. Now, the train. The most interesting thing about the train was the most annoying thing about the train, this being the PA Announcement from Hell`s aural department. Everywhere you go in Japan you are incessantly bombarded with electronic and prerecorded messages, and sometimes public transportation is the worst. The high-pitched (being extra polite) voice droned on for between 5 and 50000 minutes to inform riders of the entire list of stops across the whole line, their sequence and spacing, as well as the rules of etiquette aboard the train, and the options at the snack bar and each individual item`s variety of flavours and accompanying costs. I couldn`t catch all of this in Japanese, but I didn`t have to because the message was then repeated in English - though somewhat more succintly. Worst of all, both recordings were repeated after every single stop the train made. Sigh.

We got to Obihiro not knowing anything about the town or anything about where the concert was. As we pulled into the station, we realised that this town was not in any way interesting or unique looking, and someone might as well have just grabbed an indifferent district from Sapporo and plopped it down in the middle of otherwise pretty countryside.

So far it doesn`t sound like I`m that positive about this weekend trip... but really, I am! Mostly the experience was enriched by the people we saw and met. After arriving, we called the concert info number and I tried to ask for directions. Whoever I was talking to declined that request, and instead told me to wait at the station for someone to come pick us up! The operator`s friend, a volunteer setting up for the concert, drove us the 20 minutes out of town, to a quaint commercial Garden/Park/Touristy Place. The concert was at the Park`s Town Hall style building.

With time to kill, and not knowing where we would stay that night, we probably looked lost. Somebody came up and asked if he could help us - turns out he was running the Garden Centre (whose name I should probably look up). In the office, he started to look up hotels in the city, as a coworker brought some snacks to share (we couldn`t eat the Instant Ramen because of the meat). Soon, though, he just told us that if we were trustworthy people, we could sleep in the concert hall with the band crew, after the concert!! So, we stumbled past wires and drum sets and a few confused stares, and stowed our packs in a loft in the hall.

In order to offer some payment for this generosity, we insisted on doing some work. This consisted of scraping and cleaning the park`s stack of BBQ grills. Eventually, Shinya, an employee at the park, drove me into town with him so I could buy some food.

After killing 5 hours at the park, it was finally time for the concert. Numbers slowly swelled as a huge range of people arrived. A large portion of the audience was Ainu, with old people and young people alike. The band leader, Oki, is a vocal but not violent activist for Ainu music and culture. The band incorporated modern and traditional instruments, and that night co-performed with an Ainu women`s group, which sang beautiful echoing and throat-wobbling songs. The mucic`s tone was deep, befitting the Dub in Oki Ainu Dub Band, the mix of dub, reggae and traditional styles unique . The show was essentially dry, with everybody (toddlers and grandmas alike) loving every minute. To end the show, everybody in the audience gathered round in a circle dance to the last number, holding hands and weaving back and forth to the rythm, before the band came down and chatted.

The music and the atmosphere, along with the genuine and genuinely kind people we met all day, made it an awesome experience.

Oh, but we didn`t end up staying with the band that night, which was a bit of a relief (because we didn`t want to impose). Instead, we ran into another JET at the concert, who let us stay in his place that night. It was a mere 45 minutes away by car!!! Thanks Austin! Only on the JET program can you wander pretty much anywhere in Japan and find someone you (sort of) know, who`s willing to take you in, on the spot.

The next day, after a slow morning (not everybody was dry at the concert), we took in an onsen (first mixed onsen I`ve been in, men and women allowed, though we were the only ones there. It was a big garish hotelish-thing built in the 50`s, with about 7 different onsen baths. It looked like it hadn`t seen a cement patch kit or a drop of paint since the 50`s.), had lunch in a cosy tatami-floored soba-etc shop, and then caught the three hour train back to Sapporo before work on Monday.

The Japanese Mind: an ambitious title

2008-05-14T15:14:00.004+09:00

After reading `Shutting out the Sun,` I wanted to read something a little more biased toward an insider`s perspective. My library consists of what previous JETs have left behind, and what current JETs are willing to share, so what I came up with is `The Japanese Mind.` This is an ambitiously titled A to Z of some guiding principles of Japanese life, a collection of essays written by University students studying in English. I think it`s overly simple to analyse culture based on a few select vocabulary words, and indeed some of the essays seem eager to see a reflection of mainstay stereotypical concepts, rather than to observe society and comment appropriately. Similarly, the history of a few words is not synonomous with, or sufficient to explain the development of an entire society. Nonetheless, some of these basic essays do shed light on behaviours I`ve encountered since coming to Japan. I want to comment on some of the concepts, as they relate to my experiences here. In the next few posts, I`ll probably alternate back and forth, giving personal updates and then discussing these concepts.

The Japanese Mind: Amae.
In Shutting out the Sun, Zeilenger discusses hikikomori recluses and parasite singles, who live at home into middle age. Both might be seen as extreme cases of abuse of dependency, or amae. Amae refers to relationships of dependence between individuals, as well as layers of decreasing dependency in concentric social circles (which, as Zeilenger notes, relates to Japanese people not helping strangers unless directly asked). The strongest example of expected dependancy is between a mother and her child. Parents expect children to rely on them heavily, and to be at the disposal of the child for as long as the child/adolescent/adult requires. Parents probably want to help their child in all cultures, but the view strongly contrasts with one that seeks to create independent children, able to stand on their own as soon as possible. Parents here often support children who live away from home, attending expensive schools with no employment, even through graduate or doctoral studies, even into their working years. Alternatively, many youth live at home through school, and continue to do so until well into their careers.
There is also the continuing conservative duty for children (traditionally the eldest son) to maintain the household and look after the parents when they age. To that end, many children live close to their parents throughout life. This shows the reciprocal nature of the dependent relationship, which is never supposed to be one way. Even children are supposed to fulfill certain expectations in treatment of their parents, as well as social development. Following this, the support is supposed to be repaid in parents` old age.
Zeilinger seems disappointed by parents who hide their recluse offspring and continue to support parasite singles, but viewing it with amae in mind fills out the problem some what. There is no mechanism in place for parents to significantly alter or remove the support for their children, barring a severe schism in the family. So, hikikomori and parasaito abuse the dependency relationship, perhaps without fulfilling their part of the bargain regarding social development and treatment of the parents. We can`t dismiss the parents or the dependents as weak because this relationship has long been cultivated in both public and private spheres. In public, in close circles at least, as a result of amae, `No` is not usually an acceptable answer. Meaning if an individual struggles with parts of social life, he is not able to decline or refuse it in an overt way. Likewise, women who have been taught to depend on their own households until finding marriage and transferring their dependency/responsibility, yet do not wish to marry, might avoid an awkward social situation by simply staying at home. This tactic of hiding essentially precludes the need to say no, and is not surprising in a society that abhorrs diffidence and dissonance. The implication is that hikikomori, who Zeilinger sees as protestors against what is wrong with modern Japanese society, are taking a very Japanese approach to avoiding the problem, further embedding themselves in their childish roles of dependency.
I also encounter consequences of the concept of amae in my daily life. A sense of dependency is encouraged in students in Japan, and many observers note that students here are less mature than their cohorts in other countries. The differences are a noticeable lack of self-awareness or assertiveness, creativity, descisiveness, and a surplus of dependency and docility. Teachers and students have very intimate relationships (at least, from my perspective), nurtured by the homeroom system. Homeroom teachers are responsible for their students in all classes, clubs, and in or out of school time alike. Students come to teachers with all range of problems, and teachers have an obligation to help, pretty much no matter what. Teachers don`t expect that students are able to learn on their own, or work on their own, and regularly supply answers that were supposed to be discovered. Class lessons proceed with the assumption that all students already know how to complete the work, rather than the hope that through challenge the students will learn. It is up to teachers to spoon feed all the information that will be on standardized tests at certain points throughout the youths` lives. It is not expected that students engage with the material, stay on top of new information, work through problems to challenge themselves, and actively learn. The other day, I spent an hour after school with another teacher, essentially writing speeches for students who hadn`t finished the work at home, or in the ample extra time which was given in class.
I struggle with this type of teaching, as I continually want to challenge the students more. I repeatedly make exercises that cause the students difficulty, because I expect them to be able to pull together information they have learned to realise an answer, rather than simply fill in a blank. Moreover, even after three years of study, the students` average level is surprisingly low, even on materials essential in the curriculum. I feel this is because teachers refuse to challenge their students, and consequently must always proceed at a slow pace, to avoid threatening student`s comfort zone.
However, this is above all an example of my inability to internalize a cultural concept. My personal view is that students should be taught, and then challenged. Here, that students feel supported is perhaps equally important to them learning and demonstrating new knowledge. I always viewed teachers as a source of augmentation and clarification for me to tap and drain as needed, whereas most of my learning was from studying material on my own. Here, students spend a lot of time in cram schools, indicating that there is little faith / expectancy in them learning on their own. Teachers are here to support them exhaustively, and to provide all the information they will need. Even though I recognize the different mentality, it`s hard to internalize. I still get frustrated when it seems the students are being coddled... and they don`t do their homework... again.

new season, new school, more smiles

2008-04-25T10:08:00.004+09:00

Randomata: Useless Talent #5 - Pen Twiddling. In Tarantino`s `Grindhouse,` one character portends that you discover a use for every random useless talent, eventually. I spent most of my 3rd and 4th years at University working on my pen-twiddling in class. Since I`m a very punctillious student, I actually attended my classes and thus had ample pen-twiddling perfecting time. The upside of me not paying attention in class is that I now have an `in`, something to connect me with the students when nobody much feels like talking. Flicking the pen across my knuckles, around my fingers, dropping it as they teach me new tricks: class time-wasting distractions are truly the universal language english aspires to be. (I`m not sure what my useless talents #1-3 are, but I`ll let you know when I discover them. Juggling is number 4.)

Positivia: Following a couple blogposts in which I detailed what might be seen as Japan`s many problems, I`d like to offer a personal update. And I`d like to keep it mostly positive, if that`s all right with you (meaning me, my most devoted reader).

I have been doing better, probably because it is spring. That was by far the longest, coldest, and darkest winter of my life, literally though perhaps not figuratively speaking. But now we`ve had some early warmth and sunshine, and I`m starting to feel alive and awake again after 6 months of lethargy and mental hibernation.

The Cherry Blossom Wave has finally hit Hokkaido -

ASIDE: Every year, at the end of winter, news channels and papers start issuing Blossom Forecasts, with nifty graphics portraying the progress of the Nation`s most symoblic bud (though it`s not officially the national flower). People talk about the coming of Pink like an impending sports extravaganza. News cameras flash around the nation`s hotspots as a branch sprouts here, and there, and over there just a little. I only just learned how shortlived the blooming season is, as short as two weeks or even ten days. So, people schedule `hanami` parties, basically picnics in parks with lots of Cherry Blossoms, involving appreciation of the ephemeral and wondrous nature of nature as well as food and booze.

- so tomorrow I should be going to a hanami party with my Japanese tutor and some of her other students, as long as the weather holds. And just now I got a fax on my desk (yea... they still use faxes for some reason) inviting me to a party next Friday. INSERT PICTURE HERE - OR WAIT TILL NEXT POST AND INSERT IT THERE :)

With the better weather I`ve been able to spend some time outside, and to start training for the Sapporo Marathon in September, which is way too close and way too far away. Physical exertion + sunshine = happy. It`s much harder to be negative when you`re jogging along a river through the city, listening to music, surrounded by kids playing soccer, baseball, or tuba, and people playing in packs, pretending only the dogs need the run-around.

Oh, I`ve moved into my girlfriend`s apartment. That should significantly cut down the amount of time I waste on subways. Previously I was spending as much as three hours just moving around the city in the stuffy subways, from work to home and to her place and whatnot. Yuck.

ASIDE: When I build a city, I`m definitely sticking to above ground public transit, like Vancouver`s Skytrain. That lets you get to know the city better, and also lets you see the sun and daylight, and not feel like you are trapped in a dark and dingy tunnel (read cage). Any commute is weary enough without that extra hemmed in feeling. Tangentially, there will also be paved bike paths weaving through the city, with three lanes (one for passing), lights for the night, and plants or bushes lining its lengths.

Also beneficial to my health has been the change to a new school. Making a change of scenery has allowed me to see some of the changes in myself. I have learned how to fit in better in this work environment, how to deal with the teachers and students, how to stay relaxed but also eager to get more involved. My Japanese is also immeasurably better than when I arrived at my previous school, fresh off the JET.
Largely, though, the improvement is due to the different atmosphere at this school. I was warned that this school would be a rougher, lower classed, less academically able school. What I have found, so far, is very real people who engage with me much more openly than I`ve been used to in Japan. The students talk to me and joke around with me even if they dont`t know the words to say in English. At my previous school, with very high academic standards, it seemed that many students were afraid to talk to me if they couldn`t say something exactly right. Here, they use a delightful mix of both languages and nonsense, which is rather more interesting for me. Perhaps it is premature to say this, but I think the personality and behaviour displayed here would be more conducive to communicating in English in the real world, and in the future, even though students at my previous school score better on tests.
Anyways, the teachers are more relaxed, more human and less stonewalling. It helps that I am more relaxed as well, as I`ve become accustomed to being here and somewhat more confident. We had a hilarious enkai to start the term, including the traditional school dance performed (as per tradition) by male teachers in female lingerie. The other day I played volleyball with teachers and students for three hours until the dark of night. After lunch today, a bright young student who wants to be an astronaut was trying to teach me some physics.
The result is that I feel way more content about my place and my role here so far, and my body has been absolutely aching with relief (I`m pretty darn weak when it comes to volleyball - owwww).

Summary of Japan: "Shutting out the Sun," Book Review

2008-03-26T21:36:00.003+09:00

After I wrote that last post complaining about various aspects of life here in Japan, I discovered a book that summed pretty much every observation I've had since I came here. In "Shutting out the Sun," Michael Zielenziger discusses a confused and stifling society that was unprepared for the modernity it encounters today. He explains everything from why Japanese people don't help strangers who slip on the sidewalk to why middle aged, middle income people who can't afford their own homes spend hordes on Louis Vuitton bags.
Japan thrived in the democracy and capitalism thrust upon her after World World II through highly bureaucratic and rigid structures, without undergoing transformations in understanding Japan's place as part of a broader world. Japan's rigid triangle of bureaucrats, politicians, and government-sponsored corportions combines with a closed mindset regarding Japan's uniqueness. The government continues to refuse or make it difficult for foreign investors and firms to get a hold in the economy. In the new world, amidst the globalization accelerated by the internet, Japan's economy is in decline (though it's still the worlds second largest).
People live a consumeristic life rife with foreign products, without truly envisaging a Japan that exchanges both products and ideas with the rest of the world. A confusing blend of rituals and beliefs of the past incongruosly vie with modern life. A focus on national economic ends means people give all their time and energy to corporations, creating their identity from who they work for. A decline in the economy has been associated with disillusionment of this idea. Now, people don't have an intense connection to beliefs of the past, nor an intimate enough understanding of any modern ideas that could replace them. People continue to act as if only the corporate body matters, even though a career no longer brings with it a life-time community, or a hermetic group identity as it once did. People have the concept of individuality without the societal sanction and personal means to explore it. Hence the million or so young men who lock themselves in their rooms in favour of facing the corporate world. Hence the tens of thousands who kill themselves each year because they let the group down in some way, or simply couldn't express their individual stress or depression.
The society that so stresses homogeneity and group identity has yet to come to terms with individuals who selectively commit to group values - such as women who choose to work and not have children. The society that so stresses division of the sexes provides no networks for men and women to develop casual (and romantic) relationships, despite the fact that people no longer have the institution of arranged marriage to assist them. The closedminded society continues to aggressively limit immigration, despite the low birthrate that decreases the population by ten thousand people each year. Intelligent, creative, emotive people commit themselves to slow-moving, lifeless drudgery of innummerable professions at the expense of a developed network of family and friends, and creative and challenging personal lives outside work. People no longer feel a strong enough connection to their select groups, and yet cultural mores continue to inhibit the ability to trust outsiders and make new connections (people who slip on the sidewalk are outsiders, and so not one's responsibility to help).
Fear of dischord makes it difficult for any one (at university, in the government, in the press) to invite ideas of significant change. Nobody particularly desires whale meat, but the government refuses to cease hunting. Rigidity and fear of change mean that, even once proposed, changes are frightfully slow. Zielenziger sees a cultural malaise that stifles personal intellect, creativity, and meaning in life through anything but consumerism, hence the Louis Vuitton bags. The same malaise prevents the nation from truly opening up to new ideas, foreign investment, and immigrants who could help support the decreasing and rapidly aging population.
The dissonance between stated ideal and reluctance to change means Japan spends the most of all Asian countries on English studies, and yet continually scores among the lowest. Most people don't seem able to actually consider english a tool to connect Japan with much of the rest of the world. English tudors and extra lessons are just one more thing to buy.

[Japan doesn't have to 'open up' to the world if it doesn't want to. However, Zielenziger points out that the trends he sees are detrimental to many of the individuals who make up the Japanese nation.]

life is boring here

2008-03-07T17:36:00.002+09:00

In a training seminar before we left home, they warned us that halfway through the first year in Japan you might feel like ranting about all the stuff that is wrong, all the stuff that is different from home. They advised keeping these rants to a minimum, and trying to shift focus. Naaa. Here's the rant.

Life for people here is entirely work, which I’m not thrilled about. Working overtime is expected, or assumed. People identify themselves by who they work for. Everybody talks about work like it is the only important thing in life. People ‘sneak’ short holidays in, talking the rest of the time about how they are too busy to take real holidays. Even if there is little work to be done, or it would be possible to do the work more efficiently, existing tasks are spread out or new tasks created to take more time and effort to give an excuse to stay at work, not leave on time and not take holidays, and to have more work to work on. Not that this burden is placed on me, only it’s sad to be surrounded by it all the same. I feel like I am inconveniencing people when I ask them to do something fun, like see a movie, because they are so consumed by and tired from work. Simple events like that, or a dinner, are planned a month in advance, with humming and hawing. From the sounds of it, such events (ie NOT work) only take place perhaps once a month!
It’s hard to say if the work ethic is actually so extreme that people only take one half day off every week (ie Saturday morning) to rest, and do nothing else the rest of the time but work… or if the ethic of talking about work is simply so extreme as to make it sound that way. Either way, there is no comfortable struggle against the reality that work takes up most of our lives. It might be a flimsy and illusory struggle anyway, but I miss the eagerness to get home at the end of the day, to split early for the weekend, to talk about all the stuff besides work that is going on, so we can all pretend we don’t only live to work. (HUGE bias, I know. But is there not some fundamental distinction between individuals and institutions that suggests space for a fulfilling identity outside the institution?)

It’s a sexist place. Statistically speaking, wages and status are still hugely askew in favour of men. Leadership, politics, authority: man’s duty. Though female participation has increased in many industries, that fact hasn’t changed. Women have gained some freedom to focus on work, and many marry and have children later (or don’t at all). Yet, there still seems a comfortable acceptance of women’s subservience, and her domestic duties to clean the house and feed the family, etc. I did meet one female principal, but the percentage of female office assistants (ie Tea Ladies) is far higher than that of female principals. The banks, too, seem to assume the wife is still free at home and in charge of household finances, capable of getting to the bank before 3pm, by which time nobody is finished work.
It’s more than just unequal wages. Female friends (sorry to steal so many of your observations) tell me they feel the pressure to be meek and subservient (which none of them are, by Japanese standards). There is an informal hierarchy that places old people and oldish men in suits at the top and women and handicapped people at the bottom, though foreigners mostly confuse and surprise everybody. Again, this is based upon my friend’s noting of those whom older men in suits feel the least hesitation in (literally) shoving out of their way.

Worse, the sexism plays into the hypersexualization of women. Besides hostesses and prostitutes, and besides the endless pornography in magazines and manga, there are the actual women who stand next to you on the subway. At the very least, most of these women are intensely made up, every inch of skin smeared with some product, their hair coiffed at exorbitant prices with exorbitant amounts of cream or spray or gel or mouse holding the hair frozen in unnatural perfection. Then there are the outfits. Most look like mannequins from magazines, carefully tailored to the perfect image of feminine business women (emphasis on the feminine) meets life-size doll. Many others actually look like prostitutes. Of course there are the familiar fishnets and knee-highs, and other ridiculous shoes that nobody can walk in. It is painful to watch the women walking here. The shoes are shaped wrong or their bones are shaped wrong or the heels are simply too high, but there is a terrible ankle-wrenching gait that makes one hate the fact that women could do that to themselves just to look good, to look taller. Winter’s snow and ice exacerbates perambulator difficulty, but I assure you there is no reduction in the number of heels on the road.
Likewise, -10 weather did nothing to change the number of women (and girls) wearing skirts. It’s a skirt culture. Starting in Junior Highschools all girls wear skirts, which they learn to roll and hike higher and higher, perhaps taking their cue from their mirror images in manga and other media. I’m not saying I wish women wouldn’t wear skirts, especially in summer, and even short skirts, if the occasion calls for it. However there is something disturbing about seeing completely fake looking, uncomfortable, over-sexualized women heading to work in all sorts of jobs, day after day. It seems appropriate that teachers, at least, wear pants that don’t show that enticing little bit of ass cheek below the bottom hem.

To mention schoolgirls in short skirts is to segue into a wider characteristic of the culture: it’s love for the infantile. Young is sexy - true everywhere, I know, but exaggerated here. There’s a certain look that many girls seem to go for, that makes it hard to differentiate between the ages of 13 and 30. Media is full of grown women dressed like young girls, acting like children, speaking in childish voices, which is quite disturbing when tied to the sexual. The dolled up schoolgirl with the hiked up skirt is the icon of sexuality, leading many a grown man to buy the corresponding manga, leading some men and at least one principal to start stealing and collecting girls' underwear.
I don’t believe most people here think about the extent of this blend of infantilizing and hypersexualizing. I mentioned going to Satoland during the Snow festival. Satoland was the children’s area of the festival, with slides and mascots and thousands of kids. On the pamphlet and map was a picture of a 6-12 year old cartoonish, half-doll girl in a short skirt with her knee turned in, looking coy. This was a pamphlet for kids and their parents.

Even divorced slightly from its sexual component, the focus on the infantile is worth its own comment. Media is full of cartoony adds and actors that seem targeted at 8 year olds (but they’re not). In daily interactions you immediately notice the high-pitched, childish voice that is associated with politeness (used in much conversation), as well as facial expressions, over-acting, huge emphasis on things cute and comic that can make any one seem like an overgrown child. Cartoon figures and diagrams adorn every wall. Cartoons and a recorded voice inform you that you are riding an escalator and that doors open and subway trains tend to stop and start. I have the sneaking suspicion that as long as everyone is over-enthusiastic in response to a few key simple or cute things, nobody will notice the lack of genuine intellectual challenge or stimulation. Everything is safe, rather uninteresting. It’s just an escalator. (Someone did die on one, despite the warnings.)
More than simply avoiding conflict, what the politeness and infantile mean is that nobody has to let down their fronts and actually engage with the people around them. The extreme politeness is intended to formalize, depersonalize without disrespecting. It is very nice to be treated politely, definitely. However, it grows tiresome to have countless interactions day after day and never feel like your are butting up against real people. The infantilizing and over-enthusiasm work to the same effect, allowing everyone to meet on this hyper-polite, cutesy and bubbly plain where nobody actually has any personality. [I’d like to stop and say that this paragraph sounds way harsher than I mean it too. Japanese people most definitely have personalities, only this certain way of acting – especially in short exchanges with work acquaintances or strangers, even in beginning friendships – works to avoid acknowledging that fact.]
I tend to lean toward the over-polite, which back home lead me to feel more like an old man than the teenager I recently was. When I worked at a coffee shop, I held up the ‘polite-employee’ front far longer than coworkers, even after developing fairly casual friendships with some customers. I like polite. I like acting ‘professional’ when it is called for. I even like enthusiasm.
Nonetheless, there is such a thing as being too careful and too forcibly enthusiastic. I know: it takes learning and patience to wade through the politeness and distancing techniques that people use here, and I know I simply don’t understand how to connect with people very well. That’s my own fault. But I still feel like people shouting “CUUUUUTEEEEE” as if it were a substantial divulgence of personal import impinges rather than furthers the development of a relationship, especially when the cuteness of a given object is the subject of definitive import for the entire conversation. True, I can’t understand what people talk to each other about, because my Japanese is so limited. Yet, from me at least, few people seek anything more than superficial conversation. In journalism and sociology it is constantly reiterated that Japanese people seek to avoid tension or conflict and are less analytical, all of which are components of what I consider interesting and challenging conversation. In so many [but by no means all] interactions, the cutesy pretence is the substance of the interaction.

I can’t think of a good segue, but food doesn’t really need one, does it. Food. I like sushi, I like nabe (boiling some veggies in a pot on the table, with friends gathered round), I like tempura; hell, I even like rice and seaweed. I like most Japanese food. All the same, the food situation here is kind of lacking. First problem: fruit is expensive in the stores, and that SUCKS. Fruit is not a major focus of the diet here. Perhaps it ties into the fact that limited parts of Japan are suitable for growing a small variety of fruits, and the country has a strong history of emphasizing local food-production rather than importation. Each region eats its own products first and foremost (traditionally, and somewhat still true), which means vegetables, meat or fish, and (of course) rice: that’s the stuff. As I said, I like all those things, but I do miss quality and affordable fruit, and being surrounded by people who like fruit. I realized the other day that I felt awkward because I was sitting on a bench eating an apple. I felt awkward because I wasn’t eating something wrapped in plastic, purchased from the nearest conbini (like everybody around me). That’s messed up.
Further, even the common foods – hell, even the exquisite foods – are characterized by simplicity and uniformity. Sashimi, admittedly delicious, is a lack of cooking and adornment. There is a limited selection of sauces and spices, mostly just some salty soy sauce or spicy wasabe, and then variations and combinations of similar. Rice, which is everywhere and always, is rarely seasoned in interesting ways. Pretty much everything is either not cooked at all or boiled slightly, without much flavour. Otherwise, everything is fried, whether in tempura batter or just drenched in oil. I have watched friends eat some disgusting looking fried chicken from what I thought were pretty classy places.
As for restaurants, there is an assortment in a big city like Sapporo. However, the vast majority of restaurants produce exactly the same food. A million ramen signs adorn the street, because Sapporo is famous for that formerly Chinese, noodle-soup. It’s always the same ramen. All other genres of Japanese food are repeated with exactitude in the multitude of venues strewn about the streets and endless floors and basements of labyrinthine department stores. As with Starbucks’ ubiquity back home, it’s nice to be able to expect consistency and uniformity with what you order, no matter where you are. Sometimes though, a little variety would be nice. Sometimes, it’s boring as hell.
There are some international options, perhaps even ‘lots’ compared to many places in Japan. Yet, the food is not always high quality, even if the prices are high. Funny things happen to adopted foods…omelet gets misidentified as a rice dish, pasta gets slimy and lacking in vegetables and flavour, pizza gets cheap cheese and who knows what put on it, and bread…
Better not get started on bread. A thousand identical bakeries with different names all sell the same endlessly, sickeningly buttery, sugary, bleached bread with no nutritional value whatsoever, with no whole wheat bread available practically anywhere…
…that’s not to say there are no good restaurants. We’ve found a couple of Indian and Thai restaurants that continually satisfy (more than satisfy). Umm, the gaijin bar TK6 has fish ‘n chips and a good quesadilla... You can go Chinese, but usually those restaurants are suspiciously Japanese seeming. Let’s see… well, yeah, curry has become quite popular, so it’s not to difficult to get tasty curry. But if you want to broaden your horizons beyond that, you really have to dig. Yea, I’ve been spoiled by the endless variety of restaurants at arm’s reach in Vancouver. We’re going to try a Turkish place tonight for the first time… maybe I’m being too hard on Sapporo’s options. I definitely have to search more.

Oh, did I mention that restaurants and bars and coffee shops all leave you stinking like smoke? I know most places in the world don't have the smoking ban from back home, but it would be nice if the restaurants at least had ventilation. Sometimes for kicks they have a separate, sealed room with high tech air modifiers; but usually the air is thick with smoke.

That’s the thing, if the Japanese decide to do something, they will do it precisely, and with baubles. Rituals formalize every interaction. Food aesthetics are incredible. Cell phone technology is amazing. The department stores are vast and boggling. People are all made up to look like people in pictures.
However, the problem is that once something is done a certain way, things are very slow to change. [I know, change is hard for everybody, hence QWERTY keyboards.] Japan was slow to take broadband internet, even though it is supposed to lead the world in technology. Offices still don’t use email, because of the importance of hand-stamping every document. Banks close at 3pm, ATM’s close in the evening, there’s no interact or POS debit, there’s no online banking. As for food, there has been little fusion. Foreign and Japanese foods have not created new ways of cooking or new delights; old ways of cooking stand side by side. And it is enough to offer mediocre foreign food, because it is the option of foreign food that counts, not the quality of that food.
Furthermore, if something is not officially labeled as important, it doesn’t exist. I’m thinking especially of the awful aesthetics of the cities here, which I’ve mentioned before. Cities are admirably free of litter (especially considering the dearth of trashbins and the amount of disposable packaging from all food products), but trashy all the same. Since the depression, government-led construction has placed no importance whatsoever on aesthetics. Brutalist, megalithic apartment buildings marr ever city. Hodgepodge houses that seem to lack even individual coherence fill the residential areas. Hideous pachinko parlors are far more frequent than those beautiful temples you see in magazines. It has been decided that temples should be clean and beautiful. It has not been decreed that cities should be nice to look at, therefore, they’re ugly (-I hyperbolize, but not without some basis).
Oh, another example would be domestic violence and spousal abuse. Until very recently no thought was given to the topic whatsoever. It wasn’t reported, it didn’t exist. If anything, a degree of abuse was expected. With their penchant for focusing on catchy engrish borrowings, the term ‘D, V’ eventually crept into public discourse. So, now, even though some people might not know what D, V stands for in English, awareness of domestic violence is slowly increasing. It is now something that people are officially allowed to talk about, so it exists. From the sounds of it, though, police still often refuse to intervene in households that report abuse. Old ways are best…
Unbelievable amounts of polluting energy and materials are created in packaging food and all products. Millions of disposable chopsticks are used everyday. These areas haven’t been taken into consideration in widespread conservation rhetoric. Nobody thinks about it. They haven't been told to consider these things wasteful.
Then there’s that whole whaling thing…

Close mindedness is reinforced in a lot of ways.
Japanese spend a lot of time reading (highly literate population) and learning about the outside world. From what I can tell, though, the focus is the outside world’s wars and turmoil. The world is painted as an unsure and unsafe place. Perhaps that is why people only sneak quick getaways, or rather excursions. Few people travel extensively, few people live abroad. Few people consider the possibility of living elsewhere. It is better only to borrow from abroad, and stay at home.
Only Japan is safe and consistent. Furthermore, Japan is… enough. It already does things properly and has everything you could want. Why go any where else?
Above all, Japan is ‘different.’ I constantly hear people speaking of things that are only done in Japan, or are characteristically Japanese, even if neither is true. Evolutionary theory struggled to gain footing here – surely Japanese people are different? Common sense once dictated that AIDS couldn’t be contracted by a Japanese person, because it wasn’t a ‘Japanese disease.’
The same thinking (and coincidental legislation) continues to make it impossible for immigrants to feel like true citizens. No matter how long you’ve lived here, you still have to get your fingerprints checked at customs. Because you’re not Japanese (pretty sure… should probably double check that factoid).
The same thinking allows the government to keep spending money to bring in foreign ALT’s, who are essentially fancy, expensive baubles of foreigness to be safely monitored, touched and gaped at by students, and then sent home. ALT’s rarely acquire the respect of an equal, because we are rarely given responsibility and full trust. We are here partly to teach, mostly to simply be specimens of difference.

Music consists of mass-produced, thoughtless J-Pop, which inserts non-sense snippets of English at random. Alternative music is more J-Pop. People will speak with a twinkle-in-eye about the group with the most staying power (money, records, products, appearances everywhere) over the last decade, SMAP, a fabricated pretty-boy group with no distinctive talent. SMAP, indeed.

TV, despite the cool hair styles in anime, is cheap in the low-quality way. For kicks, people watch cheap Korean dramas instead. News is high-pitched and vacuous (you can tell just by looking at it) with video-journalism that mimics the cheap dramas.

Sapporo is really cold (Now I am just whining.) in the winter and humid in the summer. The city crews continually turn the streets into a deathtrap by not clearing away enough snow, or clearing too much and instead packing down razor thin or foot-thick sheets of ice all over the roads.

Homogeneity. There are few variations in hair, eyes, build, dress and life backstory. Yes, despite this Japanese people do all look different, and have completely distinct faces and identities. And they are beautiful people (and ugly, etc.) However, the people don’t look as different and interesting as different people from different races all put together in the same place. I’m not saying I miss being surrounded by white people, or people of my heritage, because I don’t particularly. I miss being surrounded by a variety of people with different faces and backgrounds, different stories to tell.

I have no summary to bring all these things together into one cohesive comment on Japan. I wouldn’t want to. Again, this is an incomplete list of things I don’t enjoy about this place, I could probably add more. It is extremely subjective, limited in evidence, culturally ignorant, at times exaggerated. Nonetheless, I didn’t write any of this out of the blue just for complaint’s sake. All of it has some experiential basis, however flawed.

It is most of all incomplete in the sense that this post lacks the “Pros” column. For the most part, I am positive about my surroundings. For the most part, I take blame for any dissatisfaction with my situation, while I am thankful to my situation when it brings me happiness – and that negative self-criticism and positive diffusion of credit is very Japanese of me. There are heaps of reasons why this is a good place, and I continue to discover these reasons.

sapporo snow festival (vegetarians not allowed)

2008-02-20T22:13:00.006+09:00

Randomata: a word unheard. Last week when ordering a pizza I confirmed four or five times that the selection I was making contained no meat. When the pizza arrived an hour and a half later (because we gave wrong directions... woops), my teeth just touched the cheese when my friend noticed the beef minced throughout the sauce. I blamed myself for not double checking one more time and specifically asking if the sauce had any pre-added meat. On the weekend, at a nice tapas bar, I scared three or four servers by asking for vegetarian recommendations. Finally we picked something that the head server said had no meat in it. I explained that I didn’t eat any meat whatsoever, and he confirmed after a direct question that there wasn’t meat in it. When the omelette-ish dish arrived, I took one bite and tasted sausage, chunks of which were spaced throughout. These are just two examples of an ongoing battle vegetarians face here.
Supposedly the word ‘vegetarian’ is one of those adopted into Japanese without a change to its meaning (just change to hiragana syllables). There are also, of course, ways to say that one doesn’t eat meat without reaching outside Japanese vocabulary, such as ‘nikku o tabenai.’ Nikku is a catch-all for beef (gyunikku), pork (buntanikku), and bird meat (torinikku). But no matter how you say it, you’re likely to provoke a surprised reaction from whoever is taking your order. In fact, they might seem downright scared (that they won’t be able to find any food for you, and that you are some strange anomaly they can’t fathom).
More confusing, however, are the people who nod in agreement, for they make it seem like the concept of vegetarianism is actually crossing the cultural-linguistic border. In reality, even if the word is known in a basic way, few people seem to understand the mentality behind it. People find it hard to understand why someone would choose not to eat meat, and it seems to suggest that that person is religious, allergic, simply doesn’t feel like eating meat at that moment, might just want a little bit less than usual, not a meat-focused dish, or perhaps doesn’t eat a lot of meat in their diet but might want to eat some now. Above all, that person is downright strange.
Japan might have been prescriptively vegetarian at some point in Buddhism’s heyday, but that time is long gone. Now it is very difficult to convince people that it is possible to not have meat, to remove it from a certain dish or, better yet, to cook without it in the first place. Difficulty arises when servers too quickly signal their understanding because there are many times the meat doesn’t even register in their minds as part of the dish, likely if it is: pre-mixed in a sauce, part of soup broth, minced finely, or placed amongst other ingredients (so that the meat doesn’t stand out as a main feature of the dish).
Sometimes I think that everywhere I go, me being vegetarian gives people a new view to think about; other times, I’m just hungry.

I haven’t checked in for a while now. I don’t think anything worth mention has happened –

– except the WICKED Snow Festival. At several sites throughout the city, ice and snow sculptures coupled with festivities and performances to provide entertainment to the hordes of visitors. Odori Park, the large Boulevard that runs through blocks and blocks of the city centre, was covered with massive displays of skilled carvings of temples and imagined scenes, as well as blocks of familiar and comical characters, and an amateur section, where some of my chums tried their hand. Susikino (the party centre of town) had a long line of sharp ice sculptures as well as an ice bar (a popular gimmick in Hokkaido). Perhaps most fun of all was Satoland (trans: sugarland), which was the kids’ section of the Festival. I went with three guys who were staying with me over the weekend. Sure, we’re all 22/23/24/27, but that doesn’t mean we can’t admit to still being kids…

Highlights include an ice maze, an ice tube slide, insanely enthusiastic dancers everywhere who periodically gathered on stage for a more official performance, and an organized yukigassen. Yes, in typical Japanese fashion, the snowball fight had a court, pre-made barricades, deployment tactics, stringent rules, helmets and bibs, and uniform pre-made, pre-counted snowballs (made with these awesome and awesomely simply snowball makers that every kid should want).

Having buds at my house was great, not so much because the four extra male bodies stank up the place almost beyond tolerance, and not because they bought me booze, but because their perspective on my apartment and the city was refreshing. They were thrilled with what the city has to offer (as compared to the small town they live in at the very opposite end of the country, southern Kyushu), and ensured me that I am very lucky to have such a comfortable apartment, close to anything I might need.

Also, my friend Lex is halfway through his second year as a JET. I enjoyed seeing the progress he has made with the language, and the fact that his enthusiasm for living here has not waned in the least. He has nothing but good things to say about the living, working, and playing situation of a JET: decent pay, heaps of paid time off, the chance to travel, the chance to learn about a new country, and relatively straightforward demands – just hang out with the kids a bit! All these things I know, but sometimes don’t think on. Course he speaks fluent French as well, and he’s just an enthusiastic guy in general, but it still gives me hope for my second year here in Japan.

Not everything gives me hope and excitement for that second year. Next post: 'life is boring here.'

struggles in the school system

2008-02-08T16:28:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Unsatisfied student. A third-year student at my junior high is applying to go to a high school in the United States. He asked me to check over his application paragraph, as did his teachers ask me to read over the review they must write in English. His justification was frustration with the close-mindedness of the Japanese school system, where teacher’s “don’t want to hear [his] opinion.” Junior high school does seem to stress repetition and retrieval of sanctioned information, rather than critical thinking. I think everybody (across the country) is expected to acquire basically the same knowledge, and not necessarily to analyze or dissect it. However, I’m not sure if this characteristic changes as the students age and move into high school. In a line that stood out for me, his teacher’s review presents the converse sentiment that the student has a “lack of patience and over-optimistic thinking.” I think the difference between the two comes from a lack of challenge for the student, who is eager to engage with English, not just reiterate required segments (‘regurgitate lifeless snippets on cue’ I would say in more polemical tones). He wants to practice speaking English, perhaps about real ideas relevant to his life, which actually happens very little in English class. I’m certainly not going to make any overarching comment on education in Japan being homogenous, suppressive, or ineffective. Yet, I think it unfortunate that a teacher should ever think a student ‘over-optimistic,’ his eagerness a ‘lack of patience.’

Randomata 1: Respect for authority and government control. The teachers in Hokkaido have had consecutive drastic pay cuts over the last several years (including one of 10%). Understandably, teachers are somewhat frustrated by the situation, considering their commitment and involvement at work has not lessoned accordingly. Months ago, at a conference of JETS (like me) and Japanese Teachers of English, one teacher took the opportunity to stand up and comment that the pay cuts were unacceptable and teachers should no longer work a minute past their contracted hours. Coincidentally, one of the managers from the Sapporo Board of Education was in the same seminar room and he directed a sidelong response that teachers don’t work as hard as they make it seem. You could feel the antagonism in the air, which is pretty much unthinkable here.
The teachers do have a union, but it is characteristically Japanese in key ways. Central tenets of life here seem to be acceptance of the status quo, respect for hierarchies of authority, and avoidance of overt social (and political) discord. Unsurprisingly, legislation bans disruptive strikes. I heard the word whispered amongst the teachers at my Junior High School. At my friend’s High School, the teachers took the only strike measure they could, again, one very characteristic of these hard working and devoted teachers:
After regular class hours (when they’d normally still be working), the teachers took 29 minutes to stop all work, have some drinks and cakes, and in such a way send a message to the government. Anything 30 minutes or longer would constitute an illegal ‘disruptive strike’. Their protest, then, did nothing to interfere with the educational system, and did not actually cause the authorities that much difficulty. Hopefully, if teachers continue to protest within their means, the government will lose face due to their undervaluing of teaching, a profession generally respected and prestigious.
In this place where respect for authority is paramount, a quiet struggle continues, an experiment to test the responsiveness of government to a largely docile populous. So, barring the threat of strike, what power has a union?

rocking the slopes and cooking in the dark

2008-01-31T20:30:00.001+09:00

First of all, I’m alive. I’ve been out of touch with people back home for a few weeks now, for which I have several excuses and no real reason, but I am definitely alive – doing rather well, actually.

Let’s see, excuses include most interestingly a lack of electricity. On a day of less than usual transience, I came home after work and flicked my genkan light switch to no effect. I immediately knew what the problem was; with my undisciplined postal awareness, less than exemplary filing system (ie a messy floor), and irregular paying habits, it wasn’t hard to guess. Apparently those notices with red writing that I kept receiving in the mail weren’t friendly letters congratulating me on another successful month in Japan. They were notices that I was about to have my power cut off! Such are the exigencies of illiteracy that now in darkness do I well.
The scoop is that somehow I managed to lose my power bill from last August or September, and for whatever reason it wasn’t added to my subsequent bills. In that case, I am thankful to the Man for not cutting me off sooner!
I wasn’t too concerned about the whole situation, even though the temperature has hovered between -6 and -10 for the last few weeks. Actually, The Weather Desktop (*TM) says it’s -11 right now. Truthfully, my heaters were broken before I moved into the apartment so I have been going through the whole winter without them anyway. Ironically enough, I just got my heaters fixed last week (company’s coming soon) and used them approximately once before my power went out.
In any case, I was accustomed to the cold. I had my handy headlamp and so was able to scrounge up some matches and candles. That first night, in fact, I had a quiet candle lit dinner chez moi avec book and a lovely cup of tea. (Since that, I’ve been mooching off the girlfriend ‘till I figure out how to say “I’m an idiot, please turn my electricity on” in Japanese).
Long story short, I haven’t had access to the internet for email’s sake, nor have I spent much time around the phone for phoning’s sake. I will figure out the power situation soon, and then I’ll be back in touch.

----The next day, I phoned the power company. After telling me that they didn’t speak English, the operator left the phone momentarily. He came back asking if it was Mr. Wilson calling. I didn’t tell him my name, and I wasn’t calling from my home phone…! Apparently there is only one person in the whole city who had his power cut off. Tee hee, silly me. I managed to tell him that I paid the pill and if my power worked that would be peachy. Now, Thurs the last of Jan, I’m at home and reconnected for the first time in a while, woot---

Second excuse: intentional disconnect. I had a decision of some import to make recently: whether or not to stay a second year here in the J-spot. I felt like my mind was bouncing back and forth between here and home a bit, so I figured I would focus on my friends and life here for just a little while until I made up my mind.
Depending on your feelings toward me and your current geographical location, the news is either good or bad. I’m staying. I’ve signed the contract, so barring any unforeseen calamity or severe change of heart, I’ve got around 18 more months before I’m out from under JET’s umbrella with a paid ride back home. (Later or in another post and if I remember, I’ll come back to my temporarily improved disposition toward my work situation.)

Third excuse: itsumo isogashii desu, jinsei te son’na mono sa (Always busy, such is life.) Work occupies the same amount of time as always, true, but I’ve been spending more time with friends (socializing as a regular way of life is still a bit new to me). There have been some more exciting activities to spice things up as well.
The weekend before last I went for a hike up the back of the tallest mountain in Sapporo, Teine, with friend Ido. The path was partly packed by previous perambulators, otherwise we would have simply drowned in the metres of soft powder, what with the snowshoes that didn’t fit our boots. It was an awesome four hours, followed by an enjoyable slide on my rump down the ski hill on the face of the mountain, to the bemusement of many a skier and boarder (some of whom I passed – man those M.E.C. rain pants are slick!), concluded by an ever wondrous soak in an onsen (this one had relaxing marble bucket soaking seats as well as personal ‘cradles’ to stand in and get the massage jets right where you need ‘em).

Last week I bought a gi and rocked up to a judo class that a fellow JET told me about. I spent a couple hours practicing falling over and smacking the floor properly. Yesterday night I did the same! I got thrown over some guys backed and slammed to the ground. Sweet! Today, I was only slightly sore all over.

Speaking of sore, all week I’ve actually had more sore muscles than at any one time before. Last weekend, a crew of us stayed at a friend JET’s place near Niseko, a ski town of some renown. Three of us took the plunge, hired snowboards and booked a lesson. Having skied only three times now, and boarded never, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Snowboarding always looked so immensely cool but also immensely difficult. However, as soon as I strapped in, I was hooked.

We were up the mountain about five hours both Saturday and Sunday. Though by Sunday I was able to shuffle down an easy run without falling, I kept trying to learn the proper movements and turning, as well as increasing my speed, which meant the falling didn’t stop. I think you could probably average it all out to a tumble every 2 minutes (maybe I was a slow learner). With ten hours up the mountain, that’s heaps of tumblin’ – all of it very ungraceful and some at unsafe speeds for a useless novice like me.

In any case, it was wicked. Hokkaido’s incessantly incredible powder kept coating the slope; the mountains never seem all that crowded here, but late Sunday evening I saw a total of two people on my way down the run; I was finally able to snake down the hill tip-first without spinning in circles to slow down; it was great fun hanging out with friends in a new town; I finally tried this damned sport that I’ve been afraid of for years and years: all around, it was awesome. We hopped the two hour train back to Sapporo, and were home by ten.

Consequently, the soreness. Unfamiliar muscles in about four or five places ache to high heaven – lying in bed, I actually had to lift my head up with my hands because the muscles around the throat that normally take that job were out on strike for the day! All the usual muscles too seem at risk of cramping at any moment. I love it!

Ok, so that’s a sense of why at this moment, I’m glad I decided to sign the contract and keep my option open for next year.

the (half-)year in review

2008-01-15T20:40:00.000+09:00

Randomata: 1. Students are not allowed to have any colour in their hair. A couple students (who, I guess, tried something new in the holidays) came into the office to have teachers quickly spray-dye their hair back to its natural black. 2. In the assembly, everybody speaks from a lower microphone on the floor until the principal has gone to the elevated mike up on the stage; when he bows in front of the mike, the entire school bows back. Teachers scan the rows of chairs (brought down from the classrooms with impeccable efficiency) and shift individual students to make sure the rows are in perfect alignment. Quite a sight is the sea of straight students with the same black suits and black hair and their straight rows of chairs, all bowing in unison to the man on stage. (I’m really not trying to say everybody is the same, only that in this they strive to make it look so).

The new year has turned; Thailand has come and gone, revelries galore as well: welcome back to work after three weeks of delicious and horrendous slothing. I forget how to wake up in the morning, I forget how to think, and I definitely forget how to work (hopefully I don’t forget how to write).

Several things hit me immediately when I get to my school for the first time in what feels like an eternity. Surprisingly, I just realized how little these kids are: in size and age and maturity, the kids at Junior High are soooo young. I think because I was nervous and had no basis for comparison, I didn’t see it before. Now, after that week at elementary schools and after a bit of time for reflection, and now that I’m not quite so nervous and intimidated by everything (for example, my girlfriend doesn’t frighten me so much or seem so tall anymore), I have a bit better idea of where these kids are at. Hopefully I continue to treat them with respect, as people of all ages deserve full respect; however, hopefully I continue to learn to better communicate and connect with them.

The next thing that hit me was just how much energy I put into ‘simply being’ here, which I’ve commented on before. The moment I got through those doors – actually, when I turned onto the street – I jumped into ‘work mode’, which means instant smiles, incessant greetings (whether students want them or not), and openness to any initiation of conversation or contact in any way whatsoever; putting on the appropriate face, attitude, body language, and voice; and then of course there is the psychological shift in an attempt to avoid a disconnect between the superficial and the internal.

Then I saw the students’ faces (as they passed me and my annoying greetings). Some were basically disinterested, which I totally understand. However, others had a big grin when they saw me and offered a really friendly greeting, as if they didn’t mind seeing me again after some time apart; that was a nice feeling! Of course, these are the same reactions that I receive day after day, and I think it more a reflection on the students’ personalities and moods than on what I do. In any case, many kids did seem happy to see me, and that’s a relief!

Let’s see, what’s next… Ah yes, how quickly things return to normal. After some quick friendly exchanges with the other teachers, about the same as after a usual weekend, they moved off with the usual hustle as I sat in my quiet shell amidst the usual bustle of the office. I look around at all these people, who I know to be amicable, but I can’t think of something worth enough consequence to start an enduring conversation. And never has anybody approached me seeking anything more than a quickie. Sigh. Back to that.

Also normal is the fact that we have an assembly (by the way, my tenses are mixed up because I’m presently writing this at work with the intention of posting it past-tense later…) and nobody tells me about it (this is more amusing than annoying), as well as the fact that today, as oft, I am pretty much the only person not wearing a suit. Oh, and I’m the only person with a beard, which quite fascinates some of the students, and most likely bothers some of the teachers.

Let’s see… what else… did I mention that I have to decide whether I’m going to stay a second year or not – by next week!?! I have waffled more than Eggo about this decision. The long and short of it is that I don’t think this job (in its current manifestation) holds nearly enough stimulation to interest and challenge me. I am not the type of person who is capable of sitting on a cushy position, relaxing, and enjoying the doing of nothing. I have tried for the last five months to learn this ability, but it’s just not me. At best, I can do about half ‘n half, work ‘n laze - a low standard which in this job I am yet below!

But, if I were to leave now, I would feel somewhat defeated, like my experience here has been one of drained energies and a bit too much disappointment. I think my brain closed off in frustration, and I don’t think I learned half as much Japanese as I could – with or without hordes of friends with whom to practice. Also, I’ve been lazy, and I’ve yet to see many other places in Japan. Central to my disappointment, I don’t feel like I grew in my job, had a challenge and overcame it. Instead, I was accepted with low expectations and little motivation to exceed them (I just feel like I’m getting in the way when I try!), and I let myself remain in that increasingly apathetic funk.

This is not to say that nothing good has happened. Far from that, I’m really proud of myself for coming over here, and I feel like I have learnt a lot about myself already – mostly about personal limitations that need expanding. I had so many great experiences, hiking, skiing, sightseeing, traveling, and of course just hanging out with friends. And I surely I have learned a lot by being in such a different work environment as well. I have learnt some Japanese, and surely gained some experience of the life and culture here – though progress in both these areas is hard to quantify.

The hope is that I can maintain (/increase) all those worthwhile things, and get rid of this nagging sense of disappointment in myself: feel a slight sense of challenge and improvement in work, learn a bit more of the language, meet more new people here (ie Japanese people), and see some more of this country while I have the fortune to live here.

I am going to request to change schools, perhaps to High School, or ask for more changes of location during the year (I think I’m the only Junior High JET who doesn’t change schools all year).

The risk is that a change of scene for my job won’t improve things and I will become like other disenchanted second-year ALT’s, with piddling interest in their jobs, who seem like they really should have gone home after just one year! The risk is that after two years I will feel like I’ve spent two years stuck in this place, getting nowhere except farther away from the world I used to know (to be slightly melodramatic about it), with no sense of new direction to show for it and, to boot, no identifiable or re-applicable job-skills! Suddenly I’m a 24 year old with no skills and only one job on my resume. Eep.

Also, there’s that girl, and I know she’ll be here for a second year… trying not to let that affect my decision too much.

thailand, in brief

2008-01-10T22:36:00.001+09:00

I'm back.

I successfully navigated my first-ever christmas with not a carol sung, though I did enjoy the fairy lights of Odori park, as well as the dinners and secret santa's with friends. Christmas day was an odd day - it never really felt like the christmas season - because I had to go into work for half a day and give one more class their last speech test for the term! Fortunately, thanks to the time change, I was able to talk to my family as they held their Christmas Eve dinner. The day after Christmas, we left for Thailand.

Thailand was a great time, no doubt. The whole country was rather filthy and littered with debris, buildings mostly rundown looking, all restaurants with kitchens of questionable cleanliness. The toilets were often drop toilets with no toilet paper, and no sink or soap. Of course, we stayed in inexpensive places and purposively avoided the more developed touristy areas. However, other than one mate almost dying from a peanut allergy, nobody got sick and, so far, nobody seems to have acquired malaria.

Ok, those were all the negatives. The temperature was perfect - a delightful 35 degree improvement from dear Sapporo. Bangkok was insanely busy. I was quite intimidated at first, by the hawkers and hookers and peddlers and taxi drivers and beggers and... all of it. The markets are sprawling, packed and endless, and unlike anything at home or here in Japan. On the up side, after a day in the city I felt far more comfortable navigating the streets, and after two I wasn't afraid to haggle and I didn't feel intimidated by the hectic press of the city. The day before we returned home we spent doing a bit of sight seeing around the city, and I realised that I no longer had all the same negative feelings I had toward Bangkok at first. I had fun! (Still, I'm glad we only spent two days there!) Wat Poh Temple in particular was awesome, including the Giant Reclining Buddha (see flkr).

We also went to a quiet villa of resorts in the Kaoh Sok National Park. The people there were unbelievably relaxed and friendly relative to those in the city. We stayed in these cute little bungalows, spent the days walking through the forest and swimming, or tubing down the (somewhat dessicated - ouch, rocks, ouch) river with beer in hand, or hanging out at the chill restaurants enjoying the music, the mood, or the monkeys fornicating across the creek.

The forest included some awesome vegetation, which I suppose you have to be there to enjoy. There was also this crazy huge spider that someone almost walked into, as well as the maggot-like leeches that we all pulled off our skin at some point (Far Right: the leech dance).

After that, we headed down to Koh Phagnon, the island of some fame. We stayed in this incredible bungalow on a hill overlooking a beach. Thans Sadet, our bay, was barely developped and so extremely quiet. We had electricity a couple hours a day, no shower or sink, and we shared the room with giant spiders and hordes of ants. I'm not complaining about all these things - the place was amazing! Best of all was the water. Imagine jumping into lukewarm ocean! Every time I went in, it was hard to come back out. Even when the ocean was choppy as hell (we had some wind and mediocre weather) and the day grey, we played in the surf and were reluctant to emerge.

(There are cats and dogs and roosters all over the place ).

Also incredible was the food. I don't have pictures of all the dishes we enjoyed - because that would be stupid, and because my friends already snapped at me for taking too many photos! Massaman (sweet red curry) was possibly my favourite. (But the green curry was delicious too, and the yellow curry not half bad). The pat thai, fried noodles and vegetables was always tastey. The prawns were always tastey. I got myself addicted to fruit shakes and I think collectively we got addicted to the banana pancakes. As an example of our lethargy, one fond memory witnesses us enjoying a smorgusboard of options at one restuarant before walking to the end of the bluff to enjoy a smorgusboard of deserts at another restuarant. Of an inconceivable deliciousness to price ratio, the food kept coming and the booze kept flowing the whole trip, and I don't know how we didn't all gain ten pounds.

Here is a random monk we met in the forest on the way to an ancient inscription. He gave us some tea, teachings, and led us in an hour long meditation-walk.

We went to the famous New Year's Party at Hat Ryn (don't trust my spelling, as a general principal), where all the Full Moon Parties are. There was lots of drinking, probably lots of drugs, general debauchery, scum of the earth kinda feeling at times. But dancing with friends on the beach till the wee hours and ringing the new year with thousands of partiers did have a bit of flare to it. I didn't take my camera, for obvious safety reasons and to prevent any incriminating evidence.

This post (as always) presents a family friendly, entirely PG recount of my doings. I am fairly morally upright, so it's not that I'm hiding a dark underside, or anything like that. But surely you can't be a youth living abroad without, you know... well, nevermind. Suffice it to say, over the whole trip, a good time was had by all, and nobody was arrested for anything they may or may not have done that they possibly, sort of maybe technically should not have done.

I can't sum up the whole trip, not even close. It was my first time in Southeast Asia, first time in a less developed country (to use a vague and loaded term). I realised that I have no idea what most of the world is like. Maybe Thailand is Asia and Japan is Asia, but they seem to have next to nothing to do with eachother. The people in Thailand are almost the opposite of Japan, often jumping on you forcefully (in the city at least) and making you work for any respect they might give you, whereas in Japan, ultra politeness and a huge smile are prereqs for any greeting (not that this means they are more genuine). Even the more relaxed people in the smaller places like Thans Sadet didn't just automatically greet you with smiles and easy friendliness; they seemed slightly more guarded. It took some convincing before we earned bigger smiles, deeper friendliness and any real connections with people. A lot of tourists do filter through, so maybe that guardedness is a feature of other tourist destinations as well. Don't know!

The pace of life, the people, the values of what is necessary and what is not - all so very different from what I'm used to. As I said, debris, dirt, and ramshackle houses seemed tolerated; as long as people had the basics, walls and a roof, they were happy. Yet, time, food, and financial opportunity seemed abundant, so it seems that different values, rather than (say) poverty, were the cause of this. That's a wholly inadequate and inconclusive stream of thoughts there, sorry.

As well as having a really relaxing time, I realise that, Man, there is a lot more world to see, and a lot more eye opening that has to happen for me.

I definitely have to go back to Thailand some day, and do way more sightseeing, fun activites, and less lazing about. I understand a little bit better now the way travel and accomodation and spending work there, so hopefully I'd be well prepared for a second trip.

One more full day's travel brought us home to Sapporo. The first night home, it was -13* celcius, compared with 33* in Bangkok. More of a shock was returning to the pace and people of this world, so very different. I've yet to return to my school, and I am a bit nervous to do so. I feel distant, disconnected from my livelihood (if not life altogether) here, even though it was that job that let me splurge on a whim and take the trip to Thailand. I have to decide very, very soon whether I wish to recontract and stay in Japan for a second year. Though I didn't make any new years resolutions, I hope to make that decision and live generally without too much moaning, pondering, obsessiveness (etc). We'll see.

attack of the munchkins: elementary school visits

2007-12-23T11:05:00.000+09:00

I spent last week goofing with manchickens at elementary schools. It was delightful.

At the first school I had a chaperon assigned to me, who spent the entire two days not five feet away from me. He led me into every room, sat me down for coffee breaks (repeatedly grabbing me coffees because I told him I'm a big coffee drinker), and even walked me to the toilet when he felt it was in order (and basically waited outside the door for me)! He was an incredibly kind man, and I felt so spoiled by the teachers and kids at this school (I didn't think too much about the fact that, partially, they were scared as heck of what a crazy foreigner might do at any moment).

I walked into my first class not really sure what I was going to say about myself, but my limited Canada memorabilia provided a smooth flowing introduction that the kids were able to understand without needing any translation.

I showed them the flag, sang a bit of "Oh Canada" in response to their singing "KimiGaYo", told them about my favourite sports and my hobby - very unpracticed juggling. I was quite chuffed that I every time I showed them the picture of Vancouver a round of 'oo' and 'aa' emerged.

After my introduction (which varied in complexity for each grade), each class consisted of an english vocabulary game as well as some general mucking around games - head and shoulders, simon says, hockey pockey, basketball-basketball-cake (a variation on Duck-Duck-Goose). I haven't stood up in front of a group of little children since being a counsellor at Outdoor School in highschool. It comes to you pretty naturally though, when the kids are so well behaved and staring up expectantly for whatever it is you might do next. They were pretty enthralled, AND i didn't make anybody cry, so I think it was a big success.

Each class had a song or dance to thank me with. I've never actually enjoyed a recorder performance before! One class did this cool Japanese dance which looked a mix between traditional dance and modern aerobic workout. It was awesome, and I didn't have to try to keep the grin plastered on my face.

There are so many little memories from these four days that I couldn't capture them all. The first day at the second school I got totally beat up at recess. The kids were expert snowball throwers and, once I was down, made a massive dogpile on top of me. Other fun games included tag and dodgeball in the school gym. Oh, and reading a children's story (I"ll Always Love You) to a group of tiny and adorable ichinensei (first graders). They had read a direct translation in Japanese already, and it was such a cool feeling to watch their faces light up as they understood my reading through the pictures and their previous preparation. Also cool was getting walked to the subway station by a group of kids, thrilled to show off their knowledge of the neighbourhood. This will probably be the only time in my life where I have throngs of people (or mini-people) asking for my autograph. The kids are fascinated by the way we write (just as kanji fascinates us), though I don't think my signature is anything special. Basically every moment held a good memory!

Most of the teachers were visibly on edge the entire time I was in class, scared that they would have to come in with their unconfidant english skills, or just scared that I would do something crazy. Nonetheless, together we managed to mash each class out and I don't think I did anything too crazy.

Needless to say, I had an amazing time and I really hope to get the chance to go again next year. I should also mention, however, that every single day was exhausting to a G. I got off a little bit early each day and the use to which I put this extra time was going straight home and passing out for an hour or two, dead to the world. By the last day, Thursday, I was pretty beat to begin with, and we had managed to squeeze a couple extra hours of interaction into my schedule, so by the end of the 8 hour day I was pretty much a dead man walking (though still grinning!). As I expected, my voice started to go Thursday afternoon. My throat started to get sore Friday morning. My sinuses started to plug Friday afternoon. Friday afternoon it took a whole pot of coffee to keep me awake for the bonenkai, my junior elemntary school's year-end party. By Saturday evening my head was no longer attached to my body.

I figured I would catch something from the combination of exhaustion, constant touching (face included) by the kids, and the new germs of new schools in different neighbourhoods.

It's ok. It was worth it!

(As long as I'm healthy by the time we leave for Thailand!)

blast of positives

2007-12-16T21:11:00.000+09:00

Some random postives:

Last week a small group of teachers had a nomikai (two-hour drink + eat party) which I was very glad to be invited to. I was relaxed and chatty right off the bat, using whatever grammar forms I'd picked up most recently in Japanese class. I wasn't the centre of attention, nor was I just a novelty of foreigness (as I most definitely have been previously), but we did chat pleasantly. It was nice that they were comfortable to chat without worrying about me, but also happy to occasionally slow down to include me (with the help of the English teachers). By the end of the night (and the bottom of the keg) we were all joking and laughing together, and I only declind the nijikai (second party) because I had agreed to go meet friends. Basically, I think the Japanese have the right idea about drinking parties being an essential part of work-group cohesion, because so far that's when I've fit in most. Eating (and drinking) is one thing I do know how to do.

I had an awesome moment at work the other day. It was the end of the day and I had to take off to go to a meeting, but I was making my rounds of the hallway to say goodbye. I sat down with the boys' baseball club on the floor and chatted with a couple members. They do a workout in the hallway, so that was an easy conversation starter. We exchanged some vocab on push-ups and crunches and abs, etc (none of which I can remember), and then started talking about other random stuff - like the fact that snowmen here have only two sections, as opposed to the classic three-ball snow-man that I was familiar with. Suddenly I looked around and realised that the entire club was sitting in a circle around us, listening to the conversation and chipping in when possible. I tried to ignore the increased pressure to act up or clown around, and tried to just keep a conversation going. Although there was an arm wrestle or two, mostly we just sat on the cold floor of the hallway and talked - with no compulsion for any of them to listen, let alone all twenty or so. I'm not saying I take it as a compliment, or anything like that. I'm just saying it felt great to connect with them in such a relaxed and communicative way.

Due to a miscommuncation error, I am now spending the next four days at two elementary schools! I have wanted a change of pace, and I really wanted to see the crazy adorable kids that I've heard so much about. I am nervous, no question. I've realised I really don't have much to say about myself or my country, or many games to bring to the table myself - but that's a whole new line of thought I've yet to explore. I'm counting on my strangeness to generate their excitement which will keep the momentum of the class. Indeed, every friend who has gone to elementary school has assured me this is the case. I kinda banged my knee up skiing today, so I hope I can keep up with the little man-chickens!

Oh yeah, I went skiing again today!!! Man, oh man, was that snow amazing. There was about 115 centimetres of snow up the mountain, most of which felt like fresh powder. I actually couldn't control myself worth a damn in the bumps and crazy soft snow, but the feeling of flowing through that powder was still incredible, and I didn't mind the spectacular twisting and flailing crashes into the banks of cushioning snow. As I gained speed and lost control on a too-steep moderate run, I managed to get some air off two bumps, thus increasing my skill set to failing, falling, and occasional jumping.We went to Kiroro, the same place as last weekend, and so enjoyed another soothing onsen at the end of the day. The 1.5 hour bus ride out of the city provides a nice somniatic liminal transition to the fantasy world of snow and ski. It's only slightly hard to have to face reality again afterward.

Next Friday is my last scheduled day of work this term, though there will be some pseudo-work days the following week as well, and Christmas itself isn't actually a scheduled holiday. We're supposed to go into the office and sit and do nothing all day! The elementary schools should be incredibly entertaining and exhausting, so I should have a content conclusion to the school term, before shifting into holiday mode. Less than a week later, after all, we're off to Thailand for two weeks of sun and hopefully adventure.

I just found out a friend will be coming to stay and enjoy the Snow Festival in February. One more motivated JET actually secured us a spot in the festival, so a group of us ALT's will be part of the huge show, for better or worse sticking our names on a carving we have to somehow create. The festival draws tons of people from all over the country, all cramming into our little city (three cramming into my little apartment). Should be a good time.

relaxed drive to learn

2007-12-16T20:44:00.000+09:00

As I slowly sense some improvement in my Japanese abilities, I am somewhat lacking in motivation to continue learning (I'm writing in a good mood, so this won't be too self-deprecating or pessimistic).

Of all the many great ALT's in Sapporo, I have a few close enough friends to satisfy my needs for companionship; and the group as the whole provides enough of a social network to make me feel connected (to provide a party or dinner on the weekend whenever desired). I tend to have a couple friends who I stick to a lot, and I'm not so good at being part of a 'crew', but being here has let me work on both a bit.
As a result, I'm not desperate to make new friends. Rather, I'm lazy and take the easy route through my native language to friendship. A little bit of loneliness would be a good motivator to make new friends!

In terms of functioning here, well, I've already survived four and a half months with no major mishaps. I've settled into a comfortable apathy a lot of the time at work, with enough small-exchanges with coworkers to show that they are accepting of my contracted existence.

When I have to interact with people who don't speak much English, they are usually understanding about the lack of communcation, and we get by with a mix of the two languages and much flailing of the arms and face. As friend Alice points out, you don't need the language to connect with someone, you just need the intention and willingness, a little bit of personality, and, of course, the flailing. Also random conversations with people tend to start up because they are happy to practice their English, not because they want to see if you can speak Japanese.

So, it's hard to pinpoint any external motivator for learning Japanese. The internal motivators are the enjoyment I get from the sense of learning, the interesting nature of Japanese, and the kick I do get out of talking to people in tidbits of nihongo.

Over all, I've relaxed a little bit about the whole thing. I've realised that the learning isn't something I can force upon myself, or guilt myself into. It's not a chore for me to do here - at least, I haven't committed myself enough to it to make it a firm accomplishment I need to acheive.

Instead, I have started to accept more that it is the being here and being happy that are important, and if I commit to being here - instead of focussing on life back home, or life after, or things that take my mind away from this place and this life - then I will learn as I go, and have no reason not to be pleased with my time here.

job description

2007-12-12T17:25:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Subtle status hierarchy. Upon entering the school, students remove their shoes and place them in shelves of cubby holes in the entrance room. A teacher stands outside this room greeting students as they enter the school proper. After the bell, the teacher walks among the shelves and makes sure that all the shoes are facing the back of the cubby (cause it's rude to point your shoes at people) and are not sticking out too much or sitting messily. This is a testament to the importance of appearance surrounding entering people's homes or buildings.

Also, I've just realised that the person who most often volunteers for this duty is the teacher with the lowest status/seniority. Previously, this was a young teacher with a temporary position at the school. Now, a returning teacher, fresh off maternity leave, who has not spent much time at the school takes the post more often than any other. I don't think this is imposed upon her externally, nor do I expect it will last more than a few weeks or a month, until she has slightly solidified her position.

"I wish I could give the students more time to talk to you, but we can't." - JTE to ALT, the closest I've heard any of the teachers at my school come to commenting on the education system or my role here.

I understand her comment. The teachers have to teach a very specific grammar and textbook based curriculum, and they must teach it in its entirety. The students will write a standardized test taken directly from that curriculum, so any deviation from that course will actually harm the students' performance. A test at the end of junior highschool determines students' eligibility and placement for high school. This test is said to be the single most important test in life, since choice of highschool supposedly has a huge and lasting effect on reputation and employability. What this means is that learning the textbook is more important than practicing conversations with a native English speaker who happens to be in the school at that very moment. Hence, the central contradiction of my position. The government pays for me to be here but enforces a curriculum prohibitively strict and dense enough to limit my use. That's why I said my most useful time is simply wandering in the hallways, attempting to stimulate natural conversation with the students. Briefly, hopefully, this strange thing forced upon the students by their teachers becomes a fun and active and real tool.

I don't mean to disparage the grammatical focus (as opposed to a more conversational approach). In fact, I struggle with the thought that I'm not able to teach the kids in the hall much new information - perhaps a word or two here or there. It's hard to pick up language that will stick in the memory just from casual conversations like that. The grammar needs to be taught, usually in the learner's natural language. So, our conversations are more a reinforcing of speech patterns they've already learned than an attempt to expand their competence. We rely on the grammar taught in class, through which they find their only means of understanding me. Their vocabulary needs fleshing out, but the grammar does provide a frame, without which we would at best exchange one or two word spurts of communication. So, not so much as teaching English, my role here is more to be there to show it is worthwhile for the students to learn the English that their senseis have been trying to teach them.

So, (it feels, perhaps overly pessimistically) I'm here not to create or originate knowledge, but to initiate conversation and instill a sense of purpose to learning the knowledge taught by others. I do this by means of existing.

Self-Discovery: I don't like too easy a job. I don't necessarily need a job to pour my whole identity into, and I definitely don't want a job that I have to take home with me every day. However, I do want a job where I am leaving at the end of each day happy with what I have accomplished.

Job Description:

Average 2.5 classes/day.
-With breaks and classes and lunch, maybe 4.5 hours/day spent with or around the kids (on a good day).
-3-4 hours/day with no expectations, no tasks, no smallwork (thankfuly), but also no real reason for you to be there.
Activities:
-Please come to class and speak on command.
-Please roam the halls and strike up random conversation.
-that's all

clearly I like the outdoors

2007-12-11T19:47:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Public baths. I love 'em. Sento are local public baths in the middle of the neighbourhood. Onsen are usually a bit more touristy, often drawing from hot springs and using mineral water with supposed health benefits. Rotemburo are outdoor baths, ideally with a clear view of a lake or a mountain or some gloried scene of nature to absorb your mind as the water absorbs your weariness. I think I've said before, but men and women are separated in the far majority of baths. Oh, and you don't actually bathe in the bath with everybody else. There is a row of low stools and shower heads on one side of the big room, where you soap up and clean yourself off before getting in the water. Maybe it seems odd, the idea of lathering and scrubbing with your naked neighbour only a foot away, and then sitting around in the water shoulder to shoulder, fully exposed. But you get over that after about five minutes. Already I can't imagine why any society wouldn't have them. Aside from the relaxing qualities, getting naked with a bunch of other people some how goes a long way toward making you more comfortable with your body. After all, every body is funny looking. And it even helps strengthen relationships, removing one more barrier (meaning the pyschological defence that clothing provides) between two friends or family members. I thoroughly enjoyed the skinship onsen bonding with my father when he was here visiting me.

Sunday evening I had one of the most content moments in my life.

Sadly I have no pictures; I think I'll have to buy a compact digital camera after all my wishwashing. Though visibility was a bit low, suffice it to say that the sight of so much snow and the massive course-covered mountain set my eyes aglow all day.

Sure, it was a little bit hard to get up at 6am on a Sunday to be on a bus out of the city by 8. But that meant we arrived at Kiroro Ski Mountain at 930am, with the whole day before us to play. Over the last few weeks, I have been amassing a collection of recycle shop treasures, the last of which I acquired the night before: by Sunday I had every piece of gear required, including $10 skis. I emerged from the change room an ugly mix of old and new, orange and red and black and blue - and caring very little about my appearance whatsoever. I was nervous and extremely excited to hit the slopes for just the second time in my life. When I told a Japanese person this, they asked me, "Are you a real Canadian?"

The bunny slope only seemed like a giant hill for about ten minutes, and I only fell on my butt once. We skiied all day, all the 'green' runs - maybe even a 'red' run or two (sure as hell no 'black' runs). There was plenty to keep me entertained, even though there were quite a few runs not even open yet. My ad hoc outfit held up all day, and my ten or so year old skiis (according to ski-bud Alice) still functioned enough to slip me down the slope. I even managed to get some air off a jump. So, basically I'm achieving things all my friends did about 10 to 15 years ago. That's ok, in this and many other things I know I still have lots of catching up and growing up to do.

For example, I never went through a punkish teenager phase, so maybe it's not surprising that for about two weeks there I was enjoying the Japanese punk rock/pop recommended to me by my 15 year old students. Someday I hope not to feel like a lame 65 year old nor limited 12 year old trapped in this body of mine. Maybe by the time I'm 30 I'll feel 22.

Another highlight was when we found a short section deep in untouched powder. Gliding through that powder provided me with a sensation never felt before, and for the first time I began to sense how people can fall in love with frozen water.

Lunch excepted we skiied all day until 4pm. Already absolutely content with the day, this is where the bliss comes in. Our skiing package included use of the resort's onsen. The rotemburo was deliciously hot compared to the freezing cold air and through the falling snow provided a vista of the ski range. I soaked my satisfied muscles in the soothing waters and let my mind soar, completely and utterly content.

Still on cloud nine, I was not phased in the least when I got back to my apartment door in the city, and realized that I had left my jacket - cell phone and house keys included - way back at the mountain.

It was no problem to climb the balcony to let myself in: I felt weightless anyways.

slight hodepodge of thoughts

2007-12-02T23:58:00.000+09:00

Randomatta 1: Tobacco oozes from my pores, and I don't even smoke! Problem is, smoking is allowed in all restaurants and bars, so even if you just go grab a quick cup of coffee, you get a nicotine fix to go with the shot of caffeine. I've been spoiled by Vancouver's fresh air/anti-freedom initiatives over the last few years that have relegated smoking to fewer and fewer public places, so that eventually it seems the only place left will be your john at home. I don't mind smoke or smokers all that much, in fact I'm sure I knew a nice smoker once, and I do feel a little bit bad for them in that the government of British Columbia is telling them how to live their life. On the other hand, I don't enjoy the desire to burn my clothes and scrape off a layer of skin every time I go out somewhere. Two places that stand out in my mind as particularly displeasing are: the changing room of a sento (public bath) and small, closed in karaoke rooms. After feeling relaxed and clean from the bath, some people are apparently eager to reapply the familiar coating stench. When enjoying a night of singing, apparently some people are eager to burn their lungs and vocal chords to crap. I don't mean to sound bitter - I swear I have nothing against smokers - it's just that I stink and my clothes stink and now my house even stinks a bit. It's almost enough to make me take up smoking, just so I don't notice the smell any more.

Randomata 2: Did I mention the importance of 'rock-paper-scissors' here? It's called jan-ken (spelling?), and school kids and young adults use it to solve nearly any dispute or make any group decision, or just for fun. It's quite a sight to see most of a classroom stand in a circle and play in one big group game, everybody showing at the same time, losers ducking out faster than I can keep track of, people reloading before I've even seen their hand, as small pairs of people do mini-battles to figure out rankings and what not. They play with lightning speed, and all decisions are final.

I don't think I talked about dinner at _____-sensei's house? He had a beautiful house and a beautiful family to fill it, two kids and a wife. I played with the kids for three or four hours, sort of trading my energy and English for the incredible dinner his wife made. I don't know if she always cooks that well, but if so, then I understand how Japanese marriages last despite workaholics' hardly being at home. The strange thing about the night was being treated as the guest of honor, expected to enter first, gift first, sit in the lounge first, sit at the head of the table, asked again and again if the food was good enough, thanked for my playing with the kids as if it was a gift I was giving. I was very honoured to be invited at all, but I wish I could have switched spots with one of the other teachers who came - I didn't deserve it at all! (P.S. I hope it's ok to have the picture up... as long as no names are attached... By the way, allllll Japanese kids are incredibly adorable.)

Don't think I talked about a little trip down to Kutchan near Niseko (bout 2hr train southwest of Sapporo) to visit friend Ali and see her nice little town.

Beside the fun party she threw, generally good company, and finding ten dollar skies, a definite highlight was getting a peak at Mt Yotei, Fuji of the North, which dominates the skyline.

I went to another Consadole's soccer game with a few friends, through means of tickets kindly given to me by my Vice Principal! It was an important game with only two left in the season. You'll notice the sea of red in the background. Most people have paraphenalia and jersey's with the number 12 on the back - the official Fan number, which emphasizes that the team depends on its supporters to strive together toward victory.

Here, the fans hold cards to mimic the stripes of a jersey, further enhancing the sense that everybody is part of the team. It was a game with perhaps too much interference by the referee, including two penalty shot goals. Sapporo had the lead until the last minute, when the opponents equalized. Luckily, the next game, the last of the season, Sapporo won and so next year will move up a division to the J1 league, the top soccer league in the country.

What else have I not noted in terms of diary keeping?

Held another fantasy writer's group at my apartment today. I can't write particularly well, but I've always been fascinated with it, so it is good to have some external motivation to work on it a little bit here and there. I sometimes wonder why I am in a writer's group here when I wasn't in one at home, and neither does it help me to learn about this new place I'm in (insofar as the writer's group is composed of gai-jin writing stories that have nothing to do with Japan).

Growing in my mind is the realisation that simply being here doesn't offer a new 'Me' to live with. I've got a lot of the same interests as back home (and flaws), and a lot of the personal growth that happens here won't be of a particularly "Japanese" character, it will just be growth, period. So, it is still personally rewarding to practice writing, even if it's not in Japanese or about Japan - though it would be nice to be able to write SOMEthing in Japanese...

Likewise, it was very fun to play some Futsal (indoor soccer) last week, even though there's nothing specifically 'Japanese' about Futsal or the way I played it. But, after playing soccer the least I ever have in the last half year of my life, it was awweeeeesssooommmeeeee!!!! I don't seem too sluggish on the ball yet, so that's a relief!

I am seeking more specifically 'Japanese' knowledge and experiences, meaning high/traditional cultural experiences like art or theatre. For example, I just bought a couple books on Japanese fairy tales and stories, because many of the myths that raised this nation have a different history from the myths that I know.

Yet, the truth is every day life here is modernized and globalized, at a glance sharing much with life back home. So, in that, the differences may be more specific, like the way people greet each other, or how much they play jan-ken. And, partly, I think the similarities in life - like working a 9-5 - cover up the fact that the way people live that life here, and what components of it mean to them, is different in many ways. Learning the similarities and differences in how people here think about life will take a long time.

cold observations

2007-11-25T21:31:00.000+09:00

Randomata 1: A couple weekends ago, I mentioned a hike where the top of the mountain was swallowed by thick clouds, harsh wind and the first snow of the year. I didn't mention a strange part of that experience. At the top of the hike, a man was sitting on the ground, with his sweater stretched down and his arms around his bent legs. He was unsuccessfully attempting to start a fire with some pages torn out of a book he was holding. He was shivering. My friend and I had a quick snack, both quite confused about this man's behaviour, and prepared to head back down. But first we tried talking to the man, offering him some food, asking if he was all right, asking if he wanted to come back down with us. He was fine, he said. He didn't need anything, he said. Over all, he was extremely underprepared for the conditions. Yet, we could see that he had a toque and winter gloves, but for some reason he wasn't wearing them. Something seemed wrong about the whole thing. Unsure what to do, after repeated dismissals, my friend and I left. We asked another group who had seen him if they could call the authorities and explain the strange situation. Our biggest concern was that this man was attempting to hurt himself by staying in the cold, or worse, once he was alone, planning to kill himself. We couldn't stay any longer though, because the cold was already seeping into us.
Last year in Japan, according to a newspaper article in the Japan Times, suicide was the leading cause of death for people aged 20 to 39. A staggering 32,155 people killed themselves in Japan last year. Suicide has a long and powerful history in the country, with an ongoing resonance in modern culture. Hanging is the most common form of suicide, but jumping from high places is also among the leading methods. One friend told me that she lives near the cliff in Hokkaido where people might go for a dramatic suicide.
I don't know what happened to that man on the mountain. Perhaps a bit of discomfort and cold were helping him clear his thoughts in some way. Perhaps he came down after another ten minutes or so (though no car awaited him in the parking lot). Our fear was not entirely groundless, even though I hope it was unwarranted in this case.

Because I don't want to follow those thoughts with the trivial happenings of my day, I'll offer another observation instead.

Randomata 2: It's Friday night, 930pm, and you're heading out for the night. It's -3.5 celcius. On the way to the subway station, you hear the familiar clanging of hammers, and realise that the crew is still hard at work in that new apartment they are building. The building is completely enclosed by scaffolding and shrouded in a green netting, as all building construction sites seem to be, perhaps in order to prevent half-completed work from being witnessed by passersby. The shroud certainly adds no warmth, though, and the men must be feeling the biting cold, somewhere near the end of a ten hour shift. On top of that, it is a Friday night, almost 10pm now - you'd think they could call it a night early, maybe just once a week.

It's 3am, and you're leaving the bar to head home (earlier than most of the partiers). You hear a muffled jarring: the sound of concrete being broken up. Then you see the flood lights and cones redirecting traffic and the ubiquitous traffic control baton-weilders, as you walk by blocks of road repaving or tunnel construction. It's -5 celcius, there's a layer of snow, and it's 3am on a Friday night/Saturday morning. They will work from the evening and into the night - all night. That way, they minimize traffic disruption during the day, as they attempt to finish the job as fast as possible. You just wish they could have a night off, maybe just once a week.

better mood to exist in

2007-11-22T23:13:00.000+09:00

Randomata: In my schoolyears, when students misbehaved, the teacher either pulled them aside or pulled the ominous 'see me after class' half-threat. Problems and misbehaviour were an individual's secret, essentially. The other day, at the start of a class, the teacher called the class to attention and in a stern voice spoke the name of five students, who stood up at their desks. (I had no idea what was going on.) She proceeded to dish out a calm but ferocious tongue-lashing. The five were clearly abashed, but the rest of the class sat attentively and seemed to recoil slightly, as if partly receiving the reprimand. At the teacher's command, each of the five had to say something to the entire class, and then proceed to apologize (one by one, and then all together) to one student who they had been mistreating between classes. Then they had to apologize to the whole class. An individual misdeed, not even committed in class, was brought into the open and made an issue for the entire class to think about and resolve. It seems a far more overt way to treat misbehaviour and a far more inclusive solution than I saw growing up on the other side of the world.

So this week was a little better than last. On Sunday night I decided I would make another effortful week. I suggested a warm-up that didn't go particularly well; I made some worksheets without being asked, none of which were particularly helpful; I found a relevant newspaper article and made a summary and photocopies for the student's interest, which nobody seemed too keen on. None of the middling successes got me down though. I could tell myself that I put an effort in, so I didn't feel like any uselessness was my own fault.

I put longer hours in this week, again not that I was asked. I found something too look forward to every day in the form of the table tennis club (one thing that gives me a sense of improvement every day). I made appearances at the English club without worrying about invitations, but I only stayed as long as I could, and I left without feeling bad. I relaxed way more with the students, didn't worry about speaking a little more Japanese with them, made more of a fool of myself with them, joking around, playing some ridiculous piano in front of them - all to good effect. When teachers came to one class to watch our team teaching method, I didn't give one thought to them or what they thought. I went to the discussion meetings about all the observed classes, and made a contributing comment, even though I had no idea what everybody else was saying. I stayed late for the closing discussion, even though that made it three straight hours of a stream of Japanese I couldn't discern. Every day this week I spent between four and seven hours either teaching or just hanging out with students, however slightly productive that time might have been for them. After all the meetings today, I made a circuit of the office and said goodbye to more teachers, since I was heading home on a holiday long weekend. I held the door open for one of the teachers who usually won't even look me in the eye in the hallway, said goodnight, and got a friendly farewell in return.

I don't know if the teachers or students noticed any difference this week. Like I said, some of my targeted, more academic efforts kinda fell flat. But it didn't matter. I had more time with the students, and I feel like I connected with them a little bit better than the week before. I was more relaxed with the teachers, and had a better time whenever I chatted with somebody. I put a bit more (but not TOO much) time and effort in, and I felt better about myself for it. Overall, it still is just an ongoing matter of accepting that I get paid to exist, which is surprisingly hard to accept considering how many times I wished for it before this job. Maybe I do simply have to exist, but their are many different ways of simply existing.

(Other considerations: I got 34 hours of sleep over last Fri-Sun. I feel less sick. I've been taking some vitamins. I saw friends. It's snowing. Who knows what really accounts for our good moods.)

first snow and a slow start

2007-11-20T22:59:00.000+09:00

Randomata: In Japanese, adjectives conjugate!! Or inflect, or whatever it's called when they have different endings for tense and positive/negative. At least, a certain category of adjectives inflect. There are two overall categories, 'i' adjectives and 'na' adjectives. 'i' adjectives are made negative by dropping the final 'i' and adding kunai; 'na' adjectives are made negative by changing the copula (ie 'desu') to its negative, 'dewa arimasen/ja nai'. After 'na' adjectives and before a noun you insert 'na,' but not when the adjective is immediatly before a copula like 'desu'. Right. It's all coming together. ('uso' is Japanese for 'lie').

As the temperature dropped to about -5 last night, I gave up trying to make my heaters turn on and crawled into my futon around 12:30. There was a slight frost outside, perhaps the hint of snow already fallen.
After snoozing two alarm clocks on asyncopated 5 and 7 minute snooze cycles for an hour, I woke up with a muted gasp and slowly jumped out of futon. I dozily ran around, tossing my lunch and misc into my bag, scarfed down two toast 'n jams, yanked pants and shirt up and down respectively and ran out the door.
Of course, it was like a blizzard outside with a couple inches of snow covering every surface and more gusting down in the still -5 winds (or so they felt to my exposed face). I realised, with this first strong hint of the winter to come, that I was unprepared.
I quickly donned another sweater, toque and gloves and a rainjacket. The road was slippery but there was hope if I hurried; I could still make it to work on time!
At Odori station where I change trains, the platform was already full, with a constant stream of commuters continuing to cram in. Two subs going the wrong way came and went. The lines going my way grew. As a third wrongway train pulled to a stop, finally one came my way. There was subdued mayhem as hundreds of people from both trains let out onto the already crammed platform, everybody milling around pathetically like the people in those ridiculous jumpsuits on that overpopulated planet in that episode of Star Trek whose name eludes me.
As the train depleted, people hurriedly waddled into the empty car. The mob pressed people further and further into the car, until their faces squished up against the glass opposite. I was driven toward the doors from behind, but I basically had to move my nose out of the way of the closing doors as the train departed without the rest of us.
The next train was equally packed - except (of course) the courtesy seats, which remained empty despite the people threatening to fall into them because of the press, but refusing to because of the taboo.

Unsurprisingly I missed my bus, and the next wasn't for another half hour. I was fairly excited about the snow, so I didn't mind walking the 15 or 20 to my school.
I stepped outside into hellcold wind and rain blowing down from the sky and slurpeecold slush splashing up from the street. Ice and slush made every step slower, so the pleasant jaunt was extended to a half hour of fearing death, though laughing at myself the whole time. The cars driving by sent a steady spew of slush up onto the sidewalk, sufficiently soaking any parts of my lower half that might have otherwise stayed dry.
So I was a little late getting to work, and I was too wet to actually go upstairs to the office. No problem. I changed into my gym shorts and proceeded to try and dry my pants with a hairdryer. After ten minutes, I'm sure several molecules of water evaporated, but the effect was less than miraculous.
After jogging to the office half-dressed and soaking wet, I enlisted the aid of friendly coworkers. I borrowed some clothing, tossed my stuff in a random clothes drier, and sipped some ocha to warm up.
By the time next period started, I was dressed and ready for class, mostly dry.

seniors, subways, unacceptable settling

2007-11-16T18:51:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Did I mention that subways are the senior's sacred domain? Seniors basically own the subway train, in terms of their right to stare, glare or (in equal measure) smile at you. They also have right of way: no matter how far to the side of the aisle you stand, or how fast you board or disembark, they have shoving perogative at all times. If you are on your cell phone, beware a sneer, a "Dame!" ('it's forbidden!'), or even a tap on the arm from a sharp-eyed senior prowling the car. And you wouldn't even think of sitting in the Priority Seats, that distinct, blue section of bench that remains empty even on two-hour train rides out of the city, unless occupied by a rightful rump. I'm not complaining - far from it! I'm thankful that, together with the Politeness Police (transit officers who roam the transit system), seniors ensure the subways remain quiet, and free from the incessant chatter of unaccountably loud and always overly personal cell-phone conversations. I'm kinda like an old person myself, in that regard.

The quotidian without pretense of progress is painfully pointless.

I'll be honest, I've been a bit down. (This post is probably overly personal, but at least I'm not shouting it in your ear in transit somewhere.)

That's why I haven't written regularly over the past two weeks: I've been living with my eyes half-open. I've been low on energy and settling. Settling: it's no good.

What I mean by 'settling' is that, in my dampened mood, I've been accepting my life exactly as it is right now, without focussing on what I want to focus on more in the day to day, without focussing on the areas that I want to develop.

For example, I've felt somewhat aimless and hopeless about the whole learning Japanese thing. Let me run through a negative rationalization of ignorance in that regard.

1. I'm already surviving with whatever limited abilities I have.
2. I don't talk to that many Japanese people, and how many Japanese friends am I going to make anyway?
3. I'm here to teach English, and most people here are eager to practice their English.
4. What do I need Japanese for after I leave this place?

So, you see, there's no point in learning Japanese.

And it is easy for this viral negativity to affect my greater perception. Now I am accustomed to my neighbourhood. I know where to get my groceries. I can cook the same foods week after week, eating out to spice it up. I have that ready-made network of ALT's to turn to for social contact. I can get to and from work in a half-conscious state just like the rest of the commuters, just like I could back home. I can enter this routine and basically let the next 40 years of my life go by until it's time to retire.

AH!!!! What's the point in moving to a new place? If there's nothing to learn at home and I don't care to learn here... (and the thoughts spiral downward)... What's the point in living?

Ok, so I'm exaggerating my own negativity just to convey its nature. The point is - as demonstrated by the lack of things to say in blogpost, and the lack of things to photograph, and the lack of things to thrill my eyes and ears - I've been settling.

I think, and this is why all this might interest others if they ever read this post, that my mood and that settling is an unsurprising product of my circumstances. Now that the thrill/fear of moving to a new and uknown place has worn off, one must start 'settling' into regularity. I am no longer on the move somewhere new: I'm there, and it's getting un-new. People in my position might deal with this fact in different (hopefully positive) ways, but it's the reality of being human: we quickly learn enough to survive in a new situation. This leads to the crossroads of settling, accepting mediocrity and the mundane, or striving for something more.

What am I suggesting? That I have to move somewhere new every three months to keep life interesting? Not exactly - hopefully that's not necessary.

What's sad about dull acceptance is that there is still so much to see, to learn, to explore, to develop - in short to interest and excite - in the context that immediatly surrounds me. I don't have to run off just yet, there's more to do here. I have miles to go before I am a productive contributor in the school environment. To be honest, the fact that I am not essential at work quickly drains me of spirit. When I'm in a good mood, I know that the simple presence of a native English speaker has a huge effect in the school. In a bad mood, I know I could not show up on any given day and it would hardly affect the lessons any of the teachers give. And the only thing worse than doing a fairly straightforward 9-5 is feeling like you make no difference to the people around you in those hours. I should take this as a challenge, though, and not just let it bring me down. Even if I don't want to be a teacher for 40 years, there is so much I can gain from my experience here, and hopefully a lot I can bring to help the people around me while I am here. I don't feel like I'm as big a waste of space as my existence at work seems to indicate.

And then there's that whole language thing. Learning a new language is fascinating. I love it, and so I should, even if I can't pinpoint a more ultimate motivator for that learning. The proximate motivators and rewards are huge and clearly evident every time I try talking to someone in Japanese. Whether we end up laughing at my mistakes or they understand me and respond, it's a huge thrill. When I feel like I am actually getting to know someone, and (fate willing) start to make friends here, the thrill and personal reward is only greater.
Someday I'll know enough Japanese so that all that regular conversation is, well, regular, and then I'll have to choose my direction at the crossroads of bored acceptance and challenging myself with something new. But certainly I am far from that point. How could I even THINK of not trying to learn some Japanese while I'm here? Thoughts like that are a lame acceptance of mediocrity, a lame acceptance of mere survival.

I don't want to pin the point of my existence on future travels to Thailand, or Tokyo, or on skiiing in the winter, or on drinking at parties every weekend, or on life after JET. I want, however flimsy, the feeling like I'm doing something worthwhile and challenging this month, this week, this day. Today.

The quotidian is a necessary evil of life. Boredom is a necessary result of being human with the ability to learn. But if it seems like there's nothing interesting around me, only the quotidian and that lifeless wall of comfortable acceptance, then I've got to open my damned eyes before my time here is up.

(Caveat: this focusses entirely on my emotional state as a product of intellectual processes, and ignores other factors such as health, biochemistry, recent events and the barometer. After all, I've been fighting off a stupid cold for weeks now, I'm low on iron, I had nothing to do all week at school because the teachers were writing a test, and then the students were writing it, and there's no more sun to cheer me up as the winter clouds close in.)

hitching and one last hike: the winter is coming!

2007-11-11T21:22:00.000+09:00

Last weekend (Saturday November 9th), some fallen leaves didn't stop us from getting out for a smaller scale hike this weekend.

On Saturday morning, four of us biked to the highway that heads south out of town, and picked a hitch-hiking spot.

Hitch-hiking is not illegal and, as soon as they get you in their car, people are extremely polite and friendly and talkative, happy to converse in broken Janglish. They will often go out of their way to drop you right at your destination, like when we were driven off the highway straight to the door of an onsen the other week. Or like when my friend had someone drive him to a small town called Tomakomai: it was only an hour out of the driver's way, after all.
In any case, Saturday morning, one friend and I were picked up after approximately a minute. The driver was very friendly and chatty the whole 45 minutes.

At the trailhead for Eniwa-dake, my well-prepared friend Ito brewed some tea while we waited for our friends. For whatever reason, they weren't so lucky and after about an hour they still hadn't hitched. We had to hike without them.

(It turned out Okay for them though, because they ended up going to Jozankei and having a nice soak in an onsen.)

The forest was a barren and pained brown and the sky a churning grey, but the hike on the way up still afforded us a beautiful view of this lake Shikotsuko.

As we climbed, the temperature dropped and we entered a thick cloud hugging the top of the mountain. It was blustery and cold. But we both had big smiles on our faces to see our first snow of a season that promises much more to come.

Though it was chilly and the view was obstructed, the peak still provided a heightened sense of grandeur, peace, and connectedness to nature.

After the hike, we walked a few kilometres to a beautiful onsen with an outdoor bath that immediately overlooked the lake. The air was quiet, the setting spectacular, and the water just the right temperature to please the muscles and warm a chilled body. You have to go to one of these little onsens to really appreciate them. Maybe when I come back to Canada I will try start an onsen craze - though people might not take too kindly to me showing up naked randomly in their hot tubs.

After the onsen, despite it being dark and rainy, we were picked up by a car in no more than five or ten minutes. The driver was cheerful and more than happy to chat with us for the drive back to town. He was just returning from a Soba Festival, which is a hobby of his when he's not busy being a salary-man, so he wrapped some fresh soba noodles up and gave us each a gift! Did I mention how many incredibly kind people there are here?

We got back in town and had dinner at a 'gaijin' bar, owned and populated by foreigners. I don't know how to say this without seeming racist, but I can't say I miss being surrounded by caucasians. People's faces are like any other scenery around us, beautiful when varied, and I am thoroughly enjoying the change of scenery since I came to Japan.

After dinner we went to a fellow ALT's birthday party, which just about brought the house down, before heading out to a techno-house mix-typish music bar (i know nothing about music) with fricken laser beams shooting around people's heads.

The bars here don't seem to close, but we caught a taxi home around 4 or so, thus ending a jam-packed but well-balanced Saturday.

empty symbols and the education system

2007-11-04T20:22:00.001+09:00

P.S. If you didn't read 'swimming through sasa,' it is very happy and entirely uncritical, and might be a pleasant change after this post.

Randomata: In my class of 12 year olds, on the desk to my right, a student's pencil bag displays a cheerful and happy Minney Mouse. On the desk to my left, a black case features a playboy bunny with the word "PLAY" written simply beneath it. Over that way, a boy's notebook displays a green piece sign; the boy next to him has chosen a marijuana leaf - though I suppose these aren't all that different.
These borrowed symbols - the playboy bunny in particular, but many others as well - are quite popular here, adorning clothing and children's stationary supplies alike. Of course, that these symbols have the same meaning here is questionable. If I asked the boy what the marijuana leaf signified, it's a toss up if he'd know or not.
In a similar vein, the two most prized English four letter profanities are occasionally used by teachers and students alike, without quite the same intensity or intention. They know these are slightly inappropriate, but don't necessarily understand that "F*ck You" is suggestive of and contributes to an antagonism between two people - to put it politely - which is most undesired in the classroom.
I was a little more surprised when we watched part of an old Kevin Costner movie in class, "A Perfect World," which involved violence, blood, and death. Blood is understood in all languages, so in this case it's not simply that the significance was lost in translation. Perhaps because the violence is tied up in western symbols in the movie, it is considered both worthy of observation and yet distant from the students. Students can not reach through the symbol of a gun in American culture and pull the trigger in reality - there simply aren't guns in every house here. Playboy might slap the sticker on its merchandise, but the students only borrow the symbol for its western origins, not because they wish to advocate pornography.

Where have I thought, and what have I been?

I have talked to friends a little bit, and discovered that I am not all that unique. What I mean is, many ALT's feel varying degrees of the contemplative depression surrounding our work roles here. We each have our own ideas of how to improve our immediate teaching situation, as well as the english education system of Japan on the whole - and this after only two months of teaching! Apparently, we're very precocious novices. No, of course we don't necessarily know better than the scores of intellectuals who crafted the curriculum, or the multitude of bureaucrats who formulated the JET Programme. We are, I suppose, just venting random thoughts created by our first impressions here. For example, a couple people have suggested that it might be more worthwhile for the government to send English teachers abroad as part of their formal education, because those who have lived abroad are much more comfortable with the language, and more likely to convey it's utility and reality - meaning it is a real language that will help you speak to real people in real situations, and not just lines of a strange script to be memorised from a textbook.

I do think JET's are spoiled, in terms of our reimbursement and status here, as well as under-used in the school environment, where we may act as human tape-recorders for a whole series of classes, adding nothing but chirped vocab from the textbook. This does not seem to convince the students that English is any more real, alive, or relevant than the dead words on the page suggest, when it seems to me that exactly that should be the role of a JET Programme ALT.

I sound overly negative and critical at the moment. In truth, I'm pretty chipper and relaxed. Moreover, I am extremely, extremely thankful for my position here, and the opportunity I have been given. I live in relative luxury: I work less, I'm paid more, and I have more living space (which I pay less for) than many other teachers in Japan. When you add the already high standard of living here, compared to people in many places in the world, I live in extreme luxury. I am not completely naive of this fact, and I try to appreciate it as much as possible. Perhaps I should keep this imbalance to myself, but I prefer honesty and proclaimed gratitude.

So, I am not complaining about the JET Programme. Far from it, I simply wish I could be worth my weight in Yen. And, since I am part of the educational institution here, my mind can't help but evaluate how well we achieve our goals; even though I know I am fairly ignorant and inexperienced when it comes to something of that scale. Even though I have questioned in blogpost the ethics of trying to accelerate the spread and use of English here, my analytical mind can't help but think of ways to do it better.

Though they didn't reference statistics (as most people don't in casual conversation), and I'm not sure where this information comes from, friends inform me that average scores on English Proficiency tests are actually in decline here, despite the government's continuing expansion of mandatory English in the curriculum. Starting next year, English classes extend further, this time into elementary schools. Perhaps it is not only the subjective first impressions of us ALT's that indicate the system could use some tweaking.

soaring sights and swimming through sasa

2007-10-29T23:06:00.000+09:00

You're swimming through a dense undergrowth of bamboo brush that covers the forest floor. Climbing up the steep slope, you reach forward, brushing 6ft tall stalks out of the way, and then grab a handful and pull yourself onward as your arm completes the stroke. You as much feel the path ahead of you as see it.
When the bamboo thins, or clears temporarily, you look as far as the eye can see from the mountain ridge you are traversing. Hills and mountains extend to the misty horizon. You keep walking.
All around silent birch trees reach out of the brush, the last of their leaves shed for the season, their white bark gleaming in the sun. They thrive in this climate, and at this elevation, but their sparse branches and characteristic shredding bark make the silent scene seem more like a graveyard where the dead don't lie down, but stand and watch you passively, season after season.
After a gruelling ascent that allowed no glimpse of its summit, you emerge onto a clear peak, with a full panorama to reward your eyes, now sick of swimming through sasa. In the distant, Mt. Fuji's smaller twin, Yote, Fuji of the North, climbs up from its cloudy foundations, an impossible trapezoid reaching into the sky. Undulating hills and thrusting peaks surround a meandering valley that opens onto the Ishikara plain, where Sapporo sprawls. Looking around you know that the only place you have to be, is right here.

We started the hike Saturday morning, crossing just 6km's the first day, to find an amazing little hideway. An incredible two-floor wood cabin nestles in the bush, on the edge of a pristine little pond. Expecting a ten-foot shack which we would share with the squirrels, we were surprised to discover that a caretaker was keeping the cabin warm with a fire. My two friends and I passed the evening talking, having tea, doing some yoga, and most of all enjoying the stunning colours and thick silence of the forest - broken only later that evening by the caretaker's radio announcing the Fighter's win. It is baseball playoffs, after all.

The next morning, at 630 - when he heard us stirring - the caretaker came up from downstairs carrying a breakfast of mizo soup and hardboiled eggs for the three of us. This is in a little cabin in the woods where people can just pop in randomly and stay the night. This is Japanese hospitality.

Sunday was the real trek. On and off for around 23km's that day, with our big hiking backpacks in tow, we were swimming through that bamboo and crossing a slanting trail across the hilly ridge that was more slippery for the mud, decaying leaves, and bamboo stalks that made every step slightly precarious. My friend came out of it bruised and bleeding slightly from a dozen scratches across her legs. Luck and my hairy legs protected me, and I was left only with the wondrous feeling of trusting that the path I followed would lead me through the obscuring and enclosing brush.

At a hut near the other end of the trail, we stopped to chat with the caretaker. He was just heading home at the end of the weekend, so he offered us a ride - without us even asking, or saying where we were going yet. We hiked the remainder of the trail with him, and the three of us piled into his little sedan with our giant bags taking up ay available space.

He dropped us off in Jozankei - the closest onsen town to Sapporo - and we were quick to hop in the hot water in the bowels of a ritzy hotel. Hot water never felt so good, as when I stretched my legs out and gazed up at the brightening stars, and chatted with my friend about living in Japan.

Back in Sapporo later that evening, the three of us had tastey soba and tempura, and a nice cup of tea, at a quaint restaurant near our building, before saying farewell for the night.

Sunday night is my weekly scheduled phone chat with my mom, but I was just too tired to talk. I was exhausted from head to toe.

It felt great.

real japanese people, yay

2007-10-28T21:11:00.000+09:00

I'm sorry I left that last post on top for so long - what negativity and frustration I expressed! How can I be unhappy, with Nakagima-koen turning golden yellow and red. And so much has happened since last monday, how can I not smile in pleasant exhaustion.

I'm going to just summarize my week, cause it's been a pretty good one.

Monday after work I went to a used CD shop and asked for advice finding some music I would like. I got some Japanese folkish rock from the 1970's and some more recent softish rock: both not bad. The man was happy to try and find some good music, even if we only had so many words that we both could understand.
Then I went into a little cafe where I go every Monday, and I am forcing the owner to accept me as a regular. I have a spot where I sit and study, and we chat in a mix of english and japanese. Last week she kindly made me some vegetarian spaghetti for dinner.
Then I went to my weekly japanese lesson. I am excited, because I think the lessons are just about to get useful. They have been very slow moving so far, but I am starting to increase my vocabulary and the grammar we learn is starting to get more complex, so that slowly I am able to actually formulate sentences in regular conversation, though they make sense far less than half the time.

Tuesday was a short work day because we had a district-wide meeting of english teachers, observing a class and discussing its merrits. I had no idea what was said over the course of the meeting, but when my turn to contribute came around, I managed to say the correct formalities and surprise everybody by thanking the presenters for their teaching. Woot. I only had a little bit of trouble staying awake over the two hour meeting. So far, in most meetings, I have been one of the few people who DOES stay awake through the entire meeting. I figure that's fair, the rookie has to stay awake and the vets have earned the right for a little snooze here and there.
Even better, that night 6 teachers and 2 ALT's went to a classy Japanese restaurant for drinks and dinner. It was the perfect mix, because they knew lots of English, and yet were still kind enough to be amused by our incoherent efforts in Japanese. We ate some sashimi and sushi, and tomago yori, umaboshi, tofu habe, and susumi, or something, as well as other stuff. Multiple courses and samplings are the norm here. I can't remember what all the names were, and what everything was, but it was good!

Wednesday I left the office at 330 and went out to the soccer field. I kicked the soccer ball around for an hour by myself, doing some drills, and just goofing around. I get so sick of not having anything to do, but I've been there the whole time, and if they had something I could do for them, all they had to do was ask. So, I figure I might as well go and kick the ball around. When the kids came out at 430, I played with them for 530, just passing the ball and not worrying about speaking English, or speaking at all. It was nice.
Wednesday night was the only night this week I spent any time at home.

Thursday I saw two friends, and we chatted for a couple hours about fantasy books and american politics. Basically, they inform me, Terry Pratchet is amazing, and Bush is a scary dictator. There are so many ALT's here, it is easy to let time slip by and not see an individual for a while. It is great to have such an accessible network of basically instant friends, but the tricky part is maintaining ties with people as individuals, respecting them and putting the time into seeing them, and not just taking their presence here for granted.

Friday was a good day. My school's Chorus Contest was Friday morning, held at a beautiful music hall, Kitara, in the beautiful Nakagima-Koen. The music teacher says it is the fifth best music hall in the world, and I wouldn't presume to argue. I can't quite describe the whole event of the music contest, only: did I mention these kids are amazing? Every class has its own song, student conducted with four-part harmonies, accompanied by a student on piano. For the most part, practice was self-directed and corrected by the students, with occasional check-ups by teachers. Every day for a month or so, the kids have been working before and after school on their songs. On Friday morning, before filing into the theatre, after practicing their songs one last time, each class did a group huddle and a rev-up cheer. Again, the teachers just stood back and watched the kids at work. Every single student of the 750 got up on the stage, in front of maybe 1100 people in the audience, and contributed to their class song. They all tried as hard as they could to sing in harmony with the others. Each grade chose increasingly difficult songs, with the grade 9's involving changes of rhythm, solos, difficult harmonies, accapella, discordant harmonies, if there's such a thing, and lots of other technically hard stuff that I don't even understand. They performed incredibly. When the winners of the 9th grade were announced, a class that is always exceedingly friendly and chatty with me, I couldn't help but be touched by their shouts of joys and excited hugging and jumping. They work so hard, these kids, and they do some amazing things.

That evening, the teachers had an enkai to celebrate. I was so happy to see them all so bubbly and energetic. They could barely contain their happiness, it seem. Again I tried a bunch of things I've never eaten before, and it was all tasty. They were finally relaxed enough, it seemed, to have a few laughs at my expense, which really helped me feel included. They also assisted me with some new Japanese and were ever so congratulatory when I made anything resembling a sentence. My favourite quote was when I said (again) that I am from Vancouver, and the music teacher said "Oompaloompa?" I talked to many teachers, and it was so nice to share ever so slightly in their joy and triumph after the chorus contest.
After dinner, I joined a smaller group of teachers for the nijikai - the second party. Ten of us went to a little jazz bar in a basement somewhere, with a baby grand piano and an awesome middle-aged singer who sang jazzed versions of thirty and forty year old english songs. I learned more important vocabulary, like how to say 'drunk', and enjoyed every single time the teachers laughed at me or with me.

Saturday and Sunday were so amazing, I have to save them for a next post. I'm exhuasted and I need a snack before getting to bed early.

Dear Diary: no class whine

2007-10-23T00:14:00.000+09:00

(Disclaimer: This is an 'in the moment' rant written at work. The emotions expressed herein are indicative of a continued development in my life, yes, but they are not all-consuming of my life or thoughts or energies. If you don't want to hear me rant about my mood and perception of uselessness, then please don't read this post. On the other hand, I think it's written pretty well, so please read this post.)

It’s only slightly frustrating being a deadweight.

I got to work this morning actually excited to start my day. On Friday and the weekend, I had made the worksheet activity for my first class Monday morning, the same lesson to be repeated about 5 times throughout the next several school days. I was excited because I had a hint of the feeling that I could be an active participant in this whole ‘being an educator’ thing.

I made one worksheet last week that didn’t teach the grammar-point perfectly due to over-complexity and several formatting errors. It didn’t matter too much to me, though, because the kids had a fun time. Whether the activity today worked perfectly or not wouldn’t have mattered, either. What matters to me, after the kids having a bit of fun, is that I can learn to make lessons and activities that do work: I want to learn to contribute, learn to teach. Otherwise I will continue to feel as I have largely felt so far: like deadweight that the other teachers drag to class with them.

Well, I rushed to work this morning so I would have time to photocopy the worksheet. My shirt was still wrinkled and wet from yesterday’s wash. My rice and veggies were still cooking in the rice cooker, so I didn’t bring a lunch with me. I stuffed my stuff in my bag and walked out the door.

After my usual walk, subway, bus routine, by the time I was walking into the office, I had gotten over my nervousness and was only excited to try out the worksheet. However, as I opened the office door, an exiting teacher informed me hurriedly that my co-teacher for the class was ill and absent today. Another teacher would direct the class to work on preassigned materials and – unequivocally – there would be no need to team-teach the class.

Though I sidestepped personal offence at being so irrefutably dismissed, I wasn’t able to avoid the disappointment that followed my sudden uselessness. Suddenly, I had only one class scheduled for the day, in which I might speak five or ten sentences to the class. When I offered another teacher to help, on anything whatsoever, she politely and unhesitatingly declined. Just like last Thursday, when I knew the teachers would be there till 7 or 8pm marking English tests, and they still declined my offer to help, as I walked out the door at 5. Things like that make me feel moderately useless and unwanted, deadweight.

Now, I don’t define the worth of my whole existence on whether or not I can help mark tests, or whether I have one or two or three classes. And I don’t greatly desire remaining at work every day until 7 (or 8 or 10pm). Yet, a large part of my time every week is taken up pretending to be a teacher, and if you are what you do that creates an obvious potential for me to define my identity at least partly by that role. And so there is a tremor of cognitive dissonance when I am trying to define myself as a teacher, and all I feel like is a deadweight foreign-speaking clown who sits in the office and works on his meagre nihongo memorization every day.

As trivial as it might sound, and though friends who disdain work might disdain the following comment, I think I would be more at ease at work and happier with myself if I had a steady 3 or 4 classes a day. I think I would be happier if I was asked to contribute an activity or lesson idea with some regularity.

Life truly is unnerving for a public servant who is not serving. I think this is something you can only understand after coming to work for two months, having only one or two hours of constructive work each day, not being asked to help or contribute to anything else going on, and, what makes it all the harder, not being able to communicate at will with coworkers and alleviate these frustrations.

I have expressed that I would like to help more, learn to contribute more, and I am willing to work more. Usually they politely thank me, and we move on in the same fashion. It would be inappropriate to speak to them of my frustration, or even convey by my words or intonation or body language much negative emotion at all. This is hard, because I tend to function normally with my frustrations just behind the lines on my face and subtly worked into the stitching on my sleeve.

Now, my ‘constructive’ time is not entirely limited to the classroom. Before and after school, and in between classes, I roam the halls and chat with the kids. This might sound like, well, roaming, the opposite of hard work. Believe me, it is work. It takes not a small amount of creativity to think of something that will interest the kids, and make the effort of communicating worthwhile. And it truly is an effort. Sustained communication with such varying levels of comprehension can be extremely taxing and energy sapping. At times, I love it. And when we manage to successfully communicate on any topic at all, I am thrilled. Still, it is definitely tiring.

As I might have mentioned, I also eat lunch with the kids every day. I try to engage with the kids, but I definitely don’t demand that they talk. I feel this is a productive time even if we only manage to fit in five mutually intelligible sentences.

Other than that, the kids are in class or busy with activities every minute of the day, which means my raison d’etre ici, engaging with the kids, is unrealised for the vast majority of the minutes of the day.

I just don’t feel like I am worth the yen thrown my way, if this is all I do. More importantly, I don’t feel I am learning or being challenged as much as possible (or sometimes, at all). If I have a couple classes one day, and also chat with kids between every class, I will probably be exhausted by the end of the day. Even then, I’ll only feel fulfilled if I can actively contribute to the classes and feel useful to the other teachers, as well as engaging with the kids. If I have one class, and don’t see the kids that much, and feel like a deadweight carried by the staff, well, I just don’t feel like there’s much good in me being here.

Ok, I know: Patience!! I have told myself before that it takes time to become part of a team, especially when you don’t speak the same language. And I know it is my first teaching job, so I have to learn how to fit in with other teachers, and learn how to make useful and enjoyable lesson plans. And friends have wisely counselled me to shift my mindset, and enjoy the opportunity I have been given here. I get paid to interact with kids of a different culture, possibly expanding their purview as well as learning from them myself. And, even better, I get paid to spend a good amount of time each day working on my own interests, and refreshing my energy in my breaks. Said like that, it sounds like a pretty good deal. So, as overworked ALT friends at other schools have suggested, I should just enjoy the free time I’ve got while I’ve got it.

language loss

2007-10-18T19:22:00.000+09:00

As promised, this post will be more deliberative and expansive - though still centring on me, as my whole universe does.

Why am I here?

I am here to help influence Japanese school students into learning English; to help them practice what they've learned so far and push them to learn more so they can talk to the big, strange man in the hallway who doesn't speak their language. Hopefully, as they get older, their English abilities help them to thrive in an increasingly globalized world where English continues to be the main language of international business.

Their parents' generation experienced interactions with the rest of the world to a degree never before seen in Japan. English became more and more important. However, many of that generation were not educated in English so intensively. And, by adulthood, many likely found that English didn't actually help in day to day life. Only certain industries and a certain level in the hierarchy of employment required English conversational ability. This will most certainly be less true for the current generation.

Japanese culture right now is in a fascinating flux. I definitely don't have the intellectual capacity to sum up Western influences on culture here. Most obviously, English is everywhere you look. Advertising and signage is awash with English, whether correctly spelled or not, and everyday language is chalk full of borrowed words. When words are borrowed into Japanese, they are translated into katakana, so the sound always changes to suit the Japanese syllabary. Sometimes the sound and meaning changes effectively constitute a new word. Sometimes, they are fairly obvious. For example, 'elevator' becomes essentially 'erebaita,' because the tongue-flap 'r' doesn't appear at the end of words, and the sounds 'l' and 'v' as used in English are not part of the Japanese phonemic (like lexicon, but for phonemes: don't know if phonemic is a word, but that's ok).
I recently read a news article pointing out some Japanese concepts and words of the past that are no longer used, and are now most closely referenced in a borrowed word. In fact, the writer points out that even the Prime Minister used borrowed words as parts of speeches calling for a greater devotion to and protection of Japanese culture. Japanese, in other words, is increasingly being diluted by foreign words. Of course, this isn't the first time this fear has emerged in Japan, or elsewhere. Some people in all cultures forecast the future demise of their cultures, as attested to by current changes in the language.

Yet in Japan, there is some validity to the fear, in the sense that foreign influence will only deepen with future joint economic and political ventures, and because less people are being born to repopulate the Japanese culture and language, thanks to a low birth rate. (This is a very real and immediate phenomenon, meaning a couple thousand or so less Japanese people exist each year). As Indian and Chinese speakers of English jump by the tens of millions over the next 20 years, English will probably gain more prominence in the global economic sphere. Of course, India and China have massive populations to maintain their indigenous languages, even if Western consumer-culture hegemony is unstoppable. Japan's declining population of around 130 million might not provide a sufficiently hermetic stronghold.

And, despite some conservative calls to that effect, neither can Japan seek to defend its language at the cost of its economy. In "The World is Flat," Thomas Friedman points out that developing economies are wise to invest in mass English education programs. If only because the biggest economy in the world is (for now) the U.S.A., English is conducive to business. And that is why the government of Japan - and government sanctioned curriculum- eagerly and actively advocate popular English acquisition. And because of the government's efforts toward that end, I was able to get a job with the JET Programme.

I am contributing - on however small a scale - to the increased use of foreign language in place of traditional Japanese. Simply by living during this time, Japanese people are witnessing and participating in that process. I am getting paid to contribute to it.

How do I feel about that?

Yes, cultural change is inevitable, and I don't think language can ever be a set or static thing - at least, not for very long.

Yet... something still seems sad about the whole thing.

Dear Diary: Woo Hoo Hiking!!

2007-10-14T22:01:00.000+09:00

Randomata: There is a lot of randomness to the Japanese cityscape, to put it politely. It is hard to capture the helter-skelter character that seems pervasive in all urban areas; the awful colours of this picture are a meagre attempt. I recently read an article in a Japanese (English) paper lamenting the universal ugliness of Japanese cities, which lack any top-down regulations on appearance. The relatively beautiful little onsen-town of Noboribetsu had a balance of pretty and ugly sites, as did quaint little Jozankei, including one of the oversized, ubiquitious and hideous Pachinko gambling centres, complete with terrible blaring music and glaring neon lights that clash with everything around them. Every city and town I've seen so far has been a sprawl of construction that cares not one jot for a cohesive external aesthetic of any sort. With that said, please remember that I think Sapporo is a wonderful city with many, many beautiful buildings and places, not to mention the stunning natural beauty that surrounds.

This entry is a quick recount of my weekend, which may not interest you in the least. I promise I'll try to talk about more deliberative and expansive issues next post. But, if you want to hear what I sound like in a good mood, read on.

I am content and bubbly.
I had an awesome weekend, well-balanced in all the key areas, most importantly:

I FINALLY went for a hike. I've been itching and bitching to hit the hills for weeks and weeks and Saturday finally saw the fulfillment of that wish. I managed to keep the day free and tag along with some friends to hike up Kamui-Dake, just south of Sapporo and north of Jozankei. It was a 6 or 7 hour hike, with two peaks along the way. The views were spectacular; my eyes never tire of the contours of Hokkaido's volcanically and tectonically formed topography, rolling and jagged in turns.

Moreover, the dense and endless green of the forests is increasingly giving way to breath-taking reds and yellows that shout for your vision's attention. My friend said the scenery was middle of the road for what he's seen here so far. That means there is a lot more I have to get out and see.

Out of best hiking form, I hustled to keep up with my fit friends over the 14 or 15 km trek. It was worth every drop of sweat. It was worth the freezing cold wind near the summit that had froze the rivulets around us.

By the end of the day I was starting to feel the energy drain and muscle strain throughout my body. That was soon relieved. After hitch-hiking a short ride to Jozankei, we took in a lovely little rotemburo (outdoor onsen) with water at the perfect muscle-soothing temperature, picturesque landscaping, and an unobstructed view of the clear, star-filled sky. This is the primary reason I am so content this weekend.

But, balance is the key to everything, and my entire weekend was not filled with healthy and challenging treks through soul-filling nature. Friday was a fruitful (wine) and fermented (beer) evening for 'catching up with friends,' which meant Saturday's hike was done after a slight shortfall of sleep. This, in turn, meant Sunday morning was a write-off, good only for catching up on sleep. This is another reason I am so content: I took the entire morning - and then some of the afternoon - to get my beauty rest.

Everything went well this weekend. This evening, I chose a particularly friendly teller at the grocery store; he has blown me away with his friendliness before. I was so thrilled when he remembered me, seemed happy to see me, and proceeded to double check that the pasta sauce I bought was vegetarian! I think I was even able to tell him in Japanese that he's a really nice guy.
The big shop and money blow was so I could follow my parents' example and cram my fridge as full of food as possible, to enable better and more creative a diet, and preclude the annoyance of multiple trips the store. Consequently, for dinner, I made a tasty tofu dish for the first time, meaning I also worked on my personal goal of improving my abysmal cooking abilities.

Then, I studied Japanese for an hour, before corresponding with some people back home.

My spirit is elated, and my legs have been deliciously sore all day. And, incredibly, I don't mind the thought of waking up at 6:30am for work tomorrow.

Tourists: Noboribetsu, Otaru, Jozenkai

2007-10-10T23:41:00.000+09:00

NOBORIBETSU: I've been to hell and back - and it's actually quite nice this time of year.

On my parents' last weekend here we took a train down to Noboribetsu Onsen, a famous hot spring town. The park pictured is called Jigokudani, basically 'Hell Valley', a tumultuous topography of volcanic rock and spewing sulfur vents. For centuries the area has been seen as the place where Hell and Earth meet; delightfully cheesy Oni ('demon', devil) statues bedot the numerous walking paths, which wind through incredibly luscious decidious forest. Much of the vegetation here, actually, reminds me of that back home; now moving through fall, sharp patches of red, yellow, and brown are emerging amidst the unbelievably rich green of Hokkaido's forest, to quite beautiful effect. The sulfur, of course, made me a little lightheaded, but I think that only contributed to the whole experience.

Courtesy my folks, we stayed in the biggest, poshest hotel in all of Noboribetsu (a tourist town with MANY hotels). A lovely woman in a floral kimono walked us to our room and sat down to tea with us while she explained the hotel amenities! An amenity to which I was most amenable was the hotel's MASSIVE onsen (hot spring bath). This was my first onsen, and I was most pleasantly surprised. (Onsen are where you go in and get naked with everybody. Today, most onsen are seperated by sex, though this hasn't long been the case.) Two floors held about 10 baths of different temperatures and 'healing properties', as well as several other interesting features: primarily, the indescribably soothing 15-foot waterfall-stream-massager, where you sit on a marble block at the bottom and let the steady plop and platter of drops and splatter ply your head and shoulders till the aches of the day are gone. Then there was the walking loop, with about 4 inches of cold water to help chill you between soaks. Periodically on the loop appear out of the tile contoured foot massagers that heal you from the bottom up. Perhaps my favourite, though, were the outdoor tubs, where the cool air and night sky breeze by you, and the warm water enwombs you.

We also hopped up a tram lift to check out the view of a perfectly circular crater lake, circumference 1 km. It is an interesting feature of all Hokkaido maps, and much cooler than I could make it sound. Atop the mount we also viewed the inhabitants of the Noboribetsu Bear Museum, a combination live-action, real-thing zoo and informational, dead and stuffed museum. Bears are amazing creatures. They are huge. They have so much personality. They are beautiful. Seeing them was enjoyable.

Yet, as with Maruyama Zoo (and perhaps all zoos), the living conditions left a great deal to be desired. I am left with mixed memories. The most prominent involve "The Human Cage," where you can stand in a little room and drop nuts through little slots, as the bears eagerly bang up against the window, and follow the shadows of your hand on the glass, hoping for their next treat. Outside people taunted the bears with nuts to make them stand upright and clap their hands. The bears might not have pride, but somehow it still felt demeaning. So, yea, mixed memories.

In an inexplicable strip next to the bear park lay 4 or 5 traditional Ainu grass huts (Ainu: Indigenous population of Hokkaido, basically iradicated or assimilated since the Meiji era, 1860's). Pretty near every single city and town in Hokkaido has some or other "Ainu Museum," which is a great tribute to efforts in cultural revitalization, and, perhaps, sometimes, just a little bit of a less than exhillarating money grab. Regardless, the dried-grain houses were remarkably ingenuitive, and much of the authentic assemblage was interesting to see.

OTARU: The weekend previous, we went to Otaru for just a day, and by no means did we explore all the activites and sites. Still, it was a nice visit. Otaru is a small city an hour's train southwest of Sapporo. The town, an unremarkable harbour on the ocean, has an undeniably beautiful cannal, surrouned by moss-laced brick and stone heritage buildings, many upwards of 150 years ago. We watched a tourist help make some blown glass - a fascinating and elegant process - and were content to peruse the numerous glassware shops. Other than that, we just walked around the town, which is a mind-boggling mix of old and new, touristy and industrial, fascinating and downright ugly.

JOZANKEI: I also haven't mentioned Jozankei, where we went two weekends ago. Jozankei is another onsen town, much smaller, just on the southern outskirts of Sapporo. There were two main features of interest: first, a pretty park in the centre of town with a small walking path and, delightfully, a stone-lined foot-bath where you can soak your feet and chat with the friendly fellow soakers.

Second: an unattended Shinto shrine that has an ordinary looking door at the back. A little box quietly asks for 300 yen. The door leads to a 200 metre, narrow tunnel dug into the side of the mountain. Dim lighting and dripping water aid the mysterious and mystical aeshetic as you wind through the tunnel. Dug into the sides of the tunnel are 30 or so alcoves that house small altars with intricate statues of religious characters (none of whom I knew anything about). The whole thing was... weird. I can't really convey.

SAPPORO: Just briefly, I wanted to mention that some of the most enjoyable wandering was within the city limits. Sapporo has several stunningly beautiful and serene parks scattered throughout, as well as tourist attractions like museums, galleries, and the TV Tower at the centre of town. The most wonderful thing, though, are the surrounding mountains and the way they hug the city. Please check out my flikr for a more in-depth profile.

rents gone and good snoeshoes news

2007-10-09T00:15:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Public consumption of alcohol is not an offense: feel free to pop the can, cap, or cork right outside the conbini where you bought the beer, liquor, or wine; feel free to walk down the street with beer in hand, with no fear of reprimand. However, think twice before you walk and EAT. Eating while walking around in public is considered quite rude, no matter how politely you scarf down your onigiri (tightly packed rice, often wrapped in seaweed, makes a great snack). You can sit down at a bench, or perhaps find a discrete corner at which to stand and eat, but don't eat and run, or walk, in public!

What has happened in the days since last I wrote?

I took a bath in hell and I'm going to Thailand. For an explanation of the former, please read "Noboribetsu, Otaru, Jozankei". For an elaboration on the latter, please read as much of this post as you can stomach.

Sunday saw my dear parents depart for Vancouver, capping off our tweek visit. They were great to have around, as I've said, because they made me get out and play tourist a little more myself. I think they had a great time taking trains hither and thither to Hokkaido's other towns and cities. Living with them over those two weeks (as I did for 21 years up till August) was... qualitatively different than sharing my home space with no one. It was hard to reconcile the 'new' live-alone me with hints of my previous 21 years of reality. Yet, I was happy to have them. And then, it was hard to see them go and I had to readjust to the realisation that I really am living, on my own, in Japan.

At work, I've felt more productive than I think I previously indicated: I had more classes, talked a bit more with teachers, chatted more extensively with students, found specific difficulties to help the kids with, helped with the English club - they even recorded my telling of two children's tales to help with their practice! Though I'm scheduled to be off at 4:15, somehow I managed to stay until at least 6pm every day last week. After seeing my parents off on Sunday I went in to catch some of the Band concert. (Those kids are incredible!!!! I was bored by the all-star guest performer!) Today after school, I stayed around a couple hours to play in a cross-school teachers' volleyball game.

None of this is to say I everything is perfect, or that I am even contributing all that much to the school as a whole. I still have a lot of dead time, and I still haven't connected with most of the teachers, and I still feel like neither they nor I know what I'm really supposed to be doing here.

And, clearly not all of the students are comfortable with me. One girl walked into a classroom to find me sitting down at a grandpiano therein (just admiring its magnificence). She was stunned into silence. I tried to tell her that anybody was welcome in the classroom, and she could just go about doing whatever it was she came in to do. She said nothing. For five minutes, I tried everything I could to assure her that I didn't mind whether she spoke or not, whether she stayed or not, or really care about anything she did whatsoever! But a long, long five minutes later she was still frozen on the spot, terrified. Yes, I could have simply walked out myself, but I am stubborn.

Over the last week or 10 days I've also been getting over what has been, for me, a terrible cough. My mucous-clearing hacks have reverberated throughout the halls of my school; I sounded like one of the monsters from the children's stories we recorded. It hasn't got me down too much, though, and I only lost sleep because of it for one or four nights. Now I'm just pounding my lungs to clear away the last of the tenacious phlegm. Apparently it is extremely difficult to stay healthy here, what with the cold weakening your general immune system and the hundreds of little junior high hellians swapping microscopic sick all over the place. So, that's something to look forward to!

Following the lead of a fellow ALT and shopper, I bought some snowshoes from a used store. I've never had snowshoes before, and I don't really know what to do with them. I am simply trying to commit myself: I WILL do fun and exciting and adventurous outdoor things this winter. I WON'T just stay couped up in my apartment and in the city, itching to get out and enjoy the hills and trees and wonderful nature. All I've done since I got here is itch!!

As for other exciting commitments this winter, a charming and rambuctious friend convinced me in about 5 minutes to buy a ticket to Thailand. We're going after christmas, over new years. That purchase was one of the most spontaneous things I've ever done, at least in terms of suddenly spending a fair amount of money. I don't know where we're going, or what we will do there, but my friend assures me we will know by the time it happens.

Hmm. My rambling thoughts are not exhausted, but I fear a rambling tongue outlasts the ear's patience. So, till next time.

lunch and lively chats

2007-10-02T21:24:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Lunch. Regulated school lunches were introduced during the occupation after World War Two, when food was pretty scarce. I believe every junior high school in the entire country offers school lunch of a similar form. Now, what I mean by 'school lunch' is a set schedule of meals that appears from the kitchen in the depths of the school, where it is prepared by the largely unseen kitchen staff. Old metal carts with noisy wheels are laden with exactly the right number of bowls, plates, forks and food for each student in a given classroom, and then rolled to that destination.
What I mean by 'offers' is that school lunch is mandatory and the students are not allowed to bring to school any other food whatsoever. They are most definitely not allowed to eat chips or candy, or suck on a soda during class. The meal is regulated by some board of health somewhere and, indeed, on top of smelling quite scrumptous, is healthier by countless kilocals than all the junk we ate back in school in nVan-city. The students arrange their desks in groups of 6 or so, while 5 or so aproned students play 'lunch-lady', doling out to everybody. Everybody says 'itadakimasu' together before eating (maybe 'we have been given,' loosely translated as 'let's eat') and, after, gochisosama deshita ('a feast it was,' -ish).

I have so many ups and downs every day I can hardly keep track of morning and night.
I am exhausted every morning when the beeping and buzzing starts at 6:15am.
I'm still exhausted when I stop pressing snooze and wake up at 7.
I'm slightly less exhausted if I wake up in a panic at 7:30 to find my alarm clock thrown out the window and have to rush out the door in 5 minutes to get to the subway on time. However, that is unenjoyable in its own way.

Gosh, with that opening, you wouldn't know that I'm in a good mood, happy with life at the moment! Aside from needing more sleep, I am pretty content today. And, as my mother always says when she wakes me up to watch the sunrise (practically), 'You'll sleep when you're dead."

Positive trends in indigenous communication continue since last week's post. I have ever so slightly broken out of my timid avocalic shell since my parents' arrival a week ago. I don't claim to be speaking volumes, or to be speaking particularly well; but I am speaking more - which is the important thing.

Since my delightful beer-enhanced conversation with those student teachers ten days ago, I have been more aware of the number of people who are eager to practice their english, and willing to listen to some choppy, butchered nihongo. Some people really, really dont know how or are not inclined to talk to me; that's fine. Many, though, are thrilled to say anything as short as 'hello' or as long as 'hey, welcome to the bar... ...(insert humourous conversation here)... ...it's 3am. go now. good night.' I am turning into a bit of a junky though, always asking people to explain to me what they are saying slowly, or what a certain word is in Japanese. I don't remember most of it the first (or fifth) time, but I'm hoping eventually it will sink in.

I have good news from my workplace too; perhaps my omiyage on Friday had a good effect. Yesterday, when i walked into the office, the as yet uninterested (or simply highly tentative) "business servant" (tea lady) said good morning to me. It might not sound like much, but when you have worked in an office with people for a month, and still not said a word to many of them, you'll understand its import. I also managed to glance at some names quickly and say hello to some people with whom I've yet to exchange even the most modest pleasantries - after a month!!! The simple pleasantries are huge in any office (or anywhere) in Japan and saying 'ohayo gozaimasu' in the morning is one of the only things many coworkers are capable/desirous of saying to me.

Later though, I was trying to say 'it is quiet' to the business servant, and I think i might have accidently told her to 'be quiet'... we'll see how she greets me tomorrow.

The contrite music instructor also seems slightly less distant. I sat in on a singing class yesterday - I didn't say anything, or draw attention to myself; I just listened. And I loved it!

The school is now preparing for the Chorus Contest, in which each class competes with a different song. We are not talking a one-minute comedic mock ballad; we are talking classic compositions with (grand)piano accompaniment and four sections of vocal ranges. All 750 students participate. Every class I have heard so far sounds incredible. If they are anywhere near as good as the band, I might just start crying right in the assembly. I'm not sappy, ok, I just like good music.

Hot on the heels of the School Festival, the contest ensures that teachers and students once more have of a ton of extra work to do, and so are no longer at risk of accidently going home after normal school hours. They work hard here. All the time.

After school today, I spent about an hour and a half chatting with two teachers in a mix of Japanese and English (meaning they switched back and forth, not me). They are the extremely friendly and delightful school nurses, one of whom received the omiyage moose. I was trying to explain to them that "I don't miss my home yet, but I want to. I am not homesick, but I want to be. I want to miss my home and be homesick because then I will know how important, how dear, my home is to me." This was quite difficult, because they weren't precisely sure of what I meant by homesick, and they didn't understand why I was saying 'I want to be...(sad + lonely + away + missing something dear). Then we tried to discuss learning other languages, and how difficult it is for a foreigner to understand the different ways of saying things, and how difficult it is for a native speaker to explain WHY we say things the way we do. It was most enjoyable to discuss something that induced more contemplative gravity than the obesity of my unlucky cat back home ("In Vancouver, I have a black cat. She is very fat, so I call her 'Fat'.")

omiyage at last

2007-10-02T20:39:00.001+09:00

One long Randomata about Omiyage:
My parents were kind enough to bring some supplemental gifts from Vancouver, so I finally had to work up the nerve to give 'omiyage' to the staff of my office. Omiyage is the more or less obligatory exchange of gifts between coworkers at certain times. Especially when newly part of a team, one should definitely plan some gifts to help break the ice. After that, New Years and other holidays are somewhat prescripted times of giving. And it is a good idea, any time you take a trip somewhere special, to bring something small back for each of your coworkers (ie an individually wrapped goodie). That way, you can talk about your holiday without feeling bad, because everybody is sharing in the experience.
You are not contractually obliged to omiyage. You are not provided with a list of appropriate gifts or approximate costs, so it is a bit nerve-wracking trying to figure out what to give everybody. It is pretty obvious that you want to give a little bit extra to those on top of the ladder (ie principal, your department head). But how the heck was I to solve the conundrum of having 40+ coworkers to express my pre-emptive gratitude for?
Well, I gave the principal and vice principal bottles of canadian whiskey. I gave the english department head a slighty smaller bottle of canadian whiskey. I opened up a few boxes of tasty maple leaf-shaped Purdy's chocolates (thanks for bringing them mom) and quickly tossed them amongst the staff after a meeting before I could chicken out. I gave a little teddy-moose to a teacher who had been particularly welcoming and friendly to me, as a small sign of thanks. You can't really give just one person a gift, or focus too much on them. But as long as you give something to everybody, something extra to one person is ok.

ass rashes and man-chickens

2007-09-25T00:02:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Having a guest to play tour guide for is a great way to get off your lazy butt and play tourist yourself.

Randomata: When you walk into any shop or restaurant, you are greeted with something that might sound like "arashmyasseh", if you don't know what they're saying. What the one or two or ten people working there are saying, though, is "irashimaseh," which basically means 'welcome', and has nothing to do with rashes on your ass or theirs. Even walking into a conbini at 2am, you are friendily welcomed.

Such politeness is a token element of the japanese service industry. If somebody is going to serve you, 9 times out of 10 they will offer the most amazing service you could hope for. You can go into a store and ask for advice that has nothing to do with the shoes they sell there. You can ask for something tricky at the grocery store and the cashier will probably leave the till to go look, subsequently making no less than 4 loops of the entire supermarket at a near sprint as he looks for someone who might be able to offer more help. Then suddenly there are between 4 and 5 other workers standing there with you, trying to understand the difference between baking soda and baking powder, before they run up and down all the aisles to reconfirm that they are, in fact, out of baking powder.

At restaurants, servers aren't expected to wait on you hand and foot; they take your order, bring your food, and then mostly leave you alone. But any time they are dealing with you, you will feel like the most welcomed houseguest ever. And if ever you need something, grab their attention and they will come running to ask what. The almost always amazing service makes me wish that tipping was part of the culture here. But their awesome service isn't tip-worthy, it isn't above and beyond: it is simply expected of people in that role.

The fan in my computer hums noisily and the glare of the flourscent overhead beats down on my brain and angers my eyes. I'm tired.

But it's ok: I'm tired in a good way! My parents have been here and we've been running around being touristy.

Last Friday and Saturday, my junior high held it's 'School Festival.' Every school has a festival like this, to which every class and every single student contributes in some way. Every student either helped with a stage production or with decorating a classroom. For a month leading up to the festival, students and teachers have been putting in two to three hours of preparatory work at the end of the school day, every single day. I am not supposed to take too many photos of the students, and I am definitely not supposed to put them on the internet, so I can only show a small sampling of their hard work on my flikr. Highlights included a "Stomp" performance and an inspiring brass and jazz band performance. These, as well as skipping-rope and dance troupes were my favourite because the often timid students got up on stage with confidence and rocked the house with their energy. It was hard to only employ the accepted polite applause after the stomp performance, and not to cheer and stomp in response. The band performance was possibly the best school band performance I have ever heard. I don't know if I have ever been emotionally moved by a school band before; maybe I am getting sappy in my old age.
Ok, to stop rambling, the last highlight I will mention included the English Club's filmed "Wizard of Oz." The students spoke way more english in that film than they ever would otherwise. My favourite part, though, was when Dorothy arrives after the tornado to meet the 'Man-chickens' of 'Man-chicken' land. I don't know if this was a matter of mistranslation or politically avoidant script writing... after all, it's 'little person,' or 'man-chicken,' not *unchkin, right?

Saturday afternoon, it was hard to believe the rapidity with which the students and teachers dismantled the fruits of their labour. A month’s worth of incredible drawings and decorations that covered the school disappeared in a mere hour, with narry a trace of their existence to be found. For them it was a simple matter: the festival was over, the materials no longer important. In Japan, when there is a designated time for something to occur, it should occur precisely then – not start early, and not finish late.

For example, tabe-nomi-hodai enkai parties are usually two hours of all you can drink and eat, and then you promptly leave the restaurant. After the school festival, we had a staff enkai. These parties are very important in the workplace culture of Japan; drinking together outside of work is seen as important to creating a cohesive workgroup. The team that pays their 3500yen each and gets sloshed together, stays together. The party was at the usual kind of place, where you leave your shoes at the door, kneel on the tatami floor, have beer, sake, and more, and they bring you food galore.

I had to open the party with a brief speech saying how grateful I was to be part of the team, and how impressive the school festival was. Then, the kocho-sensai (principal) made an opening speech welcoming me and – very quickly – offering the first ‘kampai’(cheers) so everybody could start drinking. The rest of the night witnessed increasing gaiety punctuated with decreasingly coherent speeches by a pre-selected line-up of teachers.

My personal nijikai (second party) was particularly satisfying. Some of the teachers went on to another bar, some went home; I tagged along with three Japanese student teachers and went for more drinks and nibblies at a smaller restaurant. (There, you pay for drinks by the half hour increment.) No offense to English-speakers who I have gone drinking or partying with, or to any ALT’s here, but that half-hour-turned-into-two-hours with those student-teachers was far more rewarding. It was challenging to fit in with them and the rest of the crowd, instead of just accepting my sticking out as I do when with a group of foreigners. It was challenging to communicate with them, and to make it entertaining for all of us. Most of all, it was extremely rewarding to connect with some people who really live here, instead of just people who are visitors, strangers, like myself. I made a much more determined effort to use the tiny bit of Japanese I know, and I feel like I learned as much from a couple hours with them then all of my studying before! It wasn’t just that there were attractive girls involved, I swear: it was just fun to hang out with them!

Since then, I have been making more of an effort to use my pathetic Japanese vocabulary (‘tango’) whenever I can. It has helped, of course, that my parents arrived Saturday night. I was late picking them up from the train station (because of the half-hour-turned-into-two-hours), but they were merrily sipping some beer in a bar when I got to them.

Having a guest expect you to play tour guide is a great way to make you get off your lazy butt and play tourist yourself. We have explored Sapporo a fair bit as well as made a short trip outside the city, to a fishing/heritage/touristy town – none of which I would have done this weekend had my parents not arrived.

On top of that, because they depend on me slightly and because I want to show off, I try to use any Japanese word, any chance I get. So, they are very good motivation, and it is very good language practice. Otaru (the fishing/heritage/touristy town) was very beautiful and worthwhile.

As a consequence, I am at the moment having mixed feelings about my personal ‘accomplishments’ thus far. Having my parents here makes me realise that I have learned a fair bit about how I can make a life here, even if the language is slow in coming along. And indeed, though unacceptably slowly, my language is perceivably improving nonetheless. I was quite proud when at a conbini I asked for help buying tickets to a soccer game, and was able to discuss the date and time and such!! After dinner tonight, it was really nice to be able to make the server smile with gracious acceptance of our enjoyment of and gratitude for the tasty food (I only know ‘tasty,’ at this point; ‘delicious’ will come later). Also, as I mentioned, people do indeed seem slightly more willing to try and speak Japanese to me now… I suppose it is the way I carry myself; perhaps I was frowning in confusion a lot before, and that deterred people’s attempts. Now I grin in confusion, and that makes it a lot easier on them.

And yet, I am still a little disappointed in myself. I feel like I haven’t put enough effort into studying and practicing Japanese every day. I feel like I haven’t made learning and reading about the language and the culture enough of a priority in my day to day life. On a different note, I feel like I haven’t put enough into finding challenging and new experiences, whether they are cultural, social, or personal.

Namely, I still haven't gone on any exciting hikes out of town. That isn't a particularly 'Japanese' activity, but it is personally an important activity. I feel most alive when I am outside climbing a big hill somewhere. Plus, Hokkaido is renowned for its hills and hikes and natural beauty, so I do feel I am not taking advantage of my (geographical) place in life.

On top of that, hanging out with the student teachers makes me realize that I have been 'hiding' among the english ALT's and retreating to my apartment all too often. I need to get out there and talk to Japanese people more, otherwise I will never feel a real part of the place I'm in.

possible progress

2007-09-20T21:36:00.000+09:00

Randomata: 1. Just briefly, to flesh out the weak history in my previous explanation: written language in Japan first appears around 700c.e., entirely Chinese in form. Kana is a "native orthography for the phonetic representation of Japanese" developed in the 9th and 10th centuries, in a concerted effort to distance Japanese from mainland languages. So, I think it was fair to say that hiragana is an indigenous rehashing of Chinese kanji mixed with equal parts Japanese ingenuity and universal human laziness.

2. Just briefly, to return to my comment on music here: I forgot to mention that when they are finally playing a good song on the radio, they invariably stop the song about 68% of the way through. I'm not sure why they do this. I swear they let the crappy songs play all the way to the end. For example, shortly after I wrote that post on annoying music practices, I felt bad because U2's 'One' came on the radio - a song of which I am quite fond - only to have my annoyance reconfirmed when the song stopped before the last verse, not to mention the glorious climactic bridge.
Frustratingly, for someone trying to become slightly more immersed, there is a lot of English on the radio; sometimes it is hard to find any Japanese songs or talk at all.

Last Sunday, I went to the Sapporo Gay Pride Parade. You might be surprised to hear that, and rightly so. To put it mildly, Japan is not renowned for its tolerance of difference. Hokkaido prefecture (technically it is a "do" or 'circuit' and not a 'ken' or prefecture; a semantic split which I figure to be similar to the difference between Province and Territory in Canada (another difference about which I know next to nothing (which makes this another parenthetical explanatory addition that doesn't really help explain anything at all))) is one of the most accepting of homosexuality. The parade runs right through downtown (however it is only alloted one lane, so it has to share the road, as well as stop at red lights!!) and I believe it is the largest and longest running in Japan. The music and energy and awesome faces in the crowd all difficult to convey in words. So, I don't have much to say, other than that it was awesome! I proudly joined the march (along with a bunch of ALT's) to support friends with rainbows in their hearts, (or on their shirts, backs, faces, hair, or waving flag). There is only one or two buttocks in my photos of the event, so please don't be afraid.

Prior to that, I went to a Sapporo Consadoles Soccer game, once again at the impressive Sapporo Dome (where I saw a Fighter's Baseball game the week before). The field they play on is absolutely perfect: the dimensions are perfect, the lines are perfect, and it's level is perfect. Incredibly, the whole field sits atop a gigantic, hydraulically driven mobile foundation that allows the entire field to be moved out of the way for the baseball games.
The fans were, if possible, even more intense than for the baseball game. A sea of red jerseys, faces, and flags filled the far side of the stadium's stands. To my right, an entire section devoted to the opposing team's fans threatened to overfill with the thickness of yellow from their paraphernalia. These two sections spent the entire game in coordinated stomping, clapping, and singing in an effort to drown out the opposing song. The skill level of the soccer made it quite enjoyable, but the fans made it awesome. After the game, both teams line up and bow to thank the fans. The pictures don't capture the stadium very well, and there is simply no way to capture the feeling of being there.

In other news, the lummox has taken some baby steps.

Several times have I looked the right way when crossing the street.
Even better, I successfully asked where the rice was in the grocery store the other day, and I didn't even have to repeat the question!
At work I've actually said a good ten or so words that a real, live Japanese person understood, though I've only had one or two sentences meet with much success. Previously, I would look up a word, repeat in my head, immediately walk over and say it to another sensei, and they STILL didn't understand me.
Whatever I am doing, it is somehow noticeable, because when delivery people and outsiders walk into the teacher's office, they have started asking me questions, like where somebody might be. Previously, they would quickly blink away the surprised look on their face and seek someone more approachable. I can't understand half the question, and I don't know nearly half the names of all the teachers. But it doesn't matter. Somebody asked me a question: Somebody found it conceivable that I might know something, anything at all. That is pretty thrilling.

When anybody walks into the office, they quietly announce "shitsureishimasu:" basically 'sorry i'm BEING rude'. When parents and professionals walk into the office, the elsewhere mostly unnoticeable social hierarchy becomes more evident. Visitors often bow repeatedly, say up to 4 times!, as they say other things along the lines of "sorry," "sorry to bother you," etc. The principal and the vice principal are extremely friendly and helpful to anybody that comes in; nonetheless the visitor still seems abashed and apologetic, or at least extremely grateful for the grace bestowed upon them, with more bows and formal "farewell"s and "pardon-me"s after they finish conversing. As they bow their way out the door, they announce "shitsureishimashita:' 'sorry that i WAS rude'.

Speaking of visitors coming into the school, a coworker came up to me in the office to show me an 8 foot long metal pole with a foot wide biforkal prong at one end. He asked me what I thought it was. It looked like some sort of strange enormous cattle prong. He proceeded to use the pole to force another coworker trapped inside the fork up against a wall. Then he said "For strangers." So, I thought we was joking, and I couldn't figure out what the pole was really for.

Turns out it really is a 10foot-long pole used to pin strangers to the wall. The key word he left out was "For DUBIOUS strangers," which another sensei found on the internet. After I sounded out the word, the whole office giggled as they repeated 'DUBIOUS' numerous times. It is kinda a funny word, I guess. Anyways, the pole is called a sasumoda or something, and it is for pinning down strangers who come into school brandishing a knife. I am not joking about any of this, by the way, and I now know where the Dubious Stranger Prong (D.S.P) is stored, in case of an emergency.
Last week every single staff member in the entire school (myself excluded) learned how to use a portable defibrillator.
I wonder what next week's lesson will be.

waste and welcome and "Life is so unnerving..."

2007-09-16T20:35:00.000+09:00

Randomata: In one of my very early posts, I considered the impending difficulty of excessive waste packaging in Japan. I now believe that worry was well founded. Food is ridiculously over packaged in layer after layer of plastic, some of which is burned, some buried, and some recycled.
Shopping for food at grocery stores and cooking at home reduces some of this waste. I try to refuse plastic bags at the store whenever possible (though you go through quite a few with all the complex garbage sorting). If you shop at a conbini, you have to simply accept heaps of waste plastic.
Chopsticks are a huge waste of forestry resources, as you may have heard. Of course, Japan imports the vast majority of its wood resources, so the felled forests are elsewhere. Portable cases and chopsticks quite easily alleviate this waste, and this simple conservation tactic will (i hope) only grow in popularity, however slowly.
Another random and very noticeable waste, people seem to enjoy idling their cars for no purpose whatsoever, intentionally leaving them running, even when they have no intention of driving away.

Gaijin (foreigners) make up something like 1% of the population of Japan. The great majority of these are Korean; quite a few are Brazillian or Brazillian-Japanese; of 'western' foreign-residents, the greatest number come from the United States; the rest are from 'Other' places. There's at least five Canadians in the J-Spot, cause that's how many I've met... Embassies, International Communication Hubs, Numerous 'Gaijin Bars' and associations of various sorts provide a somewhat flimsy sense of community for those who miss it and wish it.

'Gaijin' literally means 'outside person' (read: unwanted outsider) and can be construed as rude. Gaikokujin is a more polite way of saying 'foreign resident.' Like the vocabulary, the reception to foreigners varies diametrically. Some people are stunned to see me (or a group of us), overtly dropping their jaws and starring unabashedly - and I mean starring nonstop for five or ten minutes. Some children scurry away. Many old people furrow their brows furiously or quite stiffly look away. All of these are fairly superficial reactions, and possibly don't tell us much about the mentality behind them, but so far they are all I have to go on.

Other people, of all ages, are very excited to see these strange looking people; many are eager to practice a small smattering of english (usually as a joke, and especially after a few drinks). On the subway the other day, a wonderful elderly man smiled and gave us a friendly greeting and, after making a origami Pikachu for the child next to him, quickly whipped up a beautiful paper flower for my friend. Many people, of course, embrace the foreign or the Western, taking trips and exchanges overseas, practicing their English or second language at school and with tutors. Students like this are the first to come up to me after class and engage in small talk. Every time I have gone to a bar, we have ended up very good friends with the bartenders, so they, at least, don't mind us. These all make a small sampling but, again, they are all I have to go on.

Any surprised reactions in a fairly large and connected city like Sapporo would likely be exaggerated in any smaller town. So far, my racial identity has only prevented me once from a given activity. I stunned the owners of a small coffee shop simply by walking through their doors, to then have them ask me by gestures and Japanese to please leave because, I guess, the shop was closed - even though it was only the afternoon. I am not at all bitter or offended, though at first it was somewhat hard not to take it personally. A reaction like this is understandable because foreigners are so extremely rare. Seeing me for the first time, of course this older couple was unprepared. Even my teachers, who have had foreign ALT's before, hardly know how the heck to act around me!

Oh, of my height: Yes, I am definitely above average height here, but No, I do not feel like a giant. I do feel like I have to slouch all the time, hunch my shoulders and chest somewhat, so as to be less intimidating, most especially at school where I do dwarf the munchkins.

The munchkins are slowly warming up to me. It helps that they now realise I will not yell at them if they speak Japanese. They are allowed to think out loud, and even try to communicate with me in Japanese, as I stare uncomprehendingly and they search for an English word to say what they want to say. I am trying to use my time with them to pick up Japanese words here and there; however, in their minds, I have to remain functionally noncommunicative to ensure their continued striving in English.

I had a hard task on Friday at work. I had to listen to two girls read a story from their textbook, to decide which student would enter a regional speaking competition. Both spoke very well, despite their extreme nervousness at orating in front of the big scary englisher, me.

The selection they read, in tone reminiscent of Silverstein's "The Giving Tree," was a heartwrenching story about the bombing of Hiroshima, as experienced by a tree on the outskirts of the city. I had accidentally stumbled upon "A Mother's Lullaby" earlier that day, as I flipped through the textbook. I was unprepared for its impact.

(rest of story on flikr)
Anyways, it was difficult to evaluate the speaker's pronunciation, intonation and animation of such a story, not to mention I hate being in a position where I have to judge the students.

On the other hand, it was nice to feel at all useful. I am beginning to think that my school doesn't really want an ALT, as they have me scheduled for very very few clases each day. I know that is me being overly anxious: once the school festival is done, things will calm down and they will have more regular classes again, with which I can help. It is just hard to go to school everyday and have nobody ask me for any help, on anything whatsoever. I have written short, individual responses to some 300 questions posed by some of the students, to show them that english actually will enable communication with a real human being. That has been... 'fun'. (At least it's DOING something!!!!)

Somehow, I am extremely tired and somewhat stressed at and after school, despite my lack of work to do. Being there with nothing to do is stressful, and not feeling like part of the team is most uncomfortable. I do not stay an hour or so late every day now to put in more 'Face Time', as I had been doing, because the positive effects were negligable. My friends advised me to relax, to stop wearing a tie and such nice clothing, and to make a few obvious blunders in front of everybody so that I am not so upright and intimidating anymore. To that end, I wore no tie and was late to work on Friday... the effect of this perhaps I will feel on Tuesday, after the long weekend has ended.

I really want to talk about the soccer game and the gay pride parade, but I don't want to stretch anybody's patience.
So, to another post those topics I relegate.

an idiotic guide to language

2007-09-13T23:44:00.000+09:00

Randomata: You've possibly already heard about the immense complexity of the Japanese language both spoken and written. I have not even begun to understand the nuances of the spoken language. All I know is that vernacular usage rarely seems to follow the dictionary's prescriptions, and can vary greatly depending on the situation and who is talking to who.

For example, I asked somebody how to say "I want to sleep" and she explained that you could say "netai," "nemutai," "nemurutai," or "nemuru shitaiimasu" (or something) depending on how 'correct' you wanted to be - and other factors that she couldn't explain. I have confused several native speakers by asking what the correct particle is for a given situation (de, no, ni, o, etc - at, on, of, in, 'n stuff); sometimes they can't decide, and sometimes they disagree with each other.
Also, like all people, the Japanese play with their language, shortening words and blending common phrases in a dynamic way that is extremely hard to capture in a dictionary.
Ok, and then the written language.

There are three systems: Kanji, hiragana, and katakana. (By the way, I am writing this just to convey my ignorance and confused learning, not to display well researched knowledge). Kanji was borrowed from China some 600 or 3000 years ago. Every swish and symbol in kanji can have phonetic/syllabic content, loosely iconographic content, and symbollic content - none of which words mean much to you or me, but each of which I use anyways. Further, a given form can have many many many symbollic meanings ascribed to it. So, one symbol could (theoretically, i mean) mean heart and depth and liquid pump and lungfish, as well as a 'sc' sound. There are thousands of individual kanji symbols.

Hiragana is a blend of indigenous Japanese ingenuity and laziness, originally derived from kanji forms. Katakana was simply a class or style of hiragana hundreds of years ago, but eventually developed into a delineated character set. The kana are nearly true phonetic syllabaries, so there are about 50 symbols in each system, with diacritics for voicing (ie to make 't' into 'd') and specific ways to adjoin the symbols to make sounds like "jo" (jo = shi voiced, truncated by adjoined yo).

Today, hiragana is used for indigenous japanese words, and katakana is used exclusively for those identified as 'loan words,' which have been borrowed into japanese from another language within some undefined span of historical memory. Some of the katakana closely mimics the hiragana. Some of the hiragana seems reminiscient of some of the kanji. All of the kanji is finely detailed and oversignified.

On top of this, romaji or roman characters pop up all over the place. Roman numerals are pretty widely used. Plus, of course, they use different fonts all over the place, which seem to completely change the look of the symbols to a novice like me.
What makes it so tricky is that a given sentence can mix kanji and kanas with no spaces between the writing systems or words, and there is nothing to mark off words with a specific grammatical purpose (like the predicates).

I haven't done a very good job of explaining the whole thing: it's much more impressive and complex than it sounds.

i live in a japanse musical

2007-09-09T21:07:00.000+09:00

Randomata: There is delightfully awful music everywhere. Pretty much all Japanese popular music includes random english words and half-sensical english choruses. Many stores have music in certain sections, setting the mood or whatnot. In the grocery store, they play adverts for milk or meat or fish. These are 7.5-second bites of high-pitched and chirpy synthesized singing/noise that repeat absolutely incessently for the store's hours of operation. Think of 20 small children butchering 7.5 seconds of a song, and then repeat it continuously in your head. In the hyaku-en store (dollar store, but 100 times awesomer), they always play awful pan-flute or synthesized remakes of old english music that was annoying in the first place - no offence to Rod Stewart, he's just not my bag. An ad on the radio just now consisted of something like panfluted theme to Jurassic Parts meets synthesized remix of the theme from star wars. I'm pretty sure it was an ad for a tutoring school.

----If this post is too long for you, please read the last 4 paragraphs about hookers, toddlers, broomsmen, baseball and the YMCA.-----

So much has happened, I hardly know where to start. I suppose I will start with that realisation.

I have settled in at Work ever so slightly. The other teachers speak very limited english, for the most part. Further, they are absolutely terrified of me. I don't feel like I am that frightening, but sometimes they noticebly shake with nervousness or simply try to avoid interaction by turning away quickly or engaging in conversation with someone at just the right moment.

That said, several speak very good English and they all speak better english than they give themselves credit for. What's frustrating is when the teachers or students are so afraid that they become convinced there is no way for us to communicate. Sometimes the students will refuse to listen to a word in English, or refuse to attempt to understand, even when I can see in their eyes they understand at least some of what I have said. Some of the students are completely uninterested in me or learning english. Sometimes others try to understand and I fail to convey my meaning to them; those exchanges are the most disheartening because the students get disappointed in themselves.

I have already learned some things about teaching, such as the incredible power students have over the teacher. The teacher has to act like a stone wall when it comes to distractions and insults hurled their way, and yet she has to be interested, sympathetic, and engaged with the students for teaching to work at all.

I am most excited when students feel like I treat them as individual human beings, so I try to show genuine interest in what they talk about, music and sports and lunch. It was pretty cool that one of the kids burned me a CD of a Japanese group because I said was curious to hear it. But what that sort of interest does is make you vulnerable, because the students can make fun of your interests, personality, or simply spurn the interest you show in communicating with them. It is so immediately draining when a student ignores you, openly avoids or dislikes you, or simly refuses to communicate. It hits you hard, no matter what kind of stone front you pretend to put up.

Every day teachers open themsevles up to be used and abused by the students - because even the students simple disinterest hurts on a personal level. I just have to remind myself that a student's behaviour is not really directed at me, or simply a direct result of my teaching; instead, it emerges from my energy and teaching as well as his life and personality and mood and the weather outside and the colour of his socks (etc). This means that I cannot take complete credit for the enthusiastic students who are enjoying practicing english. But I can try to join in that energy, and try not to be too personally drained by my failures to interest or communicate.

My status with the teachers was somewhat improved when I scored our only goal in the staff soccer game. The other team (from another school) won 2-1, but we had a good time playing together. And the next morning I was greeted by a round of applause from the entire staff, who were slightly less afraid of me that day. It was really nice to be out there on the soccer field with them, because everybody forgot their fear and the language gap was no longer such a big deal. I hope to find an indoor team to play with for the winter, but no luck yet.

To return to and mitigate the contents of the Randomata, I heard a really awesome brit rock cover band in this little bar in Susukino (the party district). The owner of the band was the lead singer and guitarist, and the staff of the bar were all the other players. They did four sets over the course of the night, though the last (at 230am) was just for 4 of us gaijin (foreigners). I couldn't understand half of the words they said, but at least they were on key the whole time. And technically, they were unbelievably skilled.

It was such a crazy experience to be in this random little bar tucked away on the second floor of some random shopping centre in Sapporo, listening to this incredibly talented group of young Japanese guys rock the hell out of these british songs that likely sounded like gibberish in their minds, as latin did to me back in my choirboy days. They absolutley rocked the house. I just wanted to add this disclaimer, cause I don't want to be hating on all music in Japan. There is also some good rock and folkish/acoustic-pop on the radio that I can't get enough of.

I am in really good spirits right now, because I have just very much enjoyed my precious weekend. It was a different story by the end of the workweek last week.

I was exhausted almost to the point of incoherence: I couldn't even communicate with myself any more. I have been nervous about fitting in and doing well at work. Then there is interacting with the students, which is exhausting even when it goes well. Then there is going to bed at 12 or 1 and waking up at 6 every day. I left the house at 730 every morning, and I didn't get back until 630 most days, 730 others.

You have to try and fit in other things, like shopping, making yourself dinner, seeing friends, cleaning the house, not too mention relaxing a bit and having some down time, in that few precious hours you have after you finally change out of your work clothes.

Which reminds me: the stereotype of Japanese salarymen and societal overworking is true. The other teachers do not leave the office until on average 645 every day. The subways are swarming with people coming home from work at 830 and 9 at night.

Crazier still, in my mind, is how hard the kids work. Many students are also at school, for sports or clubs or extra classes, until 630 or 7 every day. Plus, they all have some school related activity, even if it is just sports, on Saturday.

All workers try not to take their holidays. They use them for sick days, or they take short three day holidays here and there so they don't inconvenience anyone. Imagine squeezing a family trip overseas in just 3 or 5 days. The entire country, as far as I know, operates with this workaholic mentality.

Something that really impresses me about the Japanese people is how they act when drinking and excited. I went to a Nippon-Ham Fighters (the sapporo baseball team) game on Saturday in the amazing Sapporo-Dome stadium that was built for world cup soccer a few years back. Walking into the stadium was incredible. I can't wait to watch a soccer game there.

But, more to the point, the fans were incredibly coordinated in their singing and cheering, which did not let up for the entire game. Every single player who came to bat had one of several songs directed at them; every play had some crowd response, but the bad plays and mistakes received no jeering. Most impressive: the alcohol was kept flowing, by attendents with keg-backpacks, the entire game. And yet, nobody got stupid or rowdy or violent or even SPILLY. Back home (beer + excitment = idiocy) and I was inevitably annoyed after any sporting event.

And the beer festival that occurs at Odori Park in the centre of Sapporo, out on the streets, with no police attendance, would in Vancouver necessarily be accompanied by a strong intimadatory police force with baton in hand - because people simply get stupid and violent.
AND - imagine this - at the end of the game, pretty much everybody picked up their own garbage and carried it away with them. Hardly a crumb was visible. In a stadium that seats tens of thousands, that is pretty damn impressive.

By the way, this was my first professional baseball experience. Mike (and everybody else), I'm sorry if I ever made fun of you or your beloved baseball. It was quite enjoyable.

Because I am rambling and need to sleep soon, I will end here. Let me just relay one of the most hilarious and enjoyable moments I have had since coming to Japan:

After the 5th inning, the teams left the field and a hundred or so toddlers, a few mascots, and some 10 cheerleaders lined up along the diamond. Some field crew came out to sweep up the bases and such. All of the former led the entire stadium in the singing and dancing of a bastardized remix of the YMCA by the village people.

The cheerleaders in their skimpy outfits, who were simultaneously inculcating the future generations in how to gain the approval of thousands of people, were all-too enticingly shaking their hips rhythmycally in front of the little devils. The mascots were amusing and absurd, as mascots always are, though I have a special affinity for them, having myself worn a moosesuit with a head so large I could not actually make the 'C' of the YMCA.

Then there were the thousands of people enthusiastically singing a half-english, half-japanese song largely meaningless to them. There was just so many layers of meaning and absurdity in the whole thing, I haven't quite unpacked it yet.

But, the icing on the cake was sweeter still. Towards the end of the song, the field crew all hefted their giant brooms and subsequently engaged in a ridiculously enthusiastic, well-coordinated and well-performed broom-swinging and feet-kicking dance to the chorus of YMCA, with unassuming children, absurd mascots, and half-naked women in tow. The multitudes in the stadium enjoyed the show as something very enjoyable, but completely normal and expected.

my garbage poetry

2007-09-05T23:21:00.000+09:00

Randomata: Different garbage is picked up four days a week, with 'burnables' repeated on tues and fri. First, you decide if a piece of trash is not 'burnable' but 'non-burnable'. If it's not 'burnable' and it's not 'miscellaneous non-recyclable non-burnable', clearly it is 'recyclable non-burnable', and then you simply have to differentiate it specifically from the various other not 'burnable' nor 'miscellaneous non-recyclable non-burnable' 'recyclable non-burnables'. But don't forget to separate any 'burnable' or 'miscellaneous non-recyclable non-burnable' parts of the 'recyclable non-burnable' (such as the cap off your bottle).

I'm not a salaryman: that I know for sure.
I'd rather be out living, that's what salary is for!

Neither am I fond of the ten hour crunch,
the two hour train, and thirty-five lunch.

I need to do dishes and vacuum and sweep,
exercise and socialize and hopefully sleep.

I work hard - I do! - I'm not just lazy.
But living to work is a little bit crazy.

me, my bread, and I

2007-09-02T22:29:00.000+09:00

Randomata: The bread here lacks a certain je ne sais quoi,.. except I do sais quoi. It lacks good taste, whole grains, and has an overabundance of sweetness and awful flavour. You can't find decent bread anywhere (which, back home, was my bread and..., umm, back home, uh, bread was my butter?)

Where to start? Has it been only a week since last I committed to blogpost my mindless prattling? It feels like a day - it feels like a month.

After an email wherein I complained of this or that defficiency or limitation in my personality, my sage father most wisely pointed out that wherever you go, you take the source of the most difficulty in your life: you.

Total Arnold buffs might Recall a certain film where a dream-vacation company offered a possible solution to this problem. Unfortunately, the reality crisis that ensued was nearly devestating to our dear Governator's psyche.

My point is not simply to talk about the huge defficiencies of Me, nor to bring back painful memories of the three breasted woman in Total Recall. However, I am surprised at the blending and occasional collision of the 'old' me and the as yet undiscovered 'me'.

For example, and to be possibly overly personal, I still fail to take initiative and control of my own life and near future. I still follow rather than plan, accept rather than suggest. This means that though I know I want to do something - say, go hiking - I don't just plan a day and go. I wait for somebody else to take the initiative, and I follow when invited. This is a bad way to be.
What do I plan for my long weekends up ahead? What do I plan for Christmas? Many people have already planned exciting trips months in advance to look forward to. I slog away in the day-to-day, head down and digging into the quotidian, and go weeks waiting for someone to take me on a fun hike somewhere.

I'm not trying to sound really negative and down on myself; I'm just trying to be honest.

Now, what's interesting in contrast is the fact that I am also doing all sorts of new and challenging things that I never knew I could do. In one way or another, for better or for worse, I spent the entire week working with Japanese junior high and highschool students who spoke varying amounts of no english whatsoever.

I stood up in front of 600 or so students, the staff, the principal, etc, of my school and gave a speech in Japanese...

I worked with a small group of 4 students for two days at an overnight english camp. They hardly said a word, but they still performed (sort of) in english their adaptation of a favored children's fable reworked as "The Three Little Triangles"...

I had a ten and a half hour workday on Wednesday, because I stayed after school to participate in the soccer club with about 25 12-15 year olds who ran the practice themselves, but were kind enough to let me play. And when they all stood in a circle around me waiting for parting words, I had no idea what would be a good, friendly, cool, respectful, teacherly, and comprehensible thing to say...

...later that night, a building-mate gave me a cooking lesson. Me! Cooking!...

I woke up at 6 o'clock almost every day during the week, which is just wrong. I went to bed at 7am last saturday, 4am ish on thursday and 3am ish on friday and saturday, for a variety of reasons, including two hours of red eye political discussion on thursday, three hours of karaoke on Friday, and I don't know how many hours of exploring the city (ie being lost) on Saturday night...

...oh, and I am going about my daily life, eating, shopping, etc, in JAPAN!!!

Anyways, not to ramble too much: hopefully the Me I brought with me is a source of not only difficulty and defficiency, but of potential and, what's another good cheesy word... adventure!

celebratory yeehaa

2007-09-02T22:25:00.000+09:00

YEeeeeeee HAaaaaaaaa.

My Saintly friend came over and said a prayer to the Gods of wires and world wide webs and now I am delightfully jacked up and online in the comfort of my home.

Now I can get even less sleep:)

hopefully spongebrained infantile lummox

2007-08-26T17:27:00.000+09:00

I can`t read or write, I don`t know how to speak, and I am just now learning how to cross the street safely. I am the mind of a child in an alien`s body wandering around a foreign land.

See, the language is different, they drive on the other side of the road and - ooh, ooh - I got my Alien Registration Card the other day, so I really am an alien now, woo hoo.

At times my ineptitude frustrates and at others entices: the immediate future holds unending learning for me, which is a pretty exciting thought.

In the meantime, I have to get used to people talking AT me and feeling rather dimwitted because, despite their best efforts and intentions, I have no idea what they are saying. Signing up for an internet cafe club card, the attendent anxiously stuttered the same word over and over again at me for about 30 seconds, not able to think of a better way to explain what that specific portion of form required: my date of birth! When paying later, I embarassed us both by complaining that I was overcharged for my time usage, not realising that she had included my sign-up fee in the price. Sigh.

I have always admired bi- and multi-linguists, and long since envisioned as one of my life goals the acquisition of another tongue. I guess this is my chance, because the desire to NOT feel stupid should be a strong motivator for me. There is a very basic level language profficiency test in December, so there I aim my sights. Tomorrow I meet a little old lady language instructor who will hopefully help toward that end.

More immediately, I get to practice my select and misremembered formal, polite phrases tomorrow when I have the first day at my real job, meeting the principal, staff, and students. The kocho-sensai (`principle,` I think) is a very important, intimidating, and aloof superior, even to long-term staff. Watashi wa kowai desu - I`m afraid.

to miss what once you loathed

2007-08-24T14:51:00.000+09:00

After four long years of English Literature at Uni, I miss Shakespeare - how crazy is that?!

I just finished reading Huxley`s `Brave New World,` wherein John the Savage criticizes civilization with his snippets of self-taught Shakespeare. I am quite excited to report that I had pangs of desire to read those of the Bard`s plays that I haven`t yet read, and even - hard to believe, I know - to reread some of those I have. Sadly, the Complete Works I was going to steal from my father and stuff in my bag was one of the ten or so books that simply could not fit. Othello, The Tempest; Macbeth and Hamlet once more: they shall have to wait.

That is, after all, the point of going away, right? To miss what once you loathed.

I am also very excited for my parents to visit at the end of September - NOT to say I loathed them before I left home. Again, I`m just saying that going away gives me the opportunity to miss them. Already more than before I look forward to each email and phone call from friends and family back home.

See, I`m trying to be only positive this post because, really, I do have a lot of positive things to say.

I have been enjoying my little set up immensely. I have started developping mini-routines for waking up in the morning, and meal times, and reading, and - did I mention I have a coffee maker? Caffeine bring man who push button much happiness.

I eagerly anticipate many new and exciting adventures over the course of the year. Primarily, just being here.
I also do want to learn some functional japanese literacy and vocabulary - which will be a long haul, I assure you.
Then there is teaching for the first time in my life, more on that later (term starts in two days).
Then there are the other adventures that the Hokkaido Association of people like me (HAJET) brings: specifically, a pan-Japan soccer tourny, a musical if I can get up the nerves and energy, and hopefully a Habitat for Humanity trip sometime in the spring, which is something I have always wanted to do.

Of course, I have yet to pay even my first months rent, so I have no idea how far my salary will actually stretch. And, I have yet to start my real job, teaching, which is the purported purpose of my being here in the first place.

It`s been basically three weeks since I left home, so if I came home after a year, it would be only 49 left before I went back! I am definitely not even thinking about whether I would want to stay another year or not, though some people are already swearing that one won`t be enough for them.
As I promised myself, I won`t even attempt to evaluate anything so large-scale as my life or the future until at least a month into living here. But with time in Tokyo and more orientation here in Sapporo, and then this liminal quasi-existence of not-really-working every day, I feel like I might need to wait for a month after school starts before evaluating what has, by then, been a real, lived month.

And yes, just pushing self-evaluation back a month, and then another month, and so on, is a method of living that can go on indefinitely. I have learned in the past, for me personally at least, that the less I evaluate and think philosophically, the better for the spirit of living in the moment, and the less existential angst.

toilets, trains, and migraines

2007-08-23T16:01:00.000+09:00

Ouch.

Ok, so being in Japan doesn`t stop me from getting migraines; that`s a little disappointing. We were heading from our meeting with a Board of Education bigwig, to go chat with a Global Issues highschool english club, having just stepped off the subway, when the familiar and detested splotchy patches appeared on my vision.

Follows: a squeamish sub ride home, 5 hours of the day wasted trying to sleep the pain and naseau away, then soreness, achiness, and just general unpleasantness which will linger all night and greet me the next morn as well.

But the subway system, at least, is quite remarkably efficient, though slightly expensive. The payment is electronic and easy, your trips recorded on the back of your prepurchased card; you don`t even have to slow down as the machine reads your ticket, though the turnstiles WILL rapidly swing shut their hip-level plastic mini saloon-style doors and barr your path if you try any shenannigans.
I think I mentioned already that the city only has three intersecting subway lines, but they can get you pretty much anywhere important lickity split without too much headache - unless you`re me, apparently.

Since I am here in the J-spot, and I haven`t pointed out any glaring exoticisms, I figured I should mention a few random things.

It is not just a stereotype: Japanese-style toilets truly ARE just a hole in the ground, that sort of looks like a half-buried, elongated and skinny toilet bowl which you somehow squat over, facing the wall, with your pants down, and do your business, with nothing to help hold you up, and without getting anything on your pants and feet. Many public places have at least one western style toilet though, thankfully. Toilets often have a tap above their fill-tank that runs after you flush, so you can wash your hands right there. I don`t understand this, because I usually like to get away from the toilet as fast as I can...

There is meat in EVERYTHING (though I don`t know why I go straight from toilet to food), even if it is not obvious from the label. It took a lovely grocery store till lady about 5 minutes to find the meat ingredients on some plain tomato pasta sauce I bought the other day. You buy a nice looking danish that would clearly taste awful with meat in it. You examine it carefully first, to make sure there isn`t any meat in it. Excited, you bite into it and think you have hit the jackpot, until you take your second bite and realise that the meat has been hidden in the very centre of the danish, cleverly and impossibly disguised to look like just more danish!!! People still look at me like I am crazy when I try to tell them I am a vegetarian.

One thing that I like is the Japanese predilection for drain-basins. The entire counter area of the kitchen is a shallow basin that will drain into the sink, which is actually quite convenient. In the bath, the tub takes up half the room, and a handheld shower head hangs from the wall beside it. But the entire floor of the bathing room slopes toward a drain in the middle, so you actually have tons of room to wash away the humidity-induced permasweat. Lastly, the cute little washing machine sits in its own little drain basin. I don`t have much to say about that; it`s just cute. Nobody has drying machines, so everything gets hung up outside. There is something very quaint and enjoyable about this whole process, not to mention its energy conservation.

All you can drink parties are the norm, which is strange as Japanese people (I hear) can`t actually hold their liquor very well. In any case, you pay your 20oo or 30oo or 40oo yen (if it comes with all you can eat), and then you have two hours to get stuffed and stupid. If it`s a club, you pay the cover charge and drink away the night. There are bars, but one drink is usually extremely expensive. All conbini (convenience stores) sell alcohol, some very cheap, so it is kinda like all you can drink, anywhere you go, at any time. So, if that`s your bag, this is the place to go.

Quiet time is 9pm. That`s that, so quiet down. If you aren`t quiet after 9pm, your neighbours above and below and around will call your supervisors and you should be very embarassed. I imagine it doesn`t happen that way for everybody, but that`s how it happens for us foreign assistant language teachers!

I feel like I am being a little bit negative right now. That might be influenced by my migraine yesterday, and by the fact that I am hurriedly trying to squeeze stuff in before I head home for the day. I have so many positive things to talk about, but they demand more patience and contemplation to formulate, so I guess I am just sort of leaving them out.

Hopefully I find some more time to write tomorrow, and I wil think of more randomata exotica as well.

sheep and technology

2007-08-17T13:46:00.000+09:00

I feel like a sheep.

I have been surrounded by fellow english-speaking teachers like myself, from around the world, since I got to Japan - most of whom, it seems, have far greater Japanese speaking and reading abilities than myself. The result is that I have been doing a lot of following, sitting in the back of the group, being a sheep. Whenever any new situation comes up, or anything moderately complicated needs doing, I have to let someone else do all the work for me. This has included early transportation and exploration of Sapporo, applying for our Alien Cards, reading mail (for bills), getting a bank account, ordering food at restaurants and, today, ordering the internet online, as well as pretty much everything else. Not to mention the fact that my apartment, my job, and my entire life for the next year have been planned by somebody else, down to the very route I will take twice a day, every day of the work week.

Now, I`m not exactly complaining. I simply could not have done a lot of this stuff without others there to help or, basically, to do it for me. And I shouldn`t be too mad that I know less Japanese than others who have studied it, been here before, or who have lived here for 5 years now (or 25) and speak it fluently.

Yet I do tire of being a sheep. I almost want to distance myself from the group because I feel like I have no power or independence in the constant herd of us moving around town. Plus, having everything done for me and following other people around means I learn nothing, or at least, I learn a lot more slowly than I would on my own. If I were here on my own, or stationed in a small town, every step of getting my life set up would be in my own hands. I would have to learn the words I need to get by, instead of just hearing someone else use them.

On the plus side, to switch out of the negative tone, having competent Japanese speakers around meant that I could order the internet today, and I should be hooked up in my home in two to three weeks.

Along those lines, I was plugging in all of my rechargeables yesternight, and I suddenly realised the extent of my personal technological acquisition and transformation. Whereas a month ago I had nothing battery powered, I now have:
1. an intense digital camera (which has received many an `ooh` and many an `aah`);
2. a laptop (which has many AWESOME photos waiting to be uploadeded, and should be useful once my apartment is wired up);
3. an iPod shuffle (which rocks and, by the way, makes an awesome necktie pin);
4. and a hot cell phone.

The cell phone in particular is a big change for me, as I have essentially boycotted them for the last 4 years. See, I have mixed feelings toward ipods and cell phones, because it seems people are constantly running away from the moment, constantly disconnected from their immediate surroundings. People with plugs in their ears are generally less approachable than those without, and ignore the world passing by; people txt msging and chatting on their phones aren`t really focusing on the friends that currently surround them. I have already caught myself writing emails and messages on my cell, losing track of what`s going on around me, which seems disrespectful as well as... I don`t know, it`s just not very harmonious, not very zen!

Woops, hopefully you just slipped over that diatribe rather than feel any of the venom was directed toward you. After all, contrary to what I just said, the cell phone has allowed me a facile connectivity and spontaneity severely lacking in my personality, even in the first week I`ve had it. And listening to music when you enjoy a jog, or some beautiful scenery flowing by on your commute, can actually offer a heightened experience, often hard to attain in the silence or stifling thoughts of my mind.

So, yeah, I have mixed feelings about it all. Except my camera.
That I just love!

I have so much to say but this post is already long and rambling. I haven`t even mentioned the crazy sudden shift from deathly hot and humid to misty and chilly. Two days ago, the heat was painful; that night, the heat wave clung to life, sweltering until four in the morning before suddenly and noticeably succumbing to the cool winds of a new weather system moving in from the mountains. Interestingly - unfortunately - the heat is due to return in a day or two.

I also didn`t mention working with some more Japanese students yesterday, nor attending the Obon Lantern Festival in Nakagima-koen (a beautiful park downtown). I only felt a little out of place as I followed the line of locals, released a floating candle down a gentle stream, then folded my hands and contemplated my ancestors. I mean, I thought about thinking about them, anyway. The chanting of the monks at the beginning of the ceremony was beautiful, despite the incongrous hum of the portable gas generators; the lamps flowing in a line down the stream were majestic, despite the metallic sheen off the industrial scaffolding that formed the ceremonial bridge. Truly, despite my unnecessarily pointing out these contrasting juxtapositions, it was beautiful.

And there`s much else yet unmentioned!

I`m alive!!

2007-08-13T12:12:00.000+09:00

I feel distanced and disconnected.

I haven`t had a chance to send emails or check my facebook or write in my blog or talk to my family and friends in about a week, and I`m starting to freak out!

So far I`ve been okay, but the lack of connectivity is wearing on me. I could go to a internet cafe (they`re very nice, with comfy chairs, tons of snacks, sometimes even the possibility of staying all night and having a shower) but I`ve been counting on being able to use the internet at work. However, today, my first day at the office, I can`t figure out how to connect my computer to the wireless network here, so I can`t put up the posts and pictures that I have on my personal laptop. I`m using one of their laptops, with a slightly different keyboard and none of the materials I want to work with. It will probably be a few weeks, maybe a month at the outside, before I actually have internet in my home.

So, as a short update, I`m alive. In fact, everything has been going quite well. We haven`t done any real work yet, and we haven`t been spending much time with Japanese people, mostly just with fellow JETs. We hiked up a local mountain/hill yesterday and got an awesome view of the city and the surrounding mountains. I have been quite fine so far, living on my own for the first time, but I think that I will start to feel lonely and disconnected if I can`t pretend to talk to people online in the comfort of my home.

Hopefully I`ll figure out how to hook up my laptop, so I can show off all the fun I`ve been having so far!

reflections on a life left behind

2007-08-06T18:02:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Plan an adventure and live as if stalked by death (and I mean that in a good way)

I sit cross-legged on the bed in my room on the 15^th of 50 some-odd floors that make up the 5-star Keio Plaza Hotel, downtown Tokyo, Japan. I enjoy the air-conditioning, and reflect.

The month before leaving was an incredible time for me. Knowing about my upcoming trip gave me endless energy and enthusiasm to enjoy life to its fullest. It was kinda like knowing you’re going to die, so you live every day like it’s yours last, but far less moribund. You know: carpe diem versus memento mori, the same but different, six of one, half a dozen of the other, you say potato, I say apple of the earth.

Anywho. Every day was awesome. I saw more people than I would ever normally see, and I enjoyed my time with them even more than normal because I had so much energy to put into it, and I was determined to absorb their presence as much as possible, every minute I had left with them.

I did more activities than I would ever normally do. The Juan de Fuca Marine Trail was the most challenging and out-of-the-box of them all. But other opportunities that I would normally turn down or pass up for later, I eagerly accepted. Dinners, parties, going out on the town, seeing movies, going hiking, going shopping, seeing the fireworks.

Of course, this hedonism entailed much increased expenditure of income that was no longer in-coming, and was enabled by my recently dis-employed status. The fact that I was determined to have only a certain amount to bring to the J-spot with me, and that I simply accepted the necessity of spending on new clothes, equipment, etc, meant that I splurged like never before. My camera alone is an expensive expense I would not otherwise have considered, were it not for the exotic, exciting, eye-opening nature of my then impending trip to and life in Japan.

Just like the Juan de Fuca trip, I can’t convey what it felt like to live through the experience of life up to my leaving. I had confidence and energy like never before, was less reserved, less hesitant, less miserly and less miserable than ever before, and appreciated my life and the people around me in a way I hadn’t felt before.

This past little while, life has been awesome.

The trick will be to maintain that energy, confidence, and willingness now that my departure has occurred, and my ultimate destination for the next year, Sapporo, has almost been reached.

3:33am, T-Minus 9 Hours 12 Minutes

2007-08-04T19:33:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Procrastination was fine in university, but don't employ it universally.

I'm an idiot.

I know it's early in the post to be repeating myself, but upon realisation of the magnitude of my idiocy, I feel the revelation bears reiteration: if you couldn't tell already (because it was news to me) I'm a huge idiot!

I had not spent ONE minute prior to today (actually, now it's yesterday) attempting to pack my luggage. In fact, prior to today I didn't even know which luggage I would be using. Actually, I'm still not really sure which luggage I'll ultimately be taking with me.

I spent all morning gathering my belongings from around the house, as well as throwing nearly all my clothing into the laundry (three loads). Eventually, I amassed a large pile of my miscellany upon my bed and stared at it in confused horror. Then I proceeded to attempt to stuff said miscellany into my clearly too small duffel bag-thingamajig.

In the middle of the day, we had a JET meeting to receive our tickets and passports back. Surprisingly this was the first time we actually found out when our flight leaves tomorrow/today. (-Oh, and my criminal check was in the JET office, buried deep in their pile of growing miscellany.) I could have simply checked the airport website, but that thought never occured to me. So, interestingly, neither my doting mother nor devoted father will be able to attend the usual Airport Farewell. Fortunately my awesome eldest brother has both the desire to accompany me to my departure and the vehicular means to enable transport thereto.

By the way, I know 'thereto' is a really dorky word, but at this time of night/morning, I think my imagined audience can forgive me.

I don't know what else to say, really. I'm in an absolutely bizzare, but calm, content disposition presently. You know, 'it hasn't sunk in yet.' Not quite real yet. Imminent, yet still hard to believe.

I will write a post more thoughtfully reflecting back upon this past few weeks, perhaps killing some of the 10 hour flight to Narita, Tokyo. For now, mostly I wanted to impress a warning upon any other likeminded idiots out there with a procastinatory academic modus operandi: you can B.S. your way through a paper the night before it's due without too much trouble; however, you can't B.S. baggage into being bigger. Plan ahead, pack earlier.

this is no time for blogging!!

2007-08-04T02:22:00.001+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Pack sooner!

I need to clean up my room, my crap, my garage.
Should I have bought another tie or two?
Orientation meeting today.
Dinner tonight.
I leave tomorrow.
I need to pack-
how the hell am I going to pack?

No time!

Eeep!

busy

2007-08-02T05:36:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: The week before you go is not 7 days, but 168 hours to the minute.

For Example:

8:30am - 12pm Finish some landscaping in the yard of a nice lady I do some work for.

12pm - 1:30pm Do a 'rapid shop' buying (only) TWO articles of clothing and a plug adapter, in case I do end up needing it, and subsequently freaking out once more about spending too much money and reconsidering whether my appearance actually IS important and I SHOULD be spending this much money on clothes. Also, while at the mall, exchange some dollars into Yen, provoking many thoughts about my insufficiently thought out banking/credit/money situation.

1:30-1:50 ish Write a BlogPost while simultaneously trying to contact the Consulate of Japan because the JET coordinator cannot locate my criminal records check, even though I know it's in their office somewhere.

1:50-2:30pm Probably go to the police station and request another crminal records check, somehow making them rush it so it only takes a day this time, instead of the 10 in the snailmail it took last time, so that I can take it with me to pre-departure seminar on Friday and I am allowed to go to Japan after all.

2:30pm-3:30pm Have some lunch, get back to reading one of those japanese 'historical novels' because I stayed up till 2am the other day finishing the Deathly Hollows.

3:30-6ish Visit with cousin-friend, for a hike or coffee or something, deep conversation, and a heartfelt farewell.

7ish - 11ish Visit with Juan de Fuca companion, possibly going to fireworks, possibly simply seeking that quality time that is so hard to come by.

11-1am Get my bag out and stuff some stuff into it to see just how much stuff I should be able to stuff in my luggage.

I'm pretty sure yesterday was busier, though.

frantic farewells

2007-07-31T15:35:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Time won't stop on account of your departure; neither will life become less hectic for you or your friends.

My departure imminent, I spend two days running around Vancouver Island, trying to spend some quality time with my sister. Of course, she's got a million things going on - what with buying a house and all - so she's preoccupied as heck. Then when the tire on her car suddenly needs to be replaced, our final quality time is actually interrupted and ended as she heads to Canadian Tire, and my mother and I head to wait in BC'S Famous Ferry Line-Up.

I guess all I'm saying is the fact that you (ie me) are leaving does not make other people's lives instantly quiet down; they can't drop everything to spend time with you and focus on your upcoming adventure.

Likewise, even if you take a month off work, and commit to spending large amounts of time in relaxation and contemplation, you will still be rushed and frantic a lot of the time as you prepare for your journey. Life has been awesome, very enjoyable, this last month off from work, but it hasn't been slow.

I think the upcoming week provides me a chance to see all the people I want to see; in fact, tears began falling already in some of the preliminary goodbyes. I tried my best, and my friend and I managed to agree to save our tears for the actual last visit together, which will occur as close to Saturday as possible. Hopefully without sounding callous, I've discovered that the closer you are to people, the later you say goodbye to them. Acquaintances might bid you farewell for a week or two in passing. Friends you'll probably see around a week before. Close friends rate a good two days previous. Family and or significant other, of course, deserve both the evening before and the day of - saying goodbye at the last possible minute, at the airport.

the preliminary goodbye begins

2007-07-28T10:14:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Plan time for farewell's and snailmail.

Every hour counts!

I'm trying to find time to finish off my last minute shopping (still don't have nice clothes for work, or a nice formal suit, or a gift for my supervisor when I get there) and frantically trying to schedule in meetings with friends and family. Life has a way of keeping people busy, but there's no simply putting off that beer or coffee or walk or chat when there's only ONE WEEK LEFT! When a dear friend rainchecked last night, we both nearly started panicking because we might not be able to find any time to meet before I go.

It's doubly hard to be motivated to finish my runaround errands because I'm so relaxed after my hiking trip, and I'm so confident that everything will work out that it seems I almost expect everything to wrap itself up (which it won't).

I also didn't realise how close I cut it with a couple things:
My car - just lucky my friend is interested, because clearly two weeks of advertising was not enough to sell it.
My driver's licence - had to renew, and should just barely get it in the mail in time before I go, and in time to get my international license.
My camera - just got in the mail, but if anything had happened at the factory or the border to delay, I simply might not have got it in time.
My laptop - my dad just discovered a problem with the new-to-me laptop he's giving me, because I didn't pester him sooner to hurry up and prepare it for me. It was easy for him to fix, but if we'd waited any longer, it might have been discovered by computer-illiterate me.

I'm not too mad at myself, because I've stayed fairly composed so far, and I do think I'll be able to get it all done in time. It is DEFINITELY frantic right now trying to squeeze people in or fit around their schedule's.

By the way, I am quite in nonromantic love with my new camera, and I haven't even given the price a second thought since I turned it on and started taking pictures.

soaking wet and it's suddenly soon

2007-07-25T14:12:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Plan a Distraction Vacation

Well, I survived.

[Next three paragraphs describe my backpacking camping trip.]
I just returned today from the Juan de Fuca Marine Trail on Vancouver Island. All told, we hiked about 50km's in 5 days, with about 50 pounds on our backs. After weeks and weeks of sun, this weekend poured record amounts of rainfall on the Juan de Fuca trail, concentrated especially in the 500 square metres above our heads. My friend had the flu so bad that she puked, couldn't sleep, couldn't really eat, and for a day or two could hardly walk. We were hiking on slippery rocks, logs, leaves, and as often as not mud as deep as our ankles - or sometimes our KNEES! Rainy logging roads meant the shuttle that was supposed to pick us up was late, and suddenly we had to stay the night in a hotel because we missed the last Ferry back to Vancouver.

The good news is that, somehow, I had an awesome time. My friend was amazingly determined and spirited considering the mud up to her thighs, rain the tent could barely keep out, and the vomit in the sand next to the tent. And I'm simply not going to mention the mosquitos, because then I'll start itching again. We were well prepared in terms of equipment, so I guess our guidebook "Giant Cedars, White Sands" worked well.

It was a personal challenge to not only make the distance, but to keep a smile on (almost) the whole trip despite the dampening circumstances. The trip was a success, and I look forward to more in the future.

What's really nice is that I haven't been stressed about Japan for over a week now! Planning for this hike helped distract me (as well as my funds, for better or worse) from J-Spot prep and stress, and I couldn't spare a thought for Japan the entire time we were out in the rainy woods. So, I recommend planning a small Distraction Vacation before embarking upon a long journey or far reaching adventure.

Of course, suddenly the J-Spot is a mere TEN DAYS away. No matter what you do, something like that will sneak up on you with lightning speed; if you go away for a week, it comes even faster!

What have I accomplished since my last post?
-Ordered camera online (should arrive soon, with a kick ass wide angle through telefoto lens)
-might sell my car to a friend, which is what I wanted in the first place (because she (the car) will be treated better that way)
-Got my mom to buy some clothes for me (some even have name brands on the tags and, for a change, NONE have been worn before by brothers or Sally Ann others)
-Bought a few random articles for gifts and novelties when I get to Japan (Canadian stickers, playing cards, pens)

What have I NOT accomplished?
-HAVEN'T been practicing my japanese language (Nihongo) books, at all. I have been reading two 'historical fiction' novels (both probably stretching the strictest parameters of that genre label): Gai-Jin by James Clavell, and Harpoon by C.W. Nichols.
-HAVEN'T finished buying all my clothes, including a suit and some work clothes.
-HAVEN'T researched any more into Sapporo's history, or climate, or any random info that might be interesting or useful once I get there.
-HAVEN'T started practising eating Japanese food.
-HAVEN'T finished getting gifts, souvenirs, gimmicks, teaching aids, etc.
-HAVEN'T thought anymore about how I'm going to pack, when the flight is, etc.

I couldn't give you a whole list of what I haven't done!
But now I must go fold clothes that, after two washes with extra rinses and extra soap, hopefully, but not likely, no longer stink like sweat and detritus.

stressed but blessed

2007-07-15T12:55:00.001+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Research and rethink to avoid returning important purchases (ex camera)

To add to my last post:

I undid what I did, that is, I decided to unmake the decision that I didn't really make when I bought both an SLR and a compact camera. I took them both back. I'm going to buy the same Nikon from a site called digicombo.com - sounds sketchy, I know - because it comes with way more stuff for the same price. I might just hold off on a compact to save that bit of extra dough. Or I might go down and buy a waterproof one, which would be even more expensive. See, the new Olympos is waterproof up to 30 feet and shockproof up to five!!!!! How can one resist? (Again, not getting paid for product placement, but if anybody wants to pay me for some, I can use every dollar...)

Despite my self-indoctrination in karmic financial philosophy, I have definitely been getting more and more stressed about money concerns, and the big camera bill jumped my stress levels even higher.

For years now I've tried to be independent in terms of financing my life (besides not paying rent... and not paying for food...ah hem), but I may have to accept a bit of generosity from my extremely devoted parents. The good news is that I'll have great camping gear, great camera gear, a laptop, and some nice clothes, which will just have to last me the next 5 years because I'll have no savings, no investments, and probably just enough income to survive:)

Some other things that aren't all peachy in J-Spot prepland:

First, I tried Chapter One in the language textbook sent to us from the JET Programme. I've been working through another language book a little bit, and somewhat enjoying it, so I thought I'd try the JET book as well.
After five minutes, I slammed the book down in frustration and stormed out of my room thinking that I'll never learn a word of Japanese. The accompanying CD has people speaking Japanese, and you're supposed to fill in the blanks, pretty simple, you know. But I couldn't catch a single word, let alone fill in any blanks.

I've also started stressing about how little time I have left, for several reasons.
Most importantly, I won't get to see all the friends/family/random people I wanted to visit with before I go, because some aren't even in the city.

Randomly, I won't get to participate in my roller hockey play-off finals because they occur the week I leave.

I'm stressed because I still have stuff I want to buy, for my Juan de Fuca trip in three days, as well as for Japan. AND I am having trouble dealing with my car, which I've tried selling and giving away.

I've started (probably prematurely)stressing about how little baggage we can take on the plane, and just what exactly I will take with me.

Most generally, I can't believe I am leaving Vancouver when it is so incredibly beautiful, day after day after day. The people, the landscape, the cityscape: it all shines with vibrant beauty and glows with youthful exuberence. I love Vancouver in the summer - it's the reward for surviving the TEN dreary rain-filled months.

On a more positive note:
Another thing I wanted to expand on from my last post: my rent. I'm not sure I conveyed just how excited I am to be renting an apartment in Sapporo, Japan, for the more than reasonable price of $300. Even if it did turn out to be a 5 feet by 5 feet cubby hole, I wouldn't care! I need to say (and remind myself) how fortunate I am to have this opportunity. I am very grateful for the JET programme (flying me to Japan), and to the Sapporo Board of Education (helping to pay for me to LIVE in Japan). I'm not trying to score brownie points with these organisations, because I doubt they'll ever read this blog. Like I said, though, I feel like life and the world are treating me very well right now; I simply don't want to take it for granted. Even having parents kind enough and able to help me out is certainly a cause for great appreciation.

I'm agnostic at best, so I have no deity to whom I should send my praise. Maybe my karmic autoindoctrination is paying off, because I want to send a big "Thanks!" out into the world in general.

Money news: Good and Bad

2007-07-12T02:59:00.001+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Expect the ensuing panic, but accept the inevitability of spending

I shouldn't let money be my only concern, as even if I do end up a little bit poor, the experiences of preparing myself for Japan and actually living in a new place will definitely be worth it.

The last few months, I've been living what is, for me, a fairly expensive lifestyle, probably living beyond my means, really. I'm not going to lie: I've enjoyed it. Going out lots, doing fun stuff like camping and whatnot, on top of spending muchos for the Juan de Fuca Trail and with more yet to be spent for Japan.

I've tried to let a karmic philosophy endow this spending with virtue and ease my worries. Money is like positive energy that I send out into the world, when I spend on myself or on others. If I don't cling possessively to it, the energy/money will circulate and, in times of need, return. On top of that, my father always taught me that you need to seek the lifestyle you want to live, and then find a way to work towards (affording) that lifestyle. This instead of simply letting your current bank account totals dictate the lifestyle you will adopt. Everything has been working out really well for me the last few months, and consequently I have a lot of trust in the world/fate at this moment.

For example, my friend and I wanted to head to the U.S.A. to camp for a night, but she didn't have her passport or other suitable documents. We decided to stay in country, and camp in Hope. However, in the morning, in the five minutes I was at her house to pick her up, about 30 seconds before we drove away, a mailman walked up to the car and said he had a package to deliver. It was her passport! We had a nice night down in Point Roberts, Washington, USA.

With coincidences like this, I hope, I believe, that my finances will all work out OK.

With that said, there is good news, and there is bad news.

BAD NEWS: I finally made a decision about cameras, or, rather, I DIDN'T make a decision. I wanted a Digitial SLR for quality and a compact DigiCam for convenience and rather than choose... I simply bought both. The result was a $1400 bill at Future Shop that got me all the accessories I need to head to the J-Spot tomorrow and start merrily clicking away. Even though I spent Waaayyyy too much, at least I'm doing J-Spot prep, right?

I was very happy playing around with my Nikon D40x yesterday evening (by the way, I'm not getting money for product placement, I swear). I also toyed around with my Pentax Optio M30 - who new such a tiny camera could be 7 megapixels! Truthfully, a tiny camera with 7mps would take very high quality pictures, and I really don't need the 10mp Nikon SLR... but 'need' is such a complex term.

And, of course, I woke up this morning freaking out because I spent a quarter of my puny savings on appareils photo (Ha - the direct translation of 'Digital camera' is actually 'appareil numerique': Caitie, you better read this posting!) That Nikon camera means less doing other activities, though hopefully nothing so dire as less eating. Does photography really take up a quarter of my life, to deserve a quarter of all my energies employed toward saving money? Probably not. Hmmm. 15 day return policy, but I already love the camera.

GOOD NEWS: I finally found out my rent. With a partial subsidy, the rent works out to around 30,000 yen, or say $270 canadian. I'm not 100% sure whether that includes utilities or not. The appartment sounds nice, and I'm quite happy with that rent. Oh, and it's actually big enough for two people (I think), so if you're coming to Sapporo, and you're not a weirdo, and especially if you know how to cook well, come stay with me!

home is where you cook your breakfast...

2007-07-08T13:47:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Set your expectations high but remember: You CHOOSE to need to buy.

Yup, I know the address of my apartment in Sapporo and I finally got emailed from its previous tenant (JET is great for hooking you up with former participants to learn from their experiences). Apparently, it is plenty spacious for one individual, and has the requisite fixtures: a stove, a washer, a microwave, even a TV - though I wasn't so concerned about the last.

I've already received quite a few emails from former ALT's (assistant language teachers )trying to lighten their material loads and sell off their possessions that won't fit in a suitcase. I've decided to basically wait till I get to Japan and see what appliances/etc I have a serious need for. So far, I've been sorely tempted by a coffee maker, a snowboard, and a really cool futon/bed.

I don't actually snowboard, or ski, despite having grown up on a ski hill. However, Sapporo is surrounded by skihills (from the sound of it), so I thought maybe I could try and become a little more adventurous and alpine inclined. If I don't have the energy, opportunity, or funds to get involved with the speedier of those pursuits, I thought maybe I could get into snowshoeing, which better suits my patient personality, which is well adapted to hikes and long treks in general. I'm not a huge thrill seeker, though I've been trying to work on that as well.

Returning to living conditions, I'm not too worried about the size or even condition of my apartment. I've never lived on my own before, so I don't have the pain of past squallor to temper my enthusiasm for having a place, ANY place, of my own. I am a little concerned about my rent, which sum I have yet to find out.
Hmmm. I have a lot of thoughts tonight. Two other quick points:

One: concerning my financial concerns, I realised that all the shopping lists and budgets I made for myself are over and above what I already own. Worst comes to worse, I could leave tomorrow, taking only what I have, and probably get by OK. Yes, I want a laptop. Yes, I want a camera. And Yes, I want a new, 'cooler' wardrobe. But all these things I want because I have set my expectations so high. I'm not saying my high expectations are bad, I'm merely saying I should moderate my worry with a reminder of the voluntary nature of some of these expenses.

Two: I talked to someone who just got back from four months working in the J-Spot. Basically all he had to comment on was the immense expense of... EVERYTHING! Pretty much everbody I talk to contributes to the stereotype of extremely high living costs in Japan, which can't help but lend the rumour credence. In short, I've got to dump any thrifty tendencies I may have had and accept that money is like water, it may flow through your hands, but it never really belongs to you. Of course, if you knew how much I was spending on equipment for my Juan de Fuca hike, you might remind me that I don't seem to have any thrifty tendencies to get rid of - in which case I'm all the more ready for the J-Spot.

meat, plastic and morality

2007-07-05T15:39:00.000+09:00

Sojourner's Highlight: Time off from work allows for relevant contemplation and necessary relaxation. Entertain notions of paradigm shifts ahead of time; how flexible will you be?

Yay! I finished work yesterday, which means I have the next month off to prepare, play and to squander the meager savings I've amassed. And, so as to not feel unproductive, I wanted to get a good jump on actually DOING something in prep, instead of just writing about thinking about going about doing something about my trip.
To that end, I mailed in my Japan Visa application, and also posted my car for sale on craigslist. Sniff. I'm gonna miss my baby. (1996 Chevrolet Cavalier, ~$2500 if you're interested :)

I also browsed for cameras in a couple of shops. {Following paragraph deals entirely with camera confusion, just so you know} I love the feel and quality of SLR's, but I'm thinking a small compact digital might be better for travelling, as you can just slip it in your pocket wherever you may go. The Digital SLR, on the other hand, would require constant consideration and lugging around in a seperate bag. And if I'm doing something adventurous, say, going out to a club, or snowshoeing, or something, am I gonna want to take along a large, pricey, and fragile SLR? Quite possibly not. But when I hold one of those point and click digicams in my hands and look at the LCD screen I feel like i'm holding some expensive and extremely high-tech dirty diaper in my hand. It just feels like an insult to the beauty of photography, even if a testament to the age of technological revolution.
{Anywho, enough about cameras.}

I also [pat on back] went shopping for clothes. Now, I went to a thrift store, which may or may not be defining or representing myself in exactly the way I want. However, I do enjoy reducing unnecessary garbage, and lots of these clothes are perfectly good. Plus, I obviously saved a bunch of money, while still getting some pants and shoes that I think will be appropriate for work. Perhaps this is all too much info. Oh well.

What really stuck out about my day, though, was when I refused the plastic bag at the store. See, I don't take new plastic bags from stores, just like I don't use paper cups from coffee shops. As I was walking out the store, though, I remembered reading a book about how highly packaged all commodities - everything! - is in Japan. And I thought to myself, I'm not going to be able to save on packaging and wrapping and bags and whatnot in the J-spot. Here it's easy because of the chic cultural concern for it. Over there, the excessive wrapping is part of the aesthetic (or so I've read).

And that got me thinking once more about trying to be a vegetarian in Japan. Apparently it's possible, and you can always fall back on the 'it's part of my religion' line that they suggested at the JET seminar. But I'm not very good at saying No when people offer me food. And it's going to be really hard to be picky if people invite me out to dinner, and even more so if they invite me into their homes for dinner. Also, as one JET peer commented, a huge part of culture IS food, so cutting off a huge portion of the diet cuts out truly immersing yourself in the culture. But am I, as i suggested last posting, ready to lose myself in learning about this other culture? Because not eating meat is important to me at this point in life, and I would have to knowingly sacrifice my own values to eat meat in Japan.

Packaging, waste, and meat-eating are, of course, only a few of such concerns - the ones I've thought of so far - and perhaps even the least of those I shall encounter.

In other news, I finished the Hesse book I was reading, played a hockey game, and painted part of my fence. For brief periods at a time, NOT working is far better than working, and I highly recommend it to anybody who is considering it.

Blessings and Warnings

2007-07-04T16:22:00.000+09:00

Usually when I tell somebody that I'm going to Japan, they have a friend or family member who has already done the same. Usually I'm told that it was an amazing experience, worthwhile, fantastic, eye-opening, life-changing, etc. I'm always glad to hear that, of course.

Yet, I also get my fair share of less positive responses. Some people look at me like I'm crazy. Some people immediately embark upon vicarious horror stories of exchanges gone wrong and overseas teaching adventures much regretted. I don't mind these stories too much, as it's probably good to keep my fantastical imagination grounded in coloured reality and accept that there WILL be challenges, or even the possibility of immense difficulty. Something could go wrong, though the fine repute of this particular exchange program should preclude any major financial or contractual mishaps.

Wo. I need to sound way less pompous in my writing. Sorry, I've been reading Herman Hesse, who uses so many striking words and poetically crafted sentences; my years of training at University have poked many holes in my brain to turn it into a sponge that absorbs and spits out other peoples ideas and, apparently, writing styles. Not that I'm comparing my writing ability to Hesse. Ok, digression complete, back to J-Spot concerns.

What's worse than these horror stories, however, are the random warnings with no background context. For example, 'they'll treat you like crap.' Or, 'you'll lose yourself out there.' What else, hmmm. 'If life's not good enough for you here...' (and yes, somehow they included a ... in their spoken warning.)

In all these cases, I'm not sure if the people are xenophobic, or speaking from personal bad experiences, or what. All I know is the random warnings - threats almost - really frustrate me. I'm trying to be openminded, and I'm trying to accept advice and info from anybody who offers (just as a general practice in life). But that means every once and a while I'm confronted by some fearful and bigotted statement that just makes me angry/disappointed in the speaker, while at the same time ever so slightly increases my own anxieties.

I just got another warning tonight about the Japanese mafia coming after me. See, I didn't really take it seriously, or personally, but I still had to unwillingly absorb some of the negativity and fear couched in this ridiculous statement.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to accomplish with this. I want people to tell me what they've heard and what I should expect but I don't need their negativity and fear, especially when it's based on no experience whatsoever. The whole POINT is to lose myself out there, to be squashed by whatever I encounter, in order to see how I truly shape up, in order to find myself. (sorry about the cheesy line). (and sorry about ending on a chessy line).

a couple o' caveats

2007-07-03T14:05:00.001+09:00

First of all, this is my first foray into the wonderful world of blogs, and so, while I promise to strive for entertainment value as well as honesty, I make no contractual agreements as to the quality of this blog.

I hope that this blog will be interesting and maybe even useful to other people teaching overseas, or even going to Japan with the JET Programme. I hope it's interesting to some other random people as well.

However, second on this list of caveats, but first and foremost in my mind (once I get all this introduction stuff out of the way) I need to write this blog for my own sake, and not only attempt to cater to an imagined audience.

Subsequent to that statement, and third on this list, I need to start trying to write with shorter, less awkward sentences.

And so... where do we stand thus far? I am not only excited for Japan but beginning to get nervous. I am not yet nervous about the whole 'stranger in a foreign land' thing. So far, I have only started worrying about money, and about possessions and packing. I will likely have less than the recommended $3000 when I set foot in the J-spot, and that's before I pay my first month's rent. And THEN I have to survive two to three weeks until my first paycheck!

Yet, before I can even really start worrying about that worry, I have to worry about buying all this stuff I need, including: a laptop, a Digital camera (SLR or compact, still can't decide!), tons of tooth paste and deodorant, plus, an entirely new wardrobe because all of my clothes are 5-year-old handmedowns and whoknowswhats from Nowhere Inc that I probably shouldn't even be wearing in public.

You see, since I'm trying to 'realise' my life and start growing up, I figure I should make this trip a starting point and get out of all these embarrasing clothes. You know, tailor the way you look on the outside to both represent and to shape the way you think and feel on the inside. My wise and well dressed brother taught me that, or something like that, and I also thank him for suggesting this whole blogging venture.

In terms of preparation for Japan, well, the more the better. To that end, I've done not very much whatsoever. I did, I suppose, take an anthropology of Japan course at university. I've read a total of 5 books about Japan, and some random chapters in other textbooks about Shintoism, and Buddhism. I've looked up random facts about Japan on the internet. I've tried quite unsucessfully to be disciplined in practicing the Japanese Language from a self-teaching book over the last couple months. All of this is to say that I know next to nothing about the J-spot and I am exceedingly ill-prepared for the journey.

What I do have [cue combatitive optimism]: fond memories from a brief highschool trip to Japan; a personality generally calm under stress; growing curiosity about the world; determination to have a challenging and enlightening experience; I'm tall. I know that last lacks a certain poetic nobility, but I've heard it has a big impact on the treatment travellers can expect.

I must also divulge another adventure that diverts my thoughts and doubles my worries: a four day hiking trip on the Juan de Fuca trail on Vancouver Island. I love the outdoors, but I've never done a multiday hike before. This, my first, is happening mid-July and so I am having to rush around preparing for that, while the expected stresses of planning for both trips compound and expand.

There, I've got all that off my chest, and now I need to go read some Herman Hesse, which boggles and calms in turns.

a journey not yet begun

2007-07-01T14:50:00.000+09:00

You never know how you will start until after you've already begun. And so, to remove that uncertainty as soon as possible, I begin.

To cut to the proverbial chase, the purpose of this blog will be to act as a personal record of my experiences, as well as provide others the ability to share in those experiences, if for some strange reason they desire to do so, which I doubt will be the case after they read this incredibly generic introductory sentence about the purpose of blogs.

My 'experiences,' to be more specific, shall centre around an exciting new development in my life: moving to Japan for (at least) a year to teach and to learn. Once flown to Japan by the government-funded JET Programme, I will be teaching the closest approximation to English that I can muster. Concurrently, I will be learning... everything else. I have so much to learn about the world around me, and I am very excited to start at the opposite end of the Earth and work my way back home over the course of my lifetime. I have so much to learn about myself, and so much of myself to formulate as I grow up and move out and move on.

Hopefully you sense the sense of potential with which I attempt to imbue my words. At this point in my life, I am trying to realise - you know, to truly feel, in my breath and my bones - how much of life lies before me, undetermined potential that craves definition.

On the other hand, I need constantly remind myself that life is not only potential to be explored later, but also the excitation of that potential in every instant. In that regard, I am super stoked to begin my adventures in Japan, affectionately though perhaps not humourously known to me by the appellation J-Spot.

BUT, as far as the J-Spot is concerned, my adventures are a month away since I do not leave until August 4th. And so, all this blog can be until then is an account of my anxieties and, perhaps, hopefully, of my preparations mental and physical for said approaching adventures.

In other words: Holy moly, I'm Going to the J-Spot!