Quick update: I'll be in Philadelphia from Dec. 23rd in the evening until Dec. 29th in the morning.
If the sudden urge to ask me a riddle or have me ask you one should occur, send me an email and I'll email you the phone number of where I'll be staying. Of course, I'll have several riddles prepared, so feel free to call several times.
Happy Jolly Holidays
This will be a short but much needed break from life here, currently, in Japan.
P.S. Aloe yogurt, as the container reads, is quite a yummy 'moisture desert'.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Who is This Insanely Talented Writer???
Remind me never to read someone's blog who is insanely more talented at writing than I am.
I tend to view writing as a way to communicate events, facts, or interesting stories to myself, for reflection, or to others, for sharing and maintaining connections. I like punctuation. I like grammar and the feel of a well-written sentence. I don't find much satisfaction in stream-of-consciousness writing. I mostly fail to comprehend the purpose of recording ephemeral emotions and confessing passing passions. It's easy to convince myself that writing of this kind is pointless self-indulgence. Then... I read someone's blog who knows how to do it right, and my logic instantly falls away.
Perhaps it is because of my isolation here that my blog has taken such a impersonal, almost formal tone. I just think I ought to relax it a little. Herein lies the problem: when am I ever relaxed in Japan?
I went to the hot springs again last night to relieve some tension from my tight shoulders after another long day in school. I sat in the classroom-sized, steaming hottub, while five Japanese ladies shot glances at me, casually chatting with one another. Not one said a word to me the entire time. Not one responded to my smile, my 'konbanwa'('good evening').
People tend to lean towards one extreme. Usually, it's the children who stare, until I wave to them and they realize I'm alive and human. They sometimes wave back, but mostly they just look away, their curious brains searching for the next oddity. The adults, in general, always notice me, but always ignore me. This leads to me feeling quite isolated nearly every time I go out by myself whether I'm at the grocery store, the mall, a restaurant, etc. I blame myself for this; I rather blindly entered a country without knowing the language and took up residence, actually requested residence, in the suburbs of a relatively unknown city on a relatively unknown island. I brought isolation upon myself, big time. However, I blame the Japanese too. Many of such people present themselves to be supremely sensitive to the needs of others, yet they push away my needs with a cold heart.
My solution to the present challenge is to continue to breathe and to recall the wonder of being alive. My solution is also to be proud that I am here, and that I am different. I am normal in many places, but I am not normal here in Japan. I happily sign autographs after every elementary school class. Amazingly enough, I can use chopsticks proficiently. I make sure that I eat very openly, so everyone can notice and pay me a compliment on my skills. I laugh wholeheartedly when, while giving my 52nd self-introduction class, the students, for the 52nd time, mock my pronunciation of the word 'Colorado' and giggle when I tell them the names of my family members, including Jason(the one with the hockey mask) and Rebecca(which sounds like the word 'silly' in Japanese). I am different, and because I'm American, that makes me special. Because I'm in Japan, that makes me an undeniable distraction.The other solution is to think of my job, selling English to Japanese kids, and of course, the kids themselves, who make life in school bareable and humorous.
Ah, forget the above reminder. We all need a little dose of inspiration from time to time, and we can all be insane in our own little way. ; )
I tend to view writing as a way to communicate events, facts, or interesting stories to myself, for reflection, or to others, for sharing and maintaining connections. I like punctuation. I like grammar and the feel of a well-written sentence. I don't find much satisfaction in stream-of-consciousness writing. I mostly fail to comprehend the purpose of recording ephemeral emotions and confessing passing passions. It's easy to convince myself that writing of this kind is pointless self-indulgence. Then... I read someone's blog who knows how to do it right, and my logic instantly falls away.
Perhaps it is because of my isolation here that my blog has taken such a impersonal, almost formal tone. I just think I ought to relax it a little. Herein lies the problem: when am I ever relaxed in Japan?
I went to the hot springs again last night to relieve some tension from my tight shoulders after another long day in school. I sat in the classroom-sized, steaming hottub, while five Japanese ladies shot glances at me, casually chatting with one another. Not one said a word to me the entire time. Not one responded to my smile, my 'konbanwa'('good evening').
People tend to lean towards one extreme. Usually, it's the children who stare, until I wave to them and they realize I'm alive and human. They sometimes wave back, but mostly they just look away, their curious brains searching for the next oddity. The adults, in general, always notice me, but always ignore me. This leads to me feeling quite isolated nearly every time I go out by myself whether I'm at the grocery store, the mall, a restaurant, etc. I blame myself for this; I rather blindly entered a country without knowing the language and took up residence, actually requested residence, in the suburbs of a relatively unknown city on a relatively unknown island. I brought isolation upon myself, big time. However, I blame the Japanese too. Many of such people present themselves to be supremely sensitive to the needs of others, yet they push away my needs with a cold heart.
My solution to the present challenge is to continue to breathe and to recall the wonder of being alive. My solution is also to be proud that I am here, and that I am different. I am normal in many places, but I am not normal here in Japan. I happily sign autographs after every elementary school class. Amazingly enough, I can use chopsticks proficiently. I make sure that I eat very openly, so everyone can notice and pay me a compliment on my skills. I laugh wholeheartedly when, while giving my 52nd self-introduction class, the students, for the 52nd time, mock my pronunciation of the word 'Colorado' and giggle when I tell them the names of my family members, including Jason(the one with the hockey mask) and Rebecca(which sounds like the word 'silly' in Japanese). I am different, and because I'm American, that makes me special. Because I'm in Japan, that makes me an undeniable distraction.The other solution is to think of my job, selling English to Japanese kids, and of course, the kids themselves, who make life in school bareable and humorous.
Ah, forget the above reminder. We all need a little dose of inspiration from time to time, and we can all be insane in our own little way. ; )
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Ode to Sashimi
Picture the scene: Fourteen hundred wide eyes stare at a lit stage, eagerly watching as the conductor lifts his baton. One, two... da, da da di di da da di di! The sound of timpani, brass and woodwinds thunder through the hall, proclaiming the commencement of Beethoven's final masterpiece. A chorus of nearly two hundred heads looks back at the crowd. Both the chorus and the crowd are anxiously awaiting the moment when the sounds of the heavenly Ode to Joy will fill the hall with beauty and light.
Now picture the orchestra: half students at Heisei Music Conservatory, half hired professionals, a handful of old-timers who return every year, and me. A... foreign face. The only foreign face--except for the conductor. This man, Renike, a German-born Japan resident for over twenty years, was remarkable. Not only did he bring Beethoven's spirit out of all of us through his inspiration, but he managed to convey his wishes at rehearsal through a mix of Japanese, German and English.
So how on earth did I get a gig like this one? Tsunoda Sensei is the answer. Haven't I mentioned that Japan is about connections? Maybe that's another blog waiting to happen, but, Tsunoda Sensei is one of the few old-timers who was asked back to play. He put in his good word for me and got me in. Into the first violin section, that is!
We had three rehearsals, two of which were during school hours, so I had to take some vacation time. I ended up getting paid about $100(against my contract, but I didn't know about the $ beforehand, I swear!!), so it didn't really matter that I took off. Rehearsal lasted three hours, which were put to good use, I'd say. Part of the time, we rehearsed a bassoon concerto by Weber, which was utterly Mozartian in my opinion(which means I like to listen to it, but not to play it). The rest of the time, I sat at my own stand in the back of the section trying desperately to get the comments from the concertmaster passed back to me. So many of the people I've met are terribly, horribly shy, to the point where no one will even look at me for fear I might talk to them. I had hoped to meet a couple people and maybe form some of my own musical connections in the area, as it's been a difficult task from the start, but no one would talk, even in Japanese!
Yet, I am not writing to show any discouragement, I am mainly writing because of food.
I want to write about the food Tsunoda Sensei and I ate after the concert.
Tsunoda Sensei, as I once mentioned, is a wealthy man. He runs a chiropractic business from his home, is the only Chinese herbalist I've heard of on Kyushu, and maintains a small concert hall in his house. He took me out for sashimi(raw fish/shellfish) after our hard day's work at the concert hall.
The sashimi place was one block from his house, in my hometown Arao. It was the tiniest hole-in-the wall of a restaurant, but looks were certainly deceiving in this case. My friend Steve, whom I traveled to Kyoto with, has a fine appreciation for all things sushi/sashimi. I wished I'd known of this place when he was here. We're not talking salmon and tuna, these fish and shellfish were from my area, fresh as can be, killed and cut up as we waited.
---I wanted to look up all the translations online, but I've tried and have come up with nothing helpful. I believe that many of the food items were rare or delicacies, so I will just do my best to describe them---
(I will list the Japanese in katakanized romaji for those who understand it and wish to correct my mistakes--please do. Also, everything is raw unless otherwise mentioned :) )
Starters: Kairagi-Shellfish, served on Amakusa wakame(local seaweed):
Kaibashira-Looked like a small conch(couldn't identify the shell), hammered open, scooped out of the shell, and thinly sliced. Colorful black and brown edges with a pink flesh.
Bira-Several small clams
Shoyu mameyariika-tiny squid soaked in soy sauce, mirin, and sake for 3 days(yuck-the eyeballs were not of a pleasant texture)
Another round of sashimi:
Aka ebi-Red shrimp, striped, very mushy
Tora fugu-The dreaded blowfish. The chef showed me his license as he served this specialty item. It is illegal to serve blowfish without a license because several parts of the fish are poisonous if swallowed. I freaked out with pleasure when he told me what it was, and I ate it right away. It's flavor was nondescript, like any mild whitefish sashimi I've had.
Haze-Small, whole, white fish, lightly fried
Iwashi dango-Dark brown fish balls, with onion and other vegetables, resembled my memories of liver
Tempura(batter-fried items) arrived:
Kuchizoko-Another tasty white fish
Konyaku-Purple gelatinous squares, rarely made tempura-style
Carrots
Haze-White fish
More sashimi and other things:
Hirame--White fish sandwiched in kombu seaweed for 2 days. Thoroughly consisent and pleasant texture.
Takuwa Tsukemono, ori-Two varieties of wild pickles
Ariake nori-local seaweed-Dark brown, nearly black. Resembled prunes in texture, flavor and color, all except for the seaweed aftertaste. Hmm.
Sukeami shiozuke-Teeny little shrimp, so bitter and salty they were nearly inedible. I did my best ;)
Kapo marunishi-Another shellfish, resembled fleshy, pink cheeks.
Special tastes:
One thirty-year old umeboshi-Plum soaked in wine/sake. So flavorful and bitter, my whole being became 'plum' for a moment. The taste lingered for several minutes. Not unpleasant, but fully encompassing the taste buds. A real treasure.
One thirty-year old umeboshi geokyoso-The plum's seed, removed from the exterior shell. Supposedly possesses special healing powers. It tasted good(shoulders shrug).
The chef's homemade 16 year-old shochu-whisky. Quite delicate, for whisky.
The chef's homemade 6 year-old umeboshi sake-plum wine. Yum yum yum.
Finishing course:
Rice
Daigojiru-Miso soup with coin-shaped dumplings inside. This miso had a texture like corn chowder, contained carrots, sweet potato, winter squash, and onions. The chef said that the recipe had been in the family for centuries. He learned it from his grandmother. He said that she'd served it to samurai. It was by far one of the tastiest foods I've had in Japan, if not in my entire life. It was a great way to finish a stunning meal.
I left out all the tasting sauces, but I think my point's been made about the amazing and unusual quality of this meal. It was obvious that the chef hadn't encountered a customer so enticed by his dishes in a long time. I believe this is why he attempted to create a meal beyond regular extravagance. (Truly, I believe it was the look on my face when he mentioned the blowfish. He knew I'd be interested to try anything after that.)
I ate so much that I had a hard time sleeping. At 3:30AM, I was wide awake. I called my mom and also bought a plane ticket home to Philly for the holidays. Then I read for an hour.
Ah, Japan.
Now picture the orchestra: half students at Heisei Music Conservatory, half hired professionals, a handful of old-timers who return every year, and me. A... foreign face. The only foreign face--except for the conductor. This man, Renike, a German-born Japan resident for over twenty years, was remarkable. Not only did he bring Beethoven's spirit out of all of us through his inspiration, but he managed to convey his wishes at rehearsal through a mix of Japanese, German and English.
So how on earth did I get a gig like this one? Tsunoda Sensei is the answer. Haven't I mentioned that Japan is about connections? Maybe that's another blog waiting to happen, but, Tsunoda Sensei is one of the few old-timers who was asked back to play. He put in his good word for me and got me in. Into the first violin section, that is!
We had three rehearsals, two of which were during school hours, so I had to take some vacation time. I ended up getting paid about $100(against my contract, but I didn't know about the $ beforehand, I swear!!), so it didn't really matter that I took off. Rehearsal lasted three hours, which were put to good use, I'd say. Part of the time, we rehearsed a bassoon concerto by Weber, which was utterly Mozartian in my opinion(which means I like to listen to it, but not to play it). The rest of the time, I sat at my own stand in the back of the section trying desperately to get the comments from the concertmaster passed back to me. So many of the people I've met are terribly, horribly shy, to the point where no one will even look at me for fear I might talk to them. I had hoped to meet a couple people and maybe form some of my own musical connections in the area, as it's been a difficult task from the start, but no one would talk, even in Japanese!
Yet, I am not writing to show any discouragement, I am mainly writing because of food.
I want to write about the food Tsunoda Sensei and I ate after the concert.
Tsunoda Sensei, as I once mentioned, is a wealthy man. He runs a chiropractic business from his home, is the only Chinese herbalist I've heard of on Kyushu, and maintains a small concert hall in his house. He took me out for sashimi(raw fish/shellfish) after our hard day's work at the concert hall.
The sashimi place was one block from his house, in my hometown Arao. It was the tiniest hole-in-the wall of a restaurant, but looks were certainly deceiving in this case. My friend Steve, whom I traveled to Kyoto with, has a fine appreciation for all things sushi/sashimi. I wished I'd known of this place when he was here. We're not talking salmon and tuna, these fish and shellfish were from my area, fresh as can be, killed and cut up as we waited.
---I wanted to look up all the translations online, but I've tried and have come up with nothing helpful. I believe that many of the food items were rare or delicacies, so I will just do my best to describe them---
(I will list the Japanese in katakanized romaji for those who understand it and wish to correct my mistakes--please do. Also, everything is raw unless otherwise mentioned :) )
Starters: Kairagi-Shellfish, served on Amakusa wakame(local seaweed):
Kaibashira-Looked like a small conch(couldn't identify the shell), hammered open, scooped out of the shell, and thinly sliced. Colorful black and brown edges with a pink flesh.
Bira-Several small clams
Shoyu mameyariika-tiny squid soaked in soy sauce, mirin, and sake for 3 days(yuck-the eyeballs were not of a pleasant texture)
Another round of sashimi:
Aka ebi-Red shrimp, striped, very mushy
Tora fugu-The dreaded blowfish. The chef showed me his license as he served this specialty item. It is illegal to serve blowfish without a license because several parts of the fish are poisonous if swallowed. I freaked out with pleasure when he told me what it was, and I ate it right away. It's flavor was nondescript, like any mild whitefish sashimi I've had.
Haze-Small, whole, white fish, lightly fried
Iwashi dango-Dark brown fish balls, with onion and other vegetables, resembled my memories of liver
Tempura(batter-fried items) arrived:
Kuchizoko-Another tasty white fish
Konyaku-Purple gelatinous squares, rarely made tempura-style
Carrots
Haze-White fish
More sashimi and other things:
Hirame--White fish sandwiched in kombu seaweed for 2 days. Thoroughly consisent and pleasant texture.
Takuwa Tsukemono, ori-Two varieties of wild pickles
Ariake nori-local seaweed-Dark brown, nearly black. Resembled prunes in texture, flavor and color, all except for the seaweed aftertaste. Hmm.
Sukeami shiozuke-Teeny little shrimp, so bitter and salty they were nearly inedible. I did my best ;)
Kapo marunishi-Another shellfish, resembled fleshy, pink cheeks.
Special tastes:
One thirty-year old umeboshi-Plum soaked in wine/sake. So flavorful and bitter, my whole being became 'plum' for a moment. The taste lingered for several minutes. Not unpleasant, but fully encompassing the taste buds. A real treasure.
One thirty-year old umeboshi geokyoso-The plum's seed, removed from the exterior shell. Supposedly possesses special healing powers. It tasted good(shoulders shrug).
The chef's homemade 16 year-old shochu-whisky. Quite delicate, for whisky.
The chef's homemade 6 year-old umeboshi sake-plum wine. Yum yum yum.
Finishing course:
Rice
Daigojiru-Miso soup with coin-shaped dumplings inside. This miso had a texture like corn chowder, contained carrots, sweet potato, winter squash, and onions. The chef said that the recipe had been in the family for centuries. He learned it from his grandmother. He said that she'd served it to samurai. It was by far one of the tastiest foods I've had in Japan, if not in my entire life. It was a great way to finish a stunning meal.
I left out all the tasting sauces, but I think my point's been made about the amazing and unusual quality of this meal. It was obvious that the chef hadn't encountered a customer so enticed by his dishes in a long time. I believe this is why he attempted to create a meal beyond regular extravagance. (Truly, I believe it was the look on my face when he mentioned the blowfish. He knew I'd be interested to try anything after that.)
I ate so much that I had a hard time sleeping. At 3:30AM, I was wide awake. I called my mom and also bought a plane ticket home to Philly for the holidays. Then I read for an hour.
Ah, Japan.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Another Day, Another School
I had to say goodbye to Arao #2 Middle School on Sunday, my last day. It's hard to imagined how attached I'd become to the kids at that school in only three weeks. They had to get a staple remover, superglue 'undue', a hammer and two different sized wrenches to remove them from my sides.
For my goodbye ceremony, the principal stood in front of the body of students and told them how he had wanted to say many things to me in the past several weeks. He continued by saying that he hadn't been able to communicate nearly as much as he would've liked because of his lack of English language ability(and my lack of Japanese language ability, I might add). He then urged the students to learn English as best as they could so that they would never experience similar circumstances. He said he missed his chance. He thanked me for my work, and asked me to come back and visit. I assured him that I would.
I was also asked to make a goodbye speech. The principal handed me the microphone. I began by telling the students that I expected that maybe they were surprised because I hadn't told anyone that it was my last day of classes. I told them it was because I wanted to pretend it wasn't true. I asked them if they could see that English would be useful to all of them in the future, and would be extremely useful to some of the them. I asked them to enjoy their English studies, even if they 'hated English'.
Afterwards, two students came up to the front and, to my surprise, gave a speech in English, saying thank you and goodbye. They presented me with a huge bouquet of roses and lilies. Several of the students had bought them for me. I was asked to speak. In my response, I told them how much I enjoyed being with them, and how lucky they all were to have each other. Finally, I had the opportunity to express gratitude towards the fantastic teachers at the school and the students, who seemed exceptionally bright as a whole. It was quite a satisfying farewell.
After school, after the goodbyes with the teachers, I changed into my gym clothes and joined the tennis team for practice. It was freezing outside. I, who was freezing my butt off, wore a hooded sweatshirt and long pants. The students wore thin, long-sleeved shirts and shorts. Their stamina and resilience had impressed me from the start, but sincerely impressed me on that day. We had a good practice, and I went inside to grab my things.
And finally, I headed into the gym to watch the end of basketball practice. Then, quietly, anonymously, I slipped out. There was no final goodbye.
This morning I was late for my first day and Arao #3 Middle School. You should see the map I use. It's really, really bad. But, I live in a land of no excuses. I commited a terrible sin on my first day, and I noticed that several teachers at my new school gave me quite a cold shoulder all day long. What a great way to start my new life for the next month! I'm just lucky the principal was at a meeting!! ;)
I felt down all day. Very sad, and it was only being with the students that cheered me up a little. Unfortunately, however, I had four more self-intros to give today, and I barely had the energy to go to class, let alone be a cheerleader for English. Bash, this is what my mom calls this 'character-building'. I think it sucks.
For my goodbye ceremony, the principal stood in front of the body of students and told them how he had wanted to say many things to me in the past several weeks. He continued by saying that he hadn't been able to communicate nearly as much as he would've liked because of his lack of English language ability(and my lack of Japanese language ability, I might add). He then urged the students to learn English as best as they could so that they would never experience similar circumstances. He said he missed his chance. He thanked me for my work, and asked me to come back and visit. I assured him that I would.
I was also asked to make a goodbye speech. The principal handed me the microphone. I began by telling the students that I expected that maybe they were surprised because I hadn't told anyone that it was my last day of classes. I told them it was because I wanted to pretend it wasn't true. I asked them if they could see that English would be useful to all of them in the future, and would be extremely useful to some of the them. I asked them to enjoy their English studies, even if they 'hated English'.
Afterwards, two students came up to the front and, to my surprise, gave a speech in English, saying thank you and goodbye. They presented me with a huge bouquet of roses and lilies. Several of the students had bought them for me. I was asked to speak. In my response, I told them how much I enjoyed being with them, and how lucky they all were to have each other. Finally, I had the opportunity to express gratitude towards the fantastic teachers at the school and the students, who seemed exceptionally bright as a whole. It was quite a satisfying farewell.
After school, after the goodbyes with the teachers, I changed into my gym clothes and joined the tennis team for practice. It was freezing outside. I, who was freezing my butt off, wore a hooded sweatshirt and long pants. The students wore thin, long-sleeved shirts and shorts. Their stamina and resilience had impressed me from the start, but sincerely impressed me on that day. We had a good practice, and I went inside to grab my things.
And finally, I headed into the gym to watch the end of basketball practice. Then, quietly, anonymously, I slipped out. There was no final goodbye.
This morning I was late for my first day and Arao #3 Middle School. You should see the map I use. It's really, really bad. But, I live in a land of no excuses. I commited a terrible sin on my first day, and I noticed that several teachers at my new school gave me quite a cold shoulder all day long. What a great way to start my new life for the next month! I'm just lucky the principal was at a meeting!! ;)
I felt down all day. Very sad, and it was only being with the students that cheered me up a little. Unfortunately, however, I had four more self-intros to give today, and I barely had the energy to go to class, let alone be a cheerleader for English. Bash, this is what my mom calls this 'character-building'. I think it sucks.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
The Mind's Movement
I've got a couple days of teaching seminars going on now. It's been hectic and I am tired a lot. It's been a busy week.
On Friday night I went to a 'drinking party' with the teachers from my current school and it was madness--everyone was smashed by the end including me!! It was fun! All the teachers let loose and were talking about each other. I couldn't believe how open they were about all their thoughts and opinions cause they are normally polite and professional--'so and so Sensei is sooo cute, so and so Sensei is sooo immature...' The vice-principal, more than slightly inebriated invited me to go fishing with him the next day!!
I couldn't go. The next morning, Saturday, I got up early and went to pick oranges with one of the teachers I teach with. They are mandarin oranges, called 'mikan' in Japanese, and they are small and super sweet and yummy. After that we got bento box lunches and I went to Aikido practice in the city.
On Sunday I got up early and went to an Aikido seminar with Suganuma Sensei, the 9th dan up in Fukuoka City. Afterwards, there was another drinking party, so I went, but didn't drink cause I was driving, you know? But got to talk with Suganuma during the festivities about Aikido, ask real philosophy questions--luckily there was a guy who could translate. I jokingly asked him to tell me the secrets of the universe, but he thought about it and then took my question seriously. The translation came back something like: 'we are the mystery, this moment we are living is the secret, the movement of the universe, the mind's movement, those are the secrets. Yet, they are not really secrets.' It was an awesome time, to talk with him and to have the freedom to ask him questions and listen to his answers. I wish I could tell you more about that. I have little time now.
So today, I got up early again for a teaching seminar, and there's another one tomorrow. A lot of getting up early. I can't wait until there's a moment to breathe.
On Friday night I went to a 'drinking party' with the teachers from my current school and it was madness--everyone was smashed by the end including me!! It was fun! All the teachers let loose and were talking about each other. I couldn't believe how open they were about all their thoughts and opinions cause they are normally polite and professional--'so and so Sensei is sooo cute, so and so Sensei is sooo immature...' The vice-principal, more than slightly inebriated invited me to go fishing with him the next day!!
I couldn't go. The next morning, Saturday, I got up early and went to pick oranges with one of the teachers I teach with. They are mandarin oranges, called 'mikan' in Japanese, and they are small and super sweet and yummy. After that we got bento box lunches and I went to Aikido practice in the city.
On Sunday I got up early and went to an Aikido seminar with Suganuma Sensei, the 9th dan up in Fukuoka City. Afterwards, there was another drinking party, so I went, but didn't drink cause I was driving, you know? But got to talk with Suganuma during the festivities about Aikido, ask real philosophy questions--luckily there was a guy who could translate. I jokingly asked him to tell me the secrets of the universe, but he thought about it and then took my question seriously. The translation came back something like: 'we are the mystery, this moment we are living is the secret, the movement of the universe, the mind's movement, those are the secrets. Yet, they are not really secrets.' It was an awesome time, to talk with him and to have the freedom to ask him questions and listen to his answers. I wish I could tell you more about that. I have little time now.
So today, I got up early again for a teaching seminar, and there's another one tomorrow. A lot of getting up early. I can't wait until there's a moment to breathe.
Friday, November 26, 2004
Thanksgiving
I went in to watch the end of basketball practice today at #2 Middle School. I took off my shoes and set them on the wooden rack, peeked my head into the gym and tiptoed inside. A chorus of 'konnichiwa's rang out, so I gave up trying to appear invisible, stood up straight and weaved my way to the far side of the gym towards the stage.
Not one minute after I jumped up the side to take a seat on it did a student run to the back and bring a chair for me to sit in. Because I am a teacher, I shouldn't sit on the stage floor where it might be dirty or uncomfortable. The students consider it their job to take notice of their teachers' comfort, especially a guest teacher, and we also consider it our job as teachers to take care of them and do our best for them. Now I understand, it is not that we are not human, but we all have a job to do. The student's job was to get me a chair. My job in turn, was to be grateful for the favor and accept it. I don't mean to be presumptuous. This culture is still as foreign to me as the first day I set foot here in so many ways. Yet, I've finally learned how to accept a favor because I know I will eventually have my turn to give one. This makes living in Japan make sense. There is hardly room for independence because we all work so hard to fill each other's needs. The Japanese people I know seem to love to need each other.
Perhaps you'd be shocked, like I was, the first time I asked the students to answer questions aloud in class. Undoubtedly, after the question was asked, the student would turn to her friends who would promptly give her the answer. She would then turn back to me and repeat what they had told her.
If they are working on an assignment, students lean over and copy each other's work. Sometimes, while doing classwork, a student will get up, walk to his friend's desk, read his paper and go back and sit down. This is TOTALLY ALLOWED. It happened today in school; it happens every day. The teacher's don't pay attention. The students are supporting one another and it makes the teachers feel happy, regardless of whether anyone's learning anything. This is culture. It effects everything, it is seeping through every interaction, every word said or not said, and it's impossible, confusing, amazing and enlightening to me. I see the world from such different eyes than I thought.
I thought about Thanksgiving in the cafeteria today. I remembered several things that I am thankful for. Looking around me, I felt thankful for the smiles surrounding me on the student's faces, which reminded me of my cousin Jody's beautiful smile. Then I remembered the sound her sister Rebecca's laugh, and I felt grateful for that memory. Of course, that led me to think of my Aunt Cheryl, who sends me lots of reassuring emails and also has quite a wonderful laugh. Her brother, my dad, is wonderful because he keeps being curious about everything in life and he spreads that curiousity to me and my brothers. My's dad's wife is the same way, and she also helped him find a lot of himself, I think. My bro Jason. I trust him so deeply. After all this time he seems to be okay with looking out for his little sister. Zach, brother-o-mine has a beautiful heart, full of righteous love. And my mom. Do you know she sends me letters every week?? I find my mother's love defies definition. Now, I'm forgetting the unforgetable Uncle Bill and Uncle Larry, who both offer support to the entire family in different ways, tangible and intangible.
Finally, I would like to take a moment for squirrels. I know two people that are made very happy by them, and that makes me happy.
I think about people at home every day. I think about this beautiful culture here, and how it has made me feel grateful for others in ways I never conceived of. I believe in Thanksgiving, because it gives us a reason to speak up and say how we feel, as long as that feeling is one of thanks. So I'm happy I have a lot to say thanks for this year(family, aikido teachers and friends, music friends, friend friends, friend friend friends(you know who you are)).
I got up and folded my chair at about 6PM. The teams were just about to start playing again. As I jumped off the stage and began to walk towards the door, the basketball coach and one of the English teachers I teach with stopped me to ask if I'd like to come out with the teachers sometime (to drink!). I said 'sure!', as the buzzer went off and the kids bolted to midcourt to resume their game. I continued walking slowly to the far door, hoping to avoid being noticed and causing a delay in the game. Instead, I heard the squeak of 22 sneakers dash up behind me and the squeak/clomp of one student with a foot in a cast. I turned around, taken aback, as they all stand in a line before me. I then heard: "Kyotsuke! Rei!(Call to attention! Bow). "Thank you very much [for watching]!!"
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone
Not one minute after I jumped up the side to take a seat on it did a student run to the back and bring a chair for me to sit in. Because I am a teacher, I shouldn't sit on the stage floor where it might be dirty or uncomfortable. The students consider it their job to take notice of their teachers' comfort, especially a guest teacher, and we also consider it our job as teachers to take care of them and do our best for them. Now I understand, it is not that we are not human, but we all have a job to do. The student's job was to get me a chair. My job in turn, was to be grateful for the favor and accept it. I don't mean to be presumptuous. This culture is still as foreign to me as the first day I set foot here in so many ways. Yet, I've finally learned how to accept a favor because I know I will eventually have my turn to give one. This makes living in Japan make sense. There is hardly room for independence because we all work so hard to fill each other's needs. The Japanese people I know seem to love to need each other.
Perhaps you'd be shocked, like I was, the first time I asked the students to answer questions aloud in class. Undoubtedly, after the question was asked, the student would turn to her friends who would promptly give her the answer. She would then turn back to me and repeat what they had told her.
If they are working on an assignment, students lean over and copy each other's work. Sometimes, while doing classwork, a student will get up, walk to his friend's desk, read his paper and go back and sit down. This is TOTALLY ALLOWED. It happened today in school; it happens every day. The teacher's don't pay attention. The students are supporting one another and it makes the teachers feel happy, regardless of whether anyone's learning anything. This is culture. It effects everything, it is seeping through every interaction, every word said or not said, and it's impossible, confusing, amazing and enlightening to me. I see the world from such different eyes than I thought.
I thought about Thanksgiving in the cafeteria today. I remembered several things that I am thankful for. Looking around me, I felt thankful for the smiles surrounding me on the student's faces, which reminded me of my cousin Jody's beautiful smile. Then I remembered the sound her sister Rebecca's laugh, and I felt grateful for that memory. Of course, that led me to think of my Aunt Cheryl, who sends me lots of reassuring emails and also has quite a wonderful laugh. Her brother, my dad, is wonderful because he keeps being curious about everything in life and he spreads that curiousity to me and my brothers. My's dad's wife is the same way, and she also helped him find a lot of himself, I think. My bro Jason. I trust him so deeply. After all this time he seems to be okay with looking out for his little sister. Zach, brother-o-mine has a beautiful heart, full of righteous love. And my mom. Do you know she sends me letters every week?? I find my mother's love defies definition. Now, I'm forgetting the unforgetable Uncle Bill and Uncle Larry, who both offer support to the entire family in different ways, tangible and intangible.
Finally, I would like to take a moment for squirrels. I know two people that are made very happy by them, and that makes me happy.
I think about people at home every day. I think about this beautiful culture here, and how it has made me feel grateful for others in ways I never conceived of. I believe in Thanksgiving, because it gives us a reason to speak up and say how we feel, as long as that feeling is one of thanks. So I'm happy I have a lot to say thanks for this year(family, aikido teachers and friends, music friends, friend friends, friend friend friends(you know who you are)).
I got up and folded my chair at about 6PM. The teams were just about to start playing again. As I jumped off the stage and began to walk towards the door, the basketball coach and one of the English teachers I teach with stopped me to ask if I'd like to come out with the teachers sometime (to drink!). I said 'sure!', as the buzzer went off and the kids bolted to midcourt to resume their game. I continued walking slowly to the far door, hoping to avoid being noticed and causing a delay in the game. Instead, I heard the squeak of 22 sneakers dash up behind me and the squeak/clomp of one student with a foot in a cast. I turned around, taken aback, as they all stand in a line before me. I then heard: "Kyotsuke! Rei!(Call to attention! Bow). "Thank you very much [for watching]!!"
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
The Awesomeness That Is Sumo
Sumo. The very word conjures up images of tubs and refridgerators of men, massive hulks of human beings stomping their feet, slapping their bellies, and tearing each another apart. But actually witnessing these men up close, passing by them on the way into the arena as they klip-klop down the hallway in wooden sandals and light cotton robes, is a truly awe-inspiring and fear-ekoving event.
These are Mountains of men in these robes, each aspiring to attain the rank of Yokozuna, or lifetime Grand Champion. They head towards the changing room, where they will remove the robe(my personal favorite was the cotton candy colored one with the sky blue belt, on this man-beast bigger than the size of two Julies put together), and don the infamous loincloth belt, the unchanging mark of the sumo wrestler for approximately 1500 years.
I got a free ticket to the Annual Fukuoka Sumo Competition, one of six fifteen-day competitions that occur during the year in cities throughout Japan. My friend's friend couldn't go at the last minute and forfeited his own ticket worth $120 bucks, so my friend called me up and offered it to me. I felt like I was like being blessed with this ticket, yet the only priests involved would be Shinto ones, dressed in fanciful outfits, shouting words of inspiration to arm-locked giants inside a 15' ring!!
We arrived at the sumo hall around 11am, unknowingly way too early for the real action. The matches of the lower ranked divisions had begun at 9am, and continued until 2pm. You see, I thought these matches were the show. My eyes were glued to the ring at all times. Some of the men would strut into the ring like a nearly naked Hell's Angel, and others would have surprisingly little presence for their size. After a man with a fan would sing a short prayer-like song, the two wrestlers would enter the ring, bow to each other, and head to the sides of the ring to begin the ritual of clapping and stomping their feet. Meanwhile, the priest(authentic? I'm not sure)/referee would sing the names of the competitors. His outfits were supremely colorful, sometimes covered with dragons, or even gold-stitching. The men would return to face one another and begin a strange dance-like ritual of standing up and stomping(some of them could do a full split, sending one leg high into the air)and kneeling on their haunches, standing and shuffling around, and kneeling again. This ritual had the effect of building suspense and energy within the crowd. Finally they kneeled on their haunches one last time, staring through one another.
Then, the instant their knuckles touch the ground, they burst forth like elks in mating season. Yesterday, I believe I witnessed at least 3 broken ribs, a number of possible broken legs, and a man who looked in enough pain that he might have fractured part of his spine. We're talking fierce intensity here, as they try to down one another. And to think, these were just the lower divisions.
I didn't know that all the champs were just waiting their turn for the chance to enter the ring later in the day. Since they only have one match per day, they save the most exciting matches of the highest ranks for the very end. In fact, many of these big name sumo guys didn't arrive until after the lower division was finishing. A large crowd gathered outside the arena to welcome them in, cheer them on and swoon over them as they entered the arena. I watched, and felt very strange because I didn't know any of the men's faces, not until I watched them fight and a few of them became permanently etched in my brain.
The rituals of the upper division were considerably longer then the lower. They would enter, bow, go to the back, stomp their feet, toss some salt into the ring, return to face each other, stomp, head back, throw more salt, and repeat a third time. The third time was literally the charm, when the competitors actually showed some expression and raised the level of anticipation by slapping their bellies extra hard. The third time they headed to the back of the ring they wiped their bodies with a wash cloth, possibly a wash cloth containing a offensive odor seeing how their spirit would rage after wiping themselves clean. The sound of slapping bellies resounded through the arena, and we all awaited the instant their knuckles would touch the ground, sending two four hundred-pound boulders toward each other with only one intent: to make the other exit the ring or touch the ground first.
The matches generally lasted for a very short time, 30 seconds or less, but the most exciting matches would involve almost-wins and turnarounds. One match, a guy in purple with a firey look and one in black ended with the two flipping over, landing on the rim and tumbling down onto the surrounding judges on the sides. We couldn't tell who had touched first, and neither could any of the judges. After they held a 2-minute conference, it was decided that they would fight again. I believe this was unusual, because normally the men only have one fight in the entire day. So they faced off, and the belly slapping turned into body slapping and face jerking, and generous scoops of salt being chucked into the ring. It was the fridge in purple that reigned in the second match and was pronouced the winner in the end.
After the last match, a wrestler came into the ring with a kyudo bow, and twirled it at lightning speed, signifying the closing of the games of day eight of the competition.
I will not deny that I would gladly return to sit all day in a box smaller than a tissue box, with three other people who are also scared of fierocious men, every day this week if I were so blessed. The dream that was yesterday has expanded my mind once again, and endeared me even more to those things which make Japan great.
check out:
http://www.crystalinks.com/sumo.html
for info on sumo
http://www.mouthshut.com/readreview/23201-1.html
for more details on sumo life
http://www.japantimes.co.jp/sumo.htm
for the standings after yesterday's fights
These are Mountains of men in these robes, each aspiring to attain the rank of Yokozuna, or lifetime Grand Champion. They head towards the changing room, where they will remove the robe(my personal favorite was the cotton candy colored one with the sky blue belt, on this man-beast bigger than the size of two Julies put together), and don the infamous loincloth belt, the unchanging mark of the sumo wrestler for approximately 1500 years.
I got a free ticket to the Annual Fukuoka Sumo Competition, one of six fifteen-day competitions that occur during the year in cities throughout Japan. My friend's friend couldn't go at the last minute and forfeited his own ticket worth $120 bucks, so my friend called me up and offered it to me. I felt like I was like being blessed with this ticket, yet the only priests involved would be Shinto ones, dressed in fanciful outfits, shouting words of inspiration to arm-locked giants inside a 15' ring!!
We arrived at the sumo hall around 11am, unknowingly way too early for the real action. The matches of the lower ranked divisions had begun at 9am, and continued until 2pm. You see, I thought these matches were the show. My eyes were glued to the ring at all times. Some of the men would strut into the ring like a nearly naked Hell's Angel, and others would have surprisingly little presence for their size. After a man with a fan would sing a short prayer-like song, the two wrestlers would enter the ring, bow to each other, and head to the sides of the ring to begin the ritual of clapping and stomping their feet. Meanwhile, the priest(authentic? I'm not sure)/referee would sing the names of the competitors. His outfits were supremely colorful, sometimes covered with dragons, or even gold-stitching. The men would return to face one another and begin a strange dance-like ritual of standing up and stomping(some of them could do a full split, sending one leg high into the air)and kneeling on their haunches, standing and shuffling around, and kneeling again. This ritual had the effect of building suspense and energy within the crowd. Finally they kneeled on their haunches one last time, staring through one another.
Then, the instant their knuckles touch the ground, they burst forth like elks in mating season. Yesterday, I believe I witnessed at least 3 broken ribs, a number of possible broken legs, and a man who looked in enough pain that he might have fractured part of his spine. We're talking fierce intensity here, as they try to down one another. And to think, these were just the lower divisions.
I didn't know that all the champs were just waiting their turn for the chance to enter the ring later in the day. Since they only have one match per day, they save the most exciting matches of the highest ranks for the very end. In fact, many of these big name sumo guys didn't arrive until after the lower division was finishing. A large crowd gathered outside the arena to welcome them in, cheer them on and swoon over them as they entered the arena. I watched, and felt very strange because I didn't know any of the men's faces, not until I watched them fight and a few of them became permanently etched in my brain.
The rituals of the upper division were considerably longer then the lower. They would enter, bow, go to the back, stomp their feet, toss some salt into the ring, return to face each other, stomp, head back, throw more salt, and repeat a third time. The third time was literally the charm, when the competitors actually showed some expression and raised the level of anticipation by slapping their bellies extra hard. The third time they headed to the back of the ring they wiped their bodies with a wash cloth, possibly a wash cloth containing a offensive odor seeing how their spirit would rage after wiping themselves clean. The sound of slapping bellies resounded through the arena, and we all awaited the instant their knuckles would touch the ground, sending two four hundred-pound boulders toward each other with only one intent: to make the other exit the ring or touch the ground first.
The matches generally lasted for a very short time, 30 seconds or less, but the most exciting matches would involve almost-wins and turnarounds. One match, a guy in purple with a firey look and one in black ended with the two flipping over, landing on the rim and tumbling down onto the surrounding judges on the sides. We couldn't tell who had touched first, and neither could any of the judges. After they held a 2-minute conference, it was decided that they would fight again. I believe this was unusual, because normally the men only have one fight in the entire day. So they faced off, and the belly slapping turned into body slapping and face jerking, and generous scoops of salt being chucked into the ring. It was the fridge in purple that reigned in the second match and was pronouced the winner in the end.
After the last match, a wrestler came into the ring with a kyudo bow, and twirled it at lightning speed, signifying the closing of the games of day eight of the competition.
I will not deny that I would gladly return to sit all day in a box smaller than a tissue box, with three other people who are also scared of fierocious men, every day this week if I were so blessed. The dream that was yesterday has expanded my mind once again, and endeared me even more to those things which make Japan great.
check out:
http://www.crystalinks.com/sumo.html
for info on sumo
http://www.mouthshut.com/readreview/23201-1.html
for more details on sumo life
http://www.japantimes.co.jp/sumo.htm
for the standings after yesterday's fights
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Arao #2 Middle School
Arao #2 Middle School(Arao Dai Ni Chugakko) is so different from #1 Middle School that I still can't believe they're in the same town. Besides having a third of #1's student population, it also has new facilities, Japanese and western-style toilets(a real luxury in these schools), wood paneling, wood floors and huge chalk boards that are curved slightly inward at the ends. The boards can be raised or lowered to the teacher's liking by a metal bar underneath. Everything in this place is new. Everything works, and people know where everything is. #2 Middle School students don't seem to know how lucky they are. They attend the smallest middle school in the city, have the smallest classes and get personal attention every day. Consequently, their relieved ALT(a.k.a me) can actually remember some of their names.
Every day, at all the schools there is a break period after lunch. After the break period is cleaning time. Everyone cleans, the students, the teachers and even the principal. No one ever complains about or neglects their cleaning, they just do it. Their attitude, however unconscious it may be, always impresses me.
At #1 Middle School, cleaning time was somber. The children would wait for the bells to chime, bow to one another, and cleaning would begin. Some would sweep the cement floors, some would scrub the floors with rags, some would wipe the windows, and so on. No talking is allowed, but at #1 Middle School, they scarcely even made eye contact. It was quite a sobering time.
At #2 Middle School, the loud speakers blast 'Yankee Doodle', followed by some ragtime, followed by Vivaldi's 'Spring', followed by some disco music. As we merrily sweep, dust and wipe away, kids in the halls have relay races to see who can dash its full length the fastest; feet on the wood, hands on the rag, rag on the floor, and butt straight up in the air--go! It's the cutest thing since Hello Kitty. I'll try to get a picture.
Yesterday, I went in to observe the basketball and badminton teams. This is something I never did at #1 Middle School. I always felt like I wanted to leave #1 as soon as school was over. But here, at 'Nichu'(#2), I want to stay longer. Because my classes are smaller, I already recognize students, and so I feel more comfortable. I was surprised to see how good the kids were at bastketball, and to see that it was coed. I was just as surprised to see that the badminton team was not that good, basically hitting shuttle cocks in every direction. I wondered where their coach was.
There was a new student in school today, and the English teacher was assigned to orient him, so I taught my first class 100% alone today. Technically, according to my contract that's never supposed to happen, but I was expecting it anyway eventually, seeing as all the teachers are so busy.
The seventh grade class is only in their first year of English, so I think that class was probably an English blur to them, but luckily we got through it okay, and I think I'm still ultra-cool/weird/creature-from-outer-space-like in their eyes. Just the way I like it. ;)
So maybe, all in all, school is getting easier, except for 'killer Wednesdays'. 'Killer Wednesday' is when I teach six classes in a row to elementary school kids that don't understand me, and, just to be fair, I don't understand them. I converse with teachers all day long without actually understanding a word they say. In fact, I think no actual understanding takes place the entire day. 'Killer Wednesdays' are my 'very unhappy' days.
Good thing they only come on Wednesdays. 'Killer Wednesdays' on any other day just wouldn't be right. Ok, ha ha.
So, I... um... I joined the school tennis team today.
Every day, at all the schools there is a break period after lunch. After the break period is cleaning time. Everyone cleans, the students, the teachers and even the principal. No one ever complains about or neglects their cleaning, they just do it. Their attitude, however unconscious it may be, always impresses me.
At #1 Middle School, cleaning time was somber. The children would wait for the bells to chime, bow to one another, and cleaning would begin. Some would sweep the cement floors, some would scrub the floors with rags, some would wipe the windows, and so on. No talking is allowed, but at #1 Middle School, they scarcely even made eye contact. It was quite a sobering time.
At #2 Middle School, the loud speakers blast 'Yankee Doodle', followed by some ragtime, followed by Vivaldi's 'Spring', followed by some disco music. As we merrily sweep, dust and wipe away, kids in the halls have relay races to see who can dash its full length the fastest; feet on the wood, hands on the rag, rag on the floor, and butt straight up in the air--go! It's the cutest thing since Hello Kitty. I'll try to get a picture.
Yesterday, I went in to observe the basketball and badminton teams. This is something I never did at #1 Middle School. I always felt like I wanted to leave #1 as soon as school was over. But here, at 'Nichu'(#2), I want to stay longer. Because my classes are smaller, I already recognize students, and so I feel more comfortable. I was surprised to see how good the kids were at bastketball, and to see that it was coed. I was just as surprised to see that the badminton team was not that good, basically hitting shuttle cocks in every direction. I wondered where their coach was.
There was a new student in school today, and the English teacher was assigned to orient him, so I taught my first class 100% alone today. Technically, according to my contract that's never supposed to happen, but I was expecting it anyway eventually, seeing as all the teachers are so busy.
The seventh grade class is only in their first year of English, so I think that class was probably an English blur to them, but luckily we got through it okay, and I think I'm still ultra-cool/weird/creature-from-outer-space-like in their eyes. Just the way I like it. ;)
So maybe, all in all, school is getting easier, except for 'killer Wednesdays'. 'Killer Wednesday' is when I teach six classes in a row to elementary school kids that don't understand me, and, just to be fair, I don't understand them. I converse with teachers all day long without actually understanding a word they say. In fact, I think no actual understanding takes place the entire day. 'Killer Wednesdays' are my 'very unhappy' days.
Good thing they only come on Wednesdays. 'Killer Wednesdays' on any other day just wouldn't be right. Ok, ha ha.
So, I... um... I joined the school tennis team today.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Kyoto and the 15th Rock
Kyoto was no less than a dream come true. It abounds with castles, temples, gardens, old style houses, covered plazas, original and classic foods, etc., etc., and of course, the treasured Japanese Maple tree, the pride and joy of the city. Upon arrival, the trees were just beginning to share their gift for color. Japanese Maples bring back fond memories of my childhood in Pennsylvania.
My company was Steve Delp, who is in from Boulder vacationing for a few weeks here. We met up at the Kyoto Station and headed off to the first of many wonderful meals, this one being an assortment of incredible edibles served in stacked boxes. The Kyoto Imperial Palace was our first stop, and while inside the palace walls, we stopped to sample treats, from pink pound cake to salty seaweed squares being handed out under a mini-market of tents. The palace grounds were huge, but it was hard to make an impression beyond that; we came too late in the day to get inside the inner walls and have a look at the actual palace itself.
No cause for alarm, however, we got our fill of castles and temples. We traveled to the largest temple, Nanzenji, which was Steve's favorite, and strolled around the gigantic complex of gardens and buildings, finally to find ourselves at the top of the tallest temple just in time to catch the sun setting behind the distant mountains. It looked like an egg yolk suspended, then disappearing gently into a mound of white batter. All along the crowded banister there was not a sound the moment the yolk touched the floury mixture.
We traveled to nearly all corners of the city, walking the Philosopher's Path in the east--we didn't see any philosophers--to the Arashiyama area with its famous zen rock garden on the western end.
I especially liked the zen gardens. We saw two, the first of which was made with only raked pebbles and fifteen large rocks. It is said that one can only see fourteen of the rocks at one time when looking out from the meditation hall, no matter the angle from which they are viewed. After viewing, moving and viewing again, I found the legend of the invisible fifteenth rock to be true. It is also said that the garden will reveal its meaning to the mind given the proper view and time. I only sat with it for twenty minutes or so, but I got a small tidbit revealed to me. As vast as the mind can see, there is always a component that is hidden from conscious thought, an ineffable beauty to life. That is what the fifteenth rock told me ;)
The other rock garden was spread throughout a lovely scene, set amongst trees and shrubs, mossy slopes and reflected by a lake. The rocks stood like quiet mountains, hardly saddened at all by the swarms of loud tourists chattering and chirping all around.
Kinkakuji Temple, or the Golden Pavilion, was to good to be true. This is a temple that is covered with a sheet of gold. It stands over a glimmering lake, in which its reflection shines brilliantly. I tried to imagine being there in front of the temple alone; I wanted to feel its religious inspiration, to soak it its beauty, to stay with it until the sun changed it from yellow to gold to glowing, but there were people in every direction. Hundreds, it seemed like thousands of tourists were endlessly snapping pictures. So I snapped my picture and weaved my way through the crowd to the other end of the path.
Earlier that day, on the advice of Steve's Lonely Planet Japan, we visited the Daikakuji Temple, also towards the west end of Kyoto. This temple was my dream come true. It was not huge or overrun by tourists, the trees were all colors and to me, the temple eminated tranquility. It was the only structure where I witnessed zen monks--three of them, apparently on their daily routine, walking out to begin a circle around a large pond. I wanted to stay at Daikakuji all day. Back on the bus, looking at the map, we realized the guidebook had actually directed us to Daitokuji Temple, not Daikakuji, and that neither of our books mentioned the one we had seen, explaining the lack of crowds and perhaps the less flamboyant appearance. I was thrilled at our accidental discovery.
Kyoto's night life seems to be filled with prostitutes, "gentlemen's 'snack' bars", and drunks from what I could see. Yet, they might be hard to spot if you are not used to seeing prostitutes in gowns with gloves and diamond earrings, and drunks in suits who never seem to cause a commotion. I, fortunately, decided against visiting the inside of a 'snack' bar.
Nightlife aside, I found Kyoto to be enchanting and every bit the dream I had imagined. There were several points during the trip when I said aloud, 'I could live here.'
It would be interesting to hear Steve's viewpoint of the trip because I'm sure he remembers things that I've already forgotten. Maybe I can post some of his thoughts.
Since returning, I've already had another six classes at elementary school(I'm desperately trying to get my schedule changed to less classes on elementary days) and (today) started at Arao #2 Middle School. Life goes on at the speed of life.
My company was Steve Delp, who is in from Boulder vacationing for a few weeks here. We met up at the Kyoto Station and headed off to the first of many wonderful meals, this one being an assortment of incredible edibles served in stacked boxes. The Kyoto Imperial Palace was our first stop, and while inside the palace walls, we stopped to sample treats, from pink pound cake to salty seaweed squares being handed out under a mini-market of tents. The palace grounds were huge, but it was hard to make an impression beyond that; we came too late in the day to get inside the inner walls and have a look at the actual palace itself.
No cause for alarm, however, we got our fill of castles and temples. We traveled to the largest temple, Nanzenji, which was Steve's favorite, and strolled around the gigantic complex of gardens and buildings, finally to find ourselves at the top of the tallest temple just in time to catch the sun setting behind the distant mountains. It looked like an egg yolk suspended, then disappearing gently into a mound of white batter. All along the crowded banister there was not a sound the moment the yolk touched the floury mixture.
We traveled to nearly all corners of the city, walking the Philosopher's Path in the east--we didn't see any philosophers--to the Arashiyama area with its famous zen rock garden on the western end.
I especially liked the zen gardens. We saw two, the first of which was made with only raked pebbles and fifteen large rocks. It is said that one can only see fourteen of the rocks at one time when looking out from the meditation hall, no matter the angle from which they are viewed. After viewing, moving and viewing again, I found the legend of the invisible fifteenth rock to be true. It is also said that the garden will reveal its meaning to the mind given the proper view and time. I only sat with it for twenty minutes or so, but I got a small tidbit revealed to me. As vast as the mind can see, there is always a component that is hidden from conscious thought, an ineffable beauty to life. That is what the fifteenth rock told me ;)
The other rock garden was spread throughout a lovely scene, set amongst trees and shrubs, mossy slopes and reflected by a lake. The rocks stood like quiet mountains, hardly saddened at all by the swarms of loud tourists chattering and chirping all around.
Kinkakuji Temple, or the Golden Pavilion, was to good to be true. This is a temple that is covered with a sheet of gold. It stands over a glimmering lake, in which its reflection shines brilliantly. I tried to imagine being there in front of the temple alone; I wanted to feel its religious inspiration, to soak it its beauty, to stay with it until the sun changed it from yellow to gold to glowing, but there were people in every direction. Hundreds, it seemed like thousands of tourists were endlessly snapping pictures. So I snapped my picture and weaved my way through the crowd to the other end of the path.
Earlier that day, on the advice of Steve's Lonely Planet Japan, we visited the Daikakuji Temple, also towards the west end of Kyoto. This temple was my dream come true. It was not huge or overrun by tourists, the trees were all colors and to me, the temple eminated tranquility. It was the only structure where I witnessed zen monks--three of them, apparently on their daily routine, walking out to begin a circle around a large pond. I wanted to stay at Daikakuji all day. Back on the bus, looking at the map, we realized the guidebook had actually directed us to Daitokuji Temple, not Daikakuji, and that neither of our books mentioned the one we had seen, explaining the lack of crowds and perhaps the less flamboyant appearance. I was thrilled at our accidental discovery.
Kyoto's night life seems to be filled with prostitutes, "gentlemen's 'snack' bars", and drunks from what I could see. Yet, they might be hard to spot if you are not used to seeing prostitutes in gowns with gloves and diamond earrings, and drunks in suits who never seem to cause a commotion. I, fortunately, decided against visiting the inside of a 'snack' bar.
Nightlife aside, I found Kyoto to be enchanting and every bit the dream I had imagined. There were several points during the trip when I said aloud, 'I could live here.'
It would be interesting to hear Steve's viewpoint of the trip because I'm sure he remembers things that I've already forgotten. Maybe I can post some of his thoughts.
Since returning, I've already had another six classes at elementary school(I'm desperately trying to get my schedule changed to less classes on elementary days) and (today) started at Arao #2 Middle School. Life goes on at the speed of life.
Friday, November 05, 2004
'I feel the earth, move...'
Last night, at 3:13am I awoke to an earthquake. I have one minute to tell you about it.
I was not scared. On the contrary, I felt a connection with this planet that I hadn't felt before. The earth seemed almost... ALIVE.
The shake itself lasted only about four or five seconds, and there was one tremor about five minutes afterwards. Yet, it was most extraordinary. I could have never imagined the feeling of awe that accompanied it. To anyone who has not yet experienced a small earthquake, I highly recommend you go out and find one. ;)
Ha ga ga ga, well blows me down!!!
I'm off to Kyoto tomorrow morning for five days. Going to Kyoto in the fall will be a dream come true.
I was not scared. On the contrary, I felt a connection with this planet that I hadn't felt before. The earth seemed almost... ALIVE.
The shake itself lasted only about four or five seconds, and there was one tremor about five minutes afterwards. Yet, it was most extraordinary. I could have never imagined the feeling of awe that accompanied it. To anyone who has not yet experienced a small earthquake, I highly recommend you go out and find one. ;)
Ha ga ga ga, well blows me down!!!
I'm off to Kyoto tomorrow morning for five days. Going to Kyoto in the fall will be a dream come true.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Was it Something I Ate?
Have noticed some strange trees around town with orange-colored tomatos growing on them. Turns out those tomatos are really persimmons, and they are neither acidic nor poisonous, as their appearance had convinced me. I was given three today, and shared another with the teacher who had picked them at his father's farm. It was sweet and fleshy, like a peach, but had a flavor closer to honeydew. Another first time experience. I hear they're not the same as American persimmons:
http://www.hort.purdue.edu/ext/senior/fruits/persimmon1.htm
Right now, I'm in school. Actually, I'm alone in the staff room. It's pretty rare that the staff room is empty, but everyone is off preparing for the school festival next Sunday. I won't see it. I'm taking a trip to Kyoto, but I'll also have switched into my second junior high(appropriately named 'Arao Junior High School #2') by that time.
I'm glad that the staff room is empty right now because of the spider on my face. People can't stop staring at it. Of course the whole point was to make them curious, but I'm happy to have a short break from all the attention.
As you know, Halloween, the mother of all holidays, is just around the corner. And as you may or may not know, Halloween holds a special place in my heart. So I decided to make my feelings known, and to aid in the education process I drew a spider in its web on my face. I had to do it with a stubby brown eyeliner pencil and some impossible yellow and black stuff that was labeled makeup in the store... but the kids know what it is and it makes them say 'ehhhh??' really loudly when they pass by. I wrote a short Halloween story and had it translated into Japanese so they can read it and understand that there is a method to my madness. Anyway, Happy Halloween everyone, hee hee ha ha...
http://www.hort.purdue.edu/ext/senior/fruits/persimmon1.htm
Right now, I'm in school. Actually, I'm alone in the staff room. It's pretty rare that the staff room is empty, but everyone is off preparing for the school festival next Sunday. I won't see it. I'm taking a trip to Kyoto, but I'll also have switched into my second junior high(appropriately named 'Arao Junior High School #2') by that time.
I'm glad that the staff room is empty right now because of the spider on my face. People can't stop staring at it. Of course the whole point was to make them curious, but I'm happy to have a short break from all the attention.
As you know, Halloween, the mother of all holidays, is just around the corner. And as you may or may not know, Halloween holds a special place in my heart. So I decided to make my feelings known, and to aid in the education process I drew a spider in its web on my face. I had to do it with a stubby brown eyeliner pencil and some impossible yellow and black stuff that was labeled makeup in the store... but the kids know what it is and it makes them say 'ehhhh??' really loudly when they pass by. I wrote a short Halloween story and had it translated into Japanese so they can read it and understand that there is a method to my madness. Anyway, Happy Halloween everyone, hee hee ha ha...
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Taiko Arcade Drumming, sigh...
Among other things, I am now in love.
There's this arcade game in the City Mall that has recently acquired the number one spot for my attention. It's the taiko drumming game. He's how it works, and why I love it.
Imagine that before you is a medium-sized taiko drum, in your hands, two rubber drumsticks. You look up at the screen, and a menu appears. You select song #17 from over 50 possible choices. #17 is getting hard, because the difficulty level increases as the numbers get higher. The song choices vary from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood-type kiddy jingles to space rock to quasi-metal. Your song sounds like the disco version of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. After selecting the song, you get a little four measure intro, while you try to catch the beat and poom!-- here it goes!! You follow the smiley faces that appear on the screen, and when they get to a certain point on the screen, you hit the drum. Four red smiley faces appear. Bam bam bam bam! You hit the center of the drum each time. A blue face goes by and you hit the rim, klack!, but you were a beat late, so no points. A yellow face is stretched out on the screen, and you bend your knees and, bada bada bada bada, you roll as fast as possible. Your roll was really fast, so you doubled your score! Then, a big, red, mean face appears, and you wham the drum with both sticks at once, POW!!; then your song is over. After a second, the game tells you that your accuracy was 94%, you hit 46 smileys, you missed three, and you completely missed only five times. Your score is 26,639.
Now your friend Shiho wants to play, so you switch to two-player mode. She gets on the other drum and plays with you at the same time. Sometimes the game lets you fill in the beat for your friend, sometimes she hits and fills in your beats, making a whole new complex, brilliant rhythm. In this run, the beats get super fast and complicated, and your whole body gets into the rhythm. You lose to her by only 478 points, but your accuracy was better this time!
I think playing this game should be manditory for all people studying music in school, and should be part of the requirement to finish any university degree, just because it's so awesome. This game is hot, and I'm in love with it on many levels. It's too bad it's 200 yen($2!!) a pop; I'm trying not to go broke!!
There's this arcade game in the City Mall that has recently acquired the number one spot for my attention. It's the taiko drumming game. He's how it works, and why I love it.
Imagine that before you is a medium-sized taiko drum, in your hands, two rubber drumsticks. You look up at the screen, and a menu appears. You select song #17 from over 50 possible choices. #17 is getting hard, because the difficulty level increases as the numbers get higher. The song choices vary from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood-type kiddy jingles to space rock to quasi-metal. Your song sounds like the disco version of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. After selecting the song, you get a little four measure intro, while you try to catch the beat and poom!-- here it goes!! You follow the smiley faces that appear on the screen, and when they get to a certain point on the screen, you hit the drum. Four red smiley faces appear. Bam bam bam bam! You hit the center of the drum each time. A blue face goes by and you hit the rim, klack!, but you were a beat late, so no points. A yellow face is stretched out on the screen, and you bend your knees and, bada bada bada bada, you roll as fast as possible. Your roll was really fast, so you doubled your score! Then, a big, red, mean face appears, and you wham the drum with both sticks at once, POW!!; then your song is over. After a second, the game tells you that your accuracy was 94%, you hit 46 smileys, you missed three, and you completely missed only five times. Your score is 26,639.
Now your friend Shiho wants to play, so you switch to two-player mode. She gets on the other drum and plays with you at the same time. Sometimes the game lets you fill in the beat for your friend, sometimes she hits and fills in your beats, making a whole new complex, brilliant rhythm. In this run, the beats get super fast and complicated, and your whole body gets into the rhythm. You lose to her by only 478 points, but your accuracy was better this time!
I think playing this game should be manditory for all people studying music in school, and should be part of the requirement to finish any university degree, just because it's so awesome. This game is hot, and I'm in love with it on many levels. It's too bad it's 200 yen($2!!) a pop; I'm trying not to go broke!!
Monday, October 18, 2004
Now Aspiring to Teach
I came inside the house just now to find a lizard crawling into my briefcase.
I was coming back from the video store, where I'd rented Karate Kid in Japanese(i.e., 'Best-o Kid'). We've been watching it in English in a ninth grade class, but it's way too hard for the students to follow the plot in English.
They're supposed to be thinking about the big question, 'Why did Julie Sensei pick this movie?', and answering several fun questions about cultural differences and phrases they recognize. I wish that we could have some sort of in depth discussion about Mr. Miyagi being a first generation Japanese-American, or the differences between the American sensei's approach to martial arts and Mr. Miyagi's, or Daniel's growth through the movie, but alas, my wishing is my downfall. I cannot access these young minds; I can't force them to be interested in something that may never be of use to them. So I just focus on planting the seed of curiousity which may or may not sprout one day. That's all I can do.
As you can see, I'm beginning to give up hope that I have a purpose as an ALT. That, I take as a very good thing. It signifies to me that I'm changing; that Japan/my experience is changing me in some way. Losing hope is like having growing pains, one might say: it hurts in one way, but eventually it'll transform you into something with a greater understanding of the world.
My new question these days has become, 'how do I be a good teacher?'. I no longer think that I can be the best teacher, the super ALT that will speak Japanese in three months, that will make friends with all the teachers, and earn the respect of all the students. Now I'm just interested in being a good teacher. I believe that starts with good ideas and a good motivation for teaching. So, I'm determined to teach things that the students can find immediately useful, such as crafts, scavenger hunts, letter-writing(working on penpals in the US), intriguing games and activities, i.e., focusing on what they know and extending just beyond it. These kinds of things are what make me come alive when I teach. Come to think of it, isn't that what I always found so wondeful about my favorite teachers, that they had found something that had made them come alive? (Thanks especially to Manson, for reminding me :) )
Have you got an 'active' idea for this aspiring teacher?
I was coming back from the video store, where I'd rented Karate Kid in Japanese(i.e., 'Best-o Kid'). We've been watching it in English in a ninth grade class, but it's way too hard for the students to follow the plot in English.
They're supposed to be thinking about the big question, 'Why did Julie Sensei pick this movie?', and answering several fun questions about cultural differences and phrases they recognize. I wish that we could have some sort of in depth discussion about Mr. Miyagi being a first generation Japanese-American, or the differences between the American sensei's approach to martial arts and Mr. Miyagi's, or Daniel's growth through the movie, but alas, my wishing is my downfall. I cannot access these young minds; I can't force them to be interested in something that may never be of use to them. So I just focus on planting the seed of curiousity which may or may not sprout one day. That's all I can do.
As you can see, I'm beginning to give up hope that I have a purpose as an ALT. That, I take as a very good thing. It signifies to me that I'm changing; that Japan/my experience is changing me in some way. Losing hope is like having growing pains, one might say: it hurts in one way, but eventually it'll transform you into something with a greater understanding of the world.
My new question these days has become, 'how do I be a good teacher?'. I no longer think that I can be the best teacher, the super ALT that will speak Japanese in three months, that will make friends with all the teachers, and earn the respect of all the students. Now I'm just interested in being a good teacher. I believe that starts with good ideas and a good motivation for teaching. So, I'm determined to teach things that the students can find immediately useful, such as crafts, scavenger hunts, letter-writing(working on penpals in the US), intriguing games and activities, i.e., focusing on what they know and extending just beyond it. These kinds of things are what make me come alive when I teach. Come to think of it, isn't that what I always found so wondeful about my favorite teachers, that they had found something that had made them come alive? (Thanks especially to Manson, for reminding me :) )
Have you got an 'active' idea for this aspiring teacher?
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Swords, or, Want to See My Scar?
I'm just back from a visit to Arao's very own swordmaker's house. It was my second trip to see (Genrokuro) Matsunaga-san, who is nationally renowned for his katana-making skills, but locally, a virtual unknown. I found him because I happened to noticed a small cartoon character of a man forging a katana on a tourist map when I first arrived, and I kept pushing someone to tell me if a katanamaker really existed here, and if so, to help me meet the guy. Finally, I was informed that someone in my very office at the Board of Education was friends with him, and he called him up and arranged a time for me and a fellow martial artist to go over to his house.
When we arrived on that night, we were greeted by a good ten-man crew of Japanese guests, and one wide-eyed young foreigner from Switzerland who spoke no Japanese. The Japanese guests were Iaido(the art of drawing/cutting with a sword)practitioners, part of the katanamaker's regular gang, I imagined, and the Swiss fellow was doing a one-week homestay with a friend of Matsunaga's, so he was joining them by pure luck that night.
We arrived and were invited to join in the feast. My friend speaks Japanese, so he was able to follow most of the conversation, but I sat in silence, and took in the sight of over twenty katanas in their hilts and wrappings, accompanied by a full set of samurai armor, comfortably resting in the room across the way.
Midway through, Matsunaga started a video that showed cutting demonstrations in several different locations. The Iaidoka made dynamic cuts through the tightly wrapped straw 'heads', for lack of the proper Japanese word, and many cut through the head three times. Some others cut as many as three heads it one continous movement. They all looked accomplished and impressive to me, but the pride and joy of Matsunaga seemed to be the one woman present, who also happened to be a foreigner. We learned that her name was Eliza, she lives in Washington D.C., and currently holds a 6th dan in Iaido. (We learned tonight that she is 3rd dan in Kendo, sings traditional Japanese music exquisitely, does traditional dance, and has a green belt in Aikijujitsu. I'm sure she must be well known in the U.S.) Matsunaga talked of her like she was his daughter--I think either he was her teacher, or they studied Iaido together for many years. She really stuck out in the videos because of being so different, even her kiai was a scream as opposed to the mens' more earthy yells, but they all seemed to take pride in demonstrating together, and she seemed as if she was entirely engrossed. We enjoyed watching the video very much, and noticed that several of the men on the tape were present at the table.
Tonight, I went back with my friend, and one more friend, of course hoping Matsunaga was going to forge a katana and we could watch. It turned out he wasn't forging tonight, but since we were the only guests this time, and both of my friends spoke Japanese, Matsunaga wasn't shy about bringing out several katanas, a tanto(knife) and two shotguns from the Edo period(1600's?) with sanskrit written on them. I wish I could've understood eveything he was saying about them, but luckily for me, one of my friends graciously attempted to translate what was being said whenever it was possible. No translation was needed, however, when he brought out the BIG sword. This was the longest sword any of us had ever seen(and my one friend actually practices Iaido). Matsunaga told us it was the original size of samurai swords from long ago. In order to draw the sword, he had to take a very wide stance, and twist his body as he pulled from the hilt. It must've been between 4 and 5 feet long--much longer than a regular sword, much heavier too, I'd assume. Love to see him forge one of those babies. He also went into a fascinating monologue on sepuku(ritual suicide), explaining with graphic gestures, the exact locations of the katana's entry and path of slicing for men and the tanto's entry for women. He explained how to tell from the blood splattering about on the walls and ceiling whether or not the samurai's second(assistant) had a good cut. He also noted that by observing the body afterward, it was possible to tell whether the samurai who was commiting sepuku was relaxed or tensed. And then he showed us the scar on his hand that he got in his schoolboy days from a mishap that occured when practicing drawing his sword left-handed.
Halfway in, he showed more tapes of the woman, Eliza, being interviewed on TV, doing Kendo, Aikijujitsu, singing, dancing, and of course, cutting. One of the few gaikokujin(foreigners/outsiders) on the inside, perhaps. She seemed totally in her element.
Matsunaga invited us back to his place to try our own hands at cutting with his swords(and probably to have fun watching us whack away with his precious, priceless beauties--I hope he gives us crappy ones in case we break them!). He also let us know when to come to observe him forging, and told us to leave the car and walk next time so we can join him in a drink afterwards!!
When we arrived on that night, we were greeted by a good ten-man crew of Japanese guests, and one wide-eyed young foreigner from Switzerland who spoke no Japanese. The Japanese guests were Iaido(the art of drawing/cutting with a sword)practitioners, part of the katanamaker's regular gang, I imagined, and the Swiss fellow was doing a one-week homestay with a friend of Matsunaga's, so he was joining them by pure luck that night.
We arrived and were invited to join in the feast. My friend speaks Japanese, so he was able to follow most of the conversation, but I sat in silence, and took in the sight of over twenty katanas in their hilts and wrappings, accompanied by a full set of samurai armor, comfortably resting in the room across the way.
Midway through, Matsunaga started a video that showed cutting demonstrations in several different locations. The Iaidoka made dynamic cuts through the tightly wrapped straw 'heads', for lack of the proper Japanese word, and many cut through the head three times. Some others cut as many as three heads it one continous movement. They all looked accomplished and impressive to me, but the pride and joy of Matsunaga seemed to be the one woman present, who also happened to be a foreigner. We learned that her name was Eliza, she lives in Washington D.C., and currently holds a 6th dan in Iaido. (We learned tonight that she is 3rd dan in Kendo, sings traditional Japanese music exquisitely, does traditional dance, and has a green belt in Aikijujitsu. I'm sure she must be well known in the U.S.) Matsunaga talked of her like she was his daughter--I think either he was her teacher, or they studied Iaido together for many years. She really stuck out in the videos because of being so different, even her kiai was a scream as opposed to the mens' more earthy yells, but they all seemed to take pride in demonstrating together, and she seemed as if she was entirely engrossed. We enjoyed watching the video very much, and noticed that several of the men on the tape were present at the table.
Tonight, I went back with my friend, and one more friend, of course hoping Matsunaga was going to forge a katana and we could watch. It turned out he wasn't forging tonight, but since we were the only guests this time, and both of my friends spoke Japanese, Matsunaga wasn't shy about bringing out several katanas, a tanto(knife) and two shotguns from the Edo period(1600's?) with sanskrit written on them. I wish I could've understood eveything he was saying about them, but luckily for me, one of my friends graciously attempted to translate what was being said whenever it was possible. No translation was needed, however, when he brought out the BIG sword. This was the longest sword any of us had ever seen(and my one friend actually practices Iaido). Matsunaga told us it was the original size of samurai swords from long ago. In order to draw the sword, he had to take a very wide stance, and twist his body as he pulled from the hilt. It must've been between 4 and 5 feet long--much longer than a regular sword, much heavier too, I'd assume. Love to see him forge one of those babies. He also went into a fascinating monologue on sepuku(ritual suicide), explaining with graphic gestures, the exact locations of the katana's entry and path of slicing for men and the tanto's entry for women. He explained how to tell from the blood splattering about on the walls and ceiling whether or not the samurai's second(assistant) had a good cut. He also noted that by observing the body afterward, it was possible to tell whether the samurai who was commiting sepuku was relaxed or tensed. And then he showed us the scar on his hand that he got in his schoolboy days from a mishap that occured when practicing drawing his sword left-handed.
Halfway in, he showed more tapes of the woman, Eliza, being interviewed on TV, doing Kendo, Aikijujitsu, singing, dancing, and of course, cutting. One of the few gaikokujin(foreigners/outsiders) on the inside, perhaps. She seemed totally in her element.
Matsunaga invited us back to his place to try our own hands at cutting with his swords(and probably to have fun watching us whack away with his precious, priceless beauties--I hope he gives us crappy ones in case we break them!). He also let us know when to come to observe him forging, and told us to leave the car and walk next time so we can join him in a drink afterwards!!
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Time
I just returned home from the first Japanese tutoring session I've had since I arrived in July. I'd been waiting for this night for so long. I've mentioned my poor Japanese skills in passing, but now I will admit that this is not a passing concern for me. I want to learn Japanese, but I haven't been able to. I've been too busy living in Japan, working, training, practicing, etc.
When I can study, I memorize small phrases or words I hear frequently or have looked up. My godsends have been the three language tapes I brought with me and my Japanese-English dictionary. If only I could switch August and September around I would have known what to study way back when I arrived, rather than sitting at my desk at the Board of Education twitling my thumbs for a month. I don't blame myself for not learning the Japanese language during that time. I blame the JET program for not giving me reasonable options of where and how to learn Japanese. I will say that there were classes offered in Kumamoto once a week, but they were very pricey. I went to a sample class and frankly, I wasn't impressed with the Japanese teacher's grasp of the English language--the teacher didn't make sense to me. Which is related to my issue with non-Japanese speakers teaching English in Japan, but that's another blog, I think.
What it all comes down to is that I want JET and Japan to be what I want them to be, I mean I demand it, but I only end up with a bruised skull from banging my head on the wall. I will learn Japanese slowly, not thoroughly or systematically, but slowly, with much effort. I will never know the answers to many of my questions about the language or about Japanese culture. Those who live in the box cannot see outside the box. The box is Japanese(all that the word implies). I love the box. The wrapping paper is beautiful--on the outside. From the inside I might've found some of the contents ugly or distasteful, but I will never be inside to know. Of course, I live in my own box. I wonder what that looks like from the outside?
I know that other people have been through this sort of experience before. I'm not the first foreigner to set foot on the shores of Nippon. But who wrote the book on 'Transitions of the the First-time Foreigner Living in Japan'? Boulder Book Store, do you read me, are you out there? Does this exist?? I hope what comes next is: foreigner relaxes, basking in the knowledge of things that cannot be changed. I didn't even intend to change anything, except myself. So that's got to be the point; my reality cannot exist here as it is. I must allow the blossom to wilt and drop, so the shoot can form a new bud, a fresh bloom for a new season. I take it one day at a time, and I also rely on knowledge to guide me.
The tutoring session went well. The teacher had to cancel for next week--she'll be out of town--little does she know, I'll be basking in the sunlight of acceptance.
til next time
When I can study, I memorize small phrases or words I hear frequently or have looked up. My godsends have been the three language tapes I brought with me and my Japanese-English dictionary. If only I could switch August and September around I would have known what to study way back when I arrived, rather than sitting at my desk at the Board of Education twitling my thumbs for a month. I don't blame myself for not learning the Japanese language during that time. I blame the JET program for not giving me reasonable options of where and how to learn Japanese. I will say that there were classes offered in Kumamoto once a week, but they were very pricey. I went to a sample class and frankly, I wasn't impressed with the Japanese teacher's grasp of the English language--the teacher didn't make sense to me. Which is related to my issue with non-Japanese speakers teaching English in Japan, but that's another blog, I think.
What it all comes down to is that I want JET and Japan to be what I want them to be, I mean I demand it, but I only end up with a bruised skull from banging my head on the wall. I will learn Japanese slowly, not thoroughly or systematically, but slowly, with much effort. I will never know the answers to many of my questions about the language or about Japanese culture. Those who live in the box cannot see outside the box. The box is Japanese(all that the word implies). I love the box. The wrapping paper is beautiful--on the outside. From the inside I might've found some of the contents ugly or distasteful, but I will never be inside to know. Of course, I live in my own box. I wonder what that looks like from the outside?
I know that other people have been through this sort of experience before. I'm not the first foreigner to set foot on the shores of Nippon. But who wrote the book on 'Transitions of the the First-time Foreigner Living in Japan'? Boulder Book Store, do you read me, are you out there? Does this exist?? I hope what comes next is: foreigner relaxes, basking in the knowledge of things that cannot be changed. I didn't even intend to change anything, except myself. So that's got to be the point; my reality cannot exist here as it is. I must allow the blossom to wilt and drop, so the shoot can form a new bud, a fresh bloom for a new season. I take it one day at a time, and I also rely on knowledge to guide me.
The tutoring session went well. The teacher had to cancel for next week--she'll be out of town--little does she know, I'll be basking in the sunlight of acceptance.
til next time
Friday, October 01, 2004
A Vent (a.k.a., can i have some interest with those fries?) + More on Aikido
I don't think there is one student in my junior high who wants to become fluent in English. I thought some kids would be interested in talking to me in English, or would want to ask me questions about America, or would want to know how to say this or that in English, or would show any interest in the English language or me as a foreigner whatsoever. But so far, what I get are shy glances, giggles, and many many many 'Herro's(not a joke). Now, this is partially a cultural thing. I'm pretty sure it is not common practice for students to stay after class to ask the teacher questions, and it is also not common practice for students to visit teachers after school. So I wonder how the students ever get to ask their questions. They certainly don't do it in class. This isn't my main frustration, though.
As you may already know, the structure of Japanese and English are very different, so different in fact, that English is not taught here(in Arao, at least) in terms of sentence structure. For example, 'I bit the dog' is not explained 'subject, verb(past tense), direct object'. It is explained 'I bit the dog' means 'blah blah blah' in Japanese. Please repeat after me, and memorize this sentence.
Isn't that an incredibly confusing way to teach a language!? Because of this kind of semi-'phrasebook' style of teaching, it seems to me that many children here think English is impossible to learn! They are taught that it is quite disorganized because of a lack of structure, yet who can blame them?
I can't understand: 1. why English language teaching was set up this way, 2. whether the true intention is for students to learn English, and 3. why I am here if the students gain nothing from my presence in the classroom. There are obviously cultural differences that I am overlooking, but I must say I'm astounded at the lack of interest in learning English!!
As an aside, I got a lot of questions about Aikido training in Japan since my last post. Let me address some of those:
As far as being a woman, I don't feel that I've been treated differently from the men in the dojo. If anything, I feel as if it's one of the only times I am not aware of being a woman. Most of the time in Japan, I am aware, not that being aware particularly bothers me, but I do notice the women serving tea, making flower arrangments for their boss' desk, etc., and women very easily take on these gender roles, as do men in their particular roles. But on the mat, the roles seem to fall away. I don't know why, but I think it's a blessing. Really.
Same goes for being a foreigner, except of course, for the language barrier. Earlier, I reported that I was able to intuit much of what was being said, which is still true. On the other hand, there are times when I'd really like to know what I'm doing wrong, or what the teacher said, and at those times I am lost. It can be somewhat overwhelming, but at least it gives me more inspiration to learn the language, ne?
Boulder Aikikai and Honda Sensei's dojos actually have a lot in common, but here are some differences I noticed: Training can be intense at both places, but here partners mutually agree to break for 5 minutes or so in the middle of class to rest. I'm still not used to that, so I don't break and the old guys love it. They seem to enjoy practicing straight through; it's the younger people that choose to sit out the most. Another difference is that here we follow our stretching warmups with footwork and breathwork practice. A different teacher leads stretches than footwork practice, and finally Honda teaches the main part of class. Class is in a budokan, a martial arts practice hall, so there are many other arts being practiced there while we train, including kendo, jujitsu, karate, iaido, and even Tae Kwon Do. It makes for a lively and noisy time. We have our own space though, so we don't worry about them and they don't worry about us. Class size varies, but average is about twenty. The dojo is about an hour and a half drive for me one way, a hefty little commute, but I think it's worth it.
And in reference to your question, Jay, about the tendency I noticed in people here towards nonaggression(maybe 'subdued' aggression is more accurate), Aikido fits in well with that kind of thinking. My understanding is that Aikido is designed to blend with an attacker's energy, to dissolve the point of impact, so yes, I think my observation holds true there. As far as nonconfrontation, people are not shy in their attacks, so I would say that's different than my observations off the mat. I haven't found a way to understand those two things together yet...
As you may already know, the structure of Japanese and English are very different, so different in fact, that English is not taught here(in Arao, at least) in terms of sentence structure. For example, 'I bit the dog' is not explained 'subject, verb(past tense), direct object'. It is explained 'I bit the dog' means 'blah blah blah' in Japanese. Please repeat after me, and memorize this sentence.
Isn't that an incredibly confusing way to teach a language!? Because of this kind of semi-'phrasebook' style of teaching, it seems to me that many children here think English is impossible to learn! They are taught that it is quite disorganized because of a lack of structure, yet who can blame them?
I can't understand: 1. why English language teaching was set up this way, 2. whether the true intention is for students to learn English, and 3. why I am here if the students gain nothing from my presence in the classroom. There are obviously cultural differences that I am overlooking, but I must say I'm astounded at the lack of interest in learning English!!
As an aside, I got a lot of questions about Aikido training in Japan since my last post. Let me address some of those:
As far as being a woman, I don't feel that I've been treated differently from the men in the dojo. If anything, I feel as if it's one of the only times I am not aware of being a woman. Most of the time in Japan, I am aware, not that being aware particularly bothers me, but I do notice the women serving tea, making flower arrangments for their boss' desk, etc., and women very easily take on these gender roles, as do men in their particular roles. But on the mat, the roles seem to fall away. I don't know why, but I think it's a blessing. Really.
Same goes for being a foreigner, except of course, for the language barrier. Earlier, I reported that I was able to intuit much of what was being said, which is still true. On the other hand, there are times when I'd really like to know what I'm doing wrong, or what the teacher said, and at those times I am lost. It can be somewhat overwhelming, but at least it gives me more inspiration to learn the language, ne?
Boulder Aikikai and Honda Sensei's dojos actually have a lot in common, but here are some differences I noticed: Training can be intense at both places, but here partners mutually agree to break for 5 minutes or so in the middle of class to rest. I'm still not used to that, so I don't break and the old guys love it. They seem to enjoy practicing straight through; it's the younger people that choose to sit out the most. Another difference is that here we follow our stretching warmups with footwork and breathwork practice. A different teacher leads stretches than footwork practice, and finally Honda teaches the main part of class. Class is in a budokan, a martial arts practice hall, so there are many other arts being practiced there while we train, including kendo, jujitsu, karate, iaido, and even Tae Kwon Do. It makes for a lively and noisy time. We have our own space though, so we don't worry about them and they don't worry about us. Class size varies, but average is about twenty. The dojo is about an hour and a half drive for me one way, a hefty little commute, but I think it's worth it.
And in reference to your question, Jay, about the tendency I noticed in people here towards nonaggression(maybe 'subdued' aggression is more accurate), Aikido fits in well with that kind of thinking. My understanding is that Aikido is designed to blend with an attacker's energy, to dissolve the point of impact, so yes, I think my observation holds true there. As far as nonconfrontation, people are not shy in their attacks, so I would say that's different than my observations off the mat. I haven't found a way to understand those two things together yet...
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Aikido
I've been hesitant to write about my experiences of Aikido in Japan to date, but I've decided to have a little faith that the words will come out right, and that they might mean something to someone. Here goes...
You may recall that I visited three Aikido dojos in the past two months, and I left off having trained at Honda Sensei's dojo for the first time a few weeks ago. Now, I've trained at Honda Sensei's a handful of times, and already it has left an impression on me. My impression? I am convinced that exceptional Aikido is alive and well in Japan.
It is not just Honda Sensei that impresses(more on that below). There is a group of men, his students and peers, I believe, ranging from 60s to early 70s who rock the dojo. I don't mean they cradle it and put it to sleep. I mean they ROCK the dojo. They are elegant, intense, spirited, full of ki[--if you are unfamiliar with this term, please ask your local martial arts master to give you a definition(sorry)]. They create an atmosphere of great integrity and support(reminiscent of Boulder Aikikai's base community, but perhaps 20-30+ years down the road :) ). They believe in the power and beauty of Aikido, and through training, they invite me to grow and blossom, too.
Yet, in emphasizing them, I deemphasize Honda Sensei, which I think is a mistake. Honda Sensei is an exceptional martial artist and he is an exceptional teacher--and please know that I will never say those things together lightly. I can't believe my good fortune for having met him here. Tonight, after numerous attempts, I have found that I am unable to describe him in writing. Some people are better to experience than to explain, don't you think?
I will risk sounding nutso for one minute right now. The other night at practice, I was paired with one of the 'elders'. Even though I don't speak much Japanese, I feel as though the language barrier disappears on the mat. Somehow, intuition breaks through barriers. We were practicing a basic kokyunage(breath/timing throw), and the guy began to express a flood of words to me. I didn't listen, instead I felt what he was saying. 'Reach up, up, up to the heavens,' he said, 'up even more, up, wait, wait, now touch the heavens!!! That's it!! Now--Breathe. Connect your breath to the heavens, and bring them here. Here, now. Connect to the heavens and bring heaven here to earth. Connect heaven with earth, and now move, express, throw.'
My lesson that night was to remember why I train in Aikido. It is about something, after all, isn't it? I train to experience the possible, to create the experience of the heavens(ideal realms) and the earth touching, cooexisting. I'm going to stop here because I don't want to blather on about the whole thing, but thought you might want to know some of my real thoughts about my Aikido experiences so far.
You may recall that I visited three Aikido dojos in the past two months, and I left off having trained at Honda Sensei's dojo for the first time a few weeks ago. Now, I've trained at Honda Sensei's a handful of times, and already it has left an impression on me. My impression? I am convinced that exceptional Aikido is alive and well in Japan.
It is not just Honda Sensei that impresses(more on that below). There is a group of men, his students and peers, I believe, ranging from 60s to early 70s who rock the dojo. I don't mean they cradle it and put it to sleep. I mean they ROCK the dojo. They are elegant, intense, spirited, full of ki[--if you are unfamiliar with this term, please ask your local martial arts master to give you a definition(sorry)]. They create an atmosphere of great integrity and support(reminiscent of Boulder Aikikai's base community, but perhaps 20-30+ years down the road :) ). They believe in the power and beauty of Aikido, and through training, they invite me to grow and blossom, too.
Yet, in emphasizing them, I deemphasize Honda Sensei, which I think is a mistake. Honda Sensei is an exceptional martial artist and he is an exceptional teacher--and please know that I will never say those things together lightly. I can't believe my good fortune for having met him here. Tonight, after numerous attempts, I have found that I am unable to describe him in writing. Some people are better to experience than to explain, don't you think?
I will risk sounding nutso for one minute right now. The other night at practice, I was paired with one of the 'elders'. Even though I don't speak much Japanese, I feel as though the language barrier disappears on the mat. Somehow, intuition breaks through barriers. We were practicing a basic kokyunage(breath/timing throw), and the guy began to express a flood of words to me. I didn't listen, instead I felt what he was saying. 'Reach up, up, up to the heavens,' he said, 'up even more, up, wait, wait, now touch the heavens!!! That's it!! Now--Breathe. Connect your breath to the heavens, and bring them here. Here, now. Connect to the heavens and bring heaven here to earth. Connect heaven with earth, and now move, express, throw.'
My lesson that night was to remember why I train in Aikido. It is about something, after all, isn't it? I train to experience the possible, to create the experience of the heavens(ideal realms) and the earth touching, cooexisting. I'm going to stop here because I don't want to blather on about the whole thing, but thought you might want to know some of my real thoughts about my Aikido experiences so far.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
The Greater Good
At some point in this week, my mind fell into track. My time here is now just shy of two months, and I believe I have just lately emerged from culture shock. Have no doubt, I'm still a ball of nerves when it comes to speaking Japanese, and I still have hairy moments in the classroom(today was my first time teaching 1st, 2nd and 3rd grade), but overall, I'm feeling more comfortable in Japan. In fact, I'd go as far to say that I'm growing to appreciate the Japanese way of being very much.
More and more, I am struck at how far people go to be courteous to one another, not to offend one another, and to show that they have anticipated the needs of others.
In America, we have a certain freedom to be as large as we like. I could walk into the office, throw my stuff on my desk, plop down and sigh loudly and, in America, no one would glance my way. In Japan, there is no allowance for that kind of 'rudeness'. I Place(sorry, can't find italics) my stuff down, because I need to show some respect for these things that I will be teaching with. I don't move suddenly, unless I want to attract attention and I don't sigh loudly, because it might distract others from their work. I sacrifice a bit of my own comfort to be certain to provide comfort for the greater good.
You might be thinking that this sounds so strange, or that I am grossly exaggerating or over-analyzing. It could be, but it doesn't matter because this is something I Feel(italics). I feel it is true. So, originally, my mind wasn't attuned to notice this stuff, but now I see. I can participate in this way of being, and therefore participate in the way of mutual respect and caring that is the ideal here, or choose personal comfort and isolation.
I have rarely felt more love from any group of people than I have from the Japanese communities I 'belong' to. I am lucky, in the sense that I have been accepted to participate with them.
More and more, I am struck at how far people go to be courteous to one another, not to offend one another, and to show that they have anticipated the needs of others.
In America, we have a certain freedom to be as large as we like. I could walk into the office, throw my stuff on my desk, plop down and sigh loudly and, in America, no one would glance my way. In Japan, there is no allowance for that kind of 'rudeness'. I Place(sorry, can't find italics) my stuff down, because I need to show some respect for these things that I will be teaching with. I don't move suddenly, unless I want to attract attention and I don't sigh loudly, because it might distract others from their work. I sacrifice a bit of my own comfort to be certain to provide comfort for the greater good.
You might be thinking that this sounds so strange, or that I am grossly exaggerating or over-analyzing. It could be, but it doesn't matter because this is something I Feel(italics). I feel it is true. So, originally, my mind wasn't attuned to notice this stuff, but now I see. I can participate in this way of being, and therefore participate in the way of mutual respect and caring that is the ideal here, or choose personal comfort and isolation.
I have rarely felt more love from any group of people than I have from the Japanese communities I 'belong' to. I am lucky, in the sense that I have been accepted to participate with them.
Friday, September 17, 2004
note
Things have definitely changed for the better for me in the past couple of days. I stopped wearing uncomfortable, formal clothes, like suits and button down shirts, and started wearing normal (decent-looking) stuff like all the other teachers. I think that's really helped me to relax and stop being so stiff. Also, my pronunciation has become more relaxed; the kid's actually don't like it when I over-articulate stuff. I gather new little tidbits about how they learn every day.
Today, I realized that they catch on to pronunciation much more easily if I say things first in a very static, non-expressive sort of way. Then, I go a little faster and start making the words sound more natural.
I notice that as I become more aware of these learning differences, the kids seem to enjoy the time more, and I feel more useful and appreciated.
Today, I realized that they catch on to pronunciation much more easily if I say things first in a very static, non-expressive sort of way. Then, I go a little faster and start making the words sound more natural.
I notice that as I become more aware of these learning differences, the kids seem to enjoy the time more, and I feel more useful and appreciated.
A Mother's Lullaby
Today I had to read the following story from the textbook to my 9th grade class. Keep in mind that they didn't understand most of what I was saying; it was listening practice:
A Mother’s Lullaby
A big, old tree stands by a road near the city of Hiroshima. Through the years, it has seen many things.
One summer night the tree heard a lullaby. A mother was singing to her little girl under the tree. They looked happy, and the song sounded sweet. But the tree remembered something sad.
“Yes, it was about sixty years ago. I heard a lullaby that night, too.”
On the morning of that day, a big bomb fell on the city of Hiroshima. Many people lost their lives, and many others were injured. They had burns all over their bodies. I was very sad when I saw those people.
It was a very hot day. Some of the people fell down near me. I said to them, “Come and rest in my shade. You’ll be all right soon.”
Night came. Some people were already dead. I heard a weak voice. It was a lullaby. A young girl was singing to a little boy.
“Mommy! Mommy!” the boy cried.
“Don’t cry,” the girl said. “Mommy is here.” Then she began to sing again.
She was very weak, but she tried to be a mother to the poor little boy. She held him in her arms like a real mother.
“Mommy,” the boy was still crying.
“Be a good boy,” said the girl. “You’ll be all right.” She held the boy more tightly and began to sing again.
After a while the boy stopped crying and quietly died. But the little mother did not stop singing. It was a sad lullaby. The girl’s voice became weaker and weaker.
Morning came and the sun rose, but the girl never moved again.
The End
Lovely, eh? Wrong, I think. I had to stop in the middle of reading so as not to cry. It seemed inappropriate for a 3rd year English class, where they barely have a grasp on "I like soccer" to be hearing this serious story, at the same time not understanding why 'Julie Sensei' is upset.
I had the teacher explain at the beginning of class that the topic is much more complex than, "On the morning of that day...", and I insisted on having a mini history lesson on WWII to explain the context. All in all, I never want to do that lesson again, but I will have to deal with it in other classes soon. Can I hear your input?
A Mother’s Lullaby
A big, old tree stands by a road near the city of Hiroshima. Through the years, it has seen many things.
One summer night the tree heard a lullaby. A mother was singing to her little girl under the tree. They looked happy, and the song sounded sweet. But the tree remembered something sad.
“Yes, it was about sixty years ago. I heard a lullaby that night, too.”
On the morning of that day, a big bomb fell on the city of Hiroshima. Many people lost their lives, and many others were injured. They had burns all over their bodies. I was very sad when I saw those people.
It was a very hot day. Some of the people fell down near me. I said to them, “Come and rest in my shade. You’ll be all right soon.”
Night came. Some people were already dead. I heard a weak voice. It was a lullaby. A young girl was singing to a little boy.
“Mommy! Mommy!” the boy cried.
“Don’t cry,” the girl said. “Mommy is here.” Then she began to sing again.
She was very weak, but she tried to be a mother to the poor little boy. She held him in her arms like a real mother.
“Mommy,” the boy was still crying.
“Be a good boy,” said the girl. “You’ll be all right.” She held the boy more tightly and began to sing again.
After a while the boy stopped crying and quietly died. But the little mother did not stop singing. It was a sad lullaby. The girl’s voice became weaker and weaker.
Morning came and the sun rose, but the girl never moved again.
The End
Lovely, eh? Wrong, I think. I had to stop in the middle of reading so as not to cry. It seemed inappropriate for a 3rd year English class, where they barely have a grasp on "I like soccer" to be hearing this serious story, at the same time not understanding why 'Julie Sensei' is upset.
I had the teacher explain at the beginning of class that the topic is much more complex than, "On the morning of that day...", and I insisted on having a mini history lesson on WWII to explain the context. All in all, I never want to do that lesson again, but I will have to deal with it in other classes soon. Can I hear your input?
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Kaishi Waza: Reversal Practice
I finally got the break I needed.
Today I went to 'Nisho', or 'Elementary School #2', to give four self-introductions and sit in on two other classes. The day began with the usual confusion. (Actually, the day began when I opened the refridgerator door and out plopped seven eggs. The egg holder had collapsed, and every one of those eggs broke right on the floor. That wasn't the break I was talking about, though.)
I was informed that first period is the sports festival practice in the gym. I was told, "So, you can change into your gym clothes and practice with the kids."
Gym clothes? Mass confusion spread when I told them I didn't bring any gym clothes. The teachers stood around and decided what to do--forever! This meeting of minds could've continued well into tomorrow, if I hadn't volunteered to practice in the clothes I was already wearing. And there was harmony on earth once again...
Sports festival practice was fun. I enjoyed being active and helpful when I was able, and spent the rest of the time taking pictures. (I'm working on attaching photos to my blogs.) The kids are learning really challenging, complicated athletic poses, like pyramids and two-person hand stands. It amazing: every kid participates, even if they can't do every move. I was quite impressed.
After practice, it was on to teaching. By this time, I've really lost all sense of how to conduct a self-intro class. I'm no longer interested in talking about myself in a sort of 'My name is...' fashion. So I gave up trying to keep some sort of order. I thought, "If there is complete chaos in class today, I don't care. I don't care if they don't like me, or don't find me interesting. Today I'm going to roll with it and relax." I spoke Japanese in class. I swatted at students if they were rude. We built paper models in one class. One class, I let them ask me questions in Japanese the whole time and had the teacher translate for me. We played hide-and-go-seek at recess. We sang B-I-N-G-O on a whim. And I broke down and brought my violin to school for the first time, which was the best thing I'd done since I started teaching at all. I didn't realize that many of the kids had never seen, nonetheless heard a real violin. They were utterly captivated by my renditions of Let it Be and Life Goes On. They freaked out laughing when I played Beethoven's 5th. They all got out their recorders and helped me finish 'Edelweiss', and the teacher even joined in on guitar. The kids just adored me today, and several of them asked for my autograph!! Talk about total platonic reversal!! (That's a 'Ghostbuster's' quote, but is it 'platonic', or 'plutonic'? First person to tell me wins 5 points and a sticker ;) ) Today was the best day. I've been on the edge of breaking down for some time now, so this was just what I needed.
P.S. Aikido in Kumamoto rocked tonight and there were no hard feelings about missing the seminar on Sunday. There will be others, they told me.
Today I went to 'Nisho', or 'Elementary School #2', to give four self-introductions and sit in on two other classes. The day began with the usual confusion. (Actually, the day began when I opened the refridgerator door and out plopped seven eggs. The egg holder had collapsed, and every one of those eggs broke right on the floor. That wasn't the break I was talking about, though.)
I was informed that first period is the sports festival practice in the gym. I was told, "So, you can change into your gym clothes and practice with the kids."
Gym clothes? Mass confusion spread when I told them I didn't bring any gym clothes. The teachers stood around and decided what to do--forever! This meeting of minds could've continued well into tomorrow, if I hadn't volunteered to practice in the clothes I was already wearing. And there was harmony on earth once again...
Sports festival practice was fun. I enjoyed being active and helpful when I was able, and spent the rest of the time taking pictures. (I'm working on attaching photos to my blogs.) The kids are learning really challenging, complicated athletic poses, like pyramids and two-person hand stands. It amazing: every kid participates, even if they can't do every move. I was quite impressed.
After practice, it was on to teaching. By this time, I've really lost all sense of how to conduct a self-intro class. I'm no longer interested in talking about myself in a sort of 'My name is...' fashion. So I gave up trying to keep some sort of order. I thought, "If there is complete chaos in class today, I don't care. I don't care if they don't like me, or don't find me interesting. Today I'm going to roll with it and relax." I spoke Japanese in class. I swatted at students if they were rude. We built paper models in one class. One class, I let them ask me questions in Japanese the whole time and had the teacher translate for me. We played hide-and-go-seek at recess. We sang B-I-N-G-O on a whim. And I broke down and brought my violin to school for the first time, which was the best thing I'd done since I started teaching at all. I didn't realize that many of the kids had never seen, nonetheless heard a real violin. They were utterly captivated by my renditions of Let it Be and Life Goes On. They freaked out laughing when I played Beethoven's 5th. They all got out their recorders and helped me finish 'Edelweiss', and the teacher even joined in on guitar. The kids just adored me today, and several of them asked for my autograph!! Talk about total platonic reversal!! (That's a 'Ghostbuster's' quote, but is it 'platonic', or 'plutonic'? First person to tell me wins 5 points and a sticker ;) ) Today was the best day. I've been on the edge of breaking down for some time now, so this was just what I needed.
P.S. Aikido in Kumamoto rocked tonight and there were no hard feelings about missing the seminar on Sunday. There will be others, they told me.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Failures
We all have 'em, I guess.
This weekend I went to central Kyushu, to visit some JET friends and watch a movie. Aso Village is famous for its gorgeous hot springs and its active volcano, duly named Mount Aso. From where I am, it's more than an hour and a half drive through poorly labeled, winding, country roads. The last half hour, however, is unquestionably spectacular. The road begin to wind around hills, and green, green mountains begin to appear from around the corners. Ominous clouds hover above, only it turns out they aren't clouds, but smoke from the volcano. The mountains seem plump and swelling, almost like they are ready to burst. But the truth is that this is not water land. This is fire land. Once a year, thousands of people gather to throw fire. People swing burning bales of hay from long rope, and the countryside glows red. I hear it is to protect the new season's crops from insect invaders, but there will be more blogging to come after I take part in it in March...(mental note: visit Julie in March)
Where was I... ah, so I met my friends in Aso and we saw Biohazard 2. It was probably one of the most unimaginative films I've seen for some time, yet somehow barable (I think only) because of the concept of all-female superhuman leads.
I was looking at getting home around 1AM after the movie finished, so I thought to hurry on my way. I got directions and started the long drive. Ha, ha, if only it were that simple. I started the drive, but I could not finish the drive. It was only after I saw a sign that pointed three ways and all arrows said 'Route 30', after two hours of turning around and retracing, after stopping at three 7-Elevens(they abound) for directions did I turn back to Aso Village to crash on my kind friend's futon. Bummer. Did I say that loud enough? BUM--MER. I wanted to go to the Aikido seminar in the morning. I was more than an hour away and I didn't have my gear.
I readjusted my brain, and realized there was no way in Bouldersville I was going to be able to participate in the seminar. The drive to my place and then to the train station to meet the group would be 3 hours minimum. I resigned, and decided I would go straight to the train station, make an excuse about not training, and watch. That'd be okay.
Unfortunately, I didn't even get that luxury. I arrived at the station at precisely the designated time and I waited for someone to find me. (I'm easy to find in Japan.) I waited far beyond the group train's departure time. Something had gone wrong; they weren't there. I drove home. Turns out there were all on the train waiting for me, not inside the station. Just my luck.
I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and experimenting with a new bento box recipe. Those mini fish that they sprinkle on everything here, combined with some pickled veggies and some rice makes quite a tasty lunch. I have the recipe if anyone wants it.
This weekend I went to central Kyushu, to visit some JET friends and watch a movie. Aso Village is famous for its gorgeous hot springs and its active volcano, duly named Mount Aso. From where I am, it's more than an hour and a half drive through poorly labeled, winding, country roads. The last half hour, however, is unquestionably spectacular. The road begin to wind around hills, and green, green mountains begin to appear from around the corners. Ominous clouds hover above, only it turns out they aren't clouds, but smoke from the volcano. The mountains seem plump and swelling, almost like they are ready to burst. But the truth is that this is not water land. This is fire land. Once a year, thousands of people gather to throw fire. People swing burning bales of hay from long rope, and the countryside glows red. I hear it is to protect the new season's crops from insect invaders, but there will be more blogging to come after I take part in it in March...(mental note: visit Julie in March)
Where was I... ah, so I met my friends in Aso and we saw Biohazard 2. It was probably one of the most unimaginative films I've seen for some time, yet somehow barable (I think only) because of the concept of all-female superhuman leads.
I was looking at getting home around 1AM after the movie finished, so I thought to hurry on my way. I got directions and started the long drive. Ha, ha, if only it were that simple. I started the drive, but I could not finish the drive. It was only after I saw a sign that pointed three ways and all arrows said 'Route 30', after two hours of turning around and retracing, after stopping at three 7-Elevens(they abound) for directions did I turn back to Aso Village to crash on my kind friend's futon. Bummer. Did I say that loud enough? BUM--MER. I wanted to go to the Aikido seminar in the morning. I was more than an hour away and I didn't have my gear.
I readjusted my brain, and realized there was no way in Bouldersville I was going to be able to participate in the seminar. The drive to my place and then to the train station to meet the group would be 3 hours minimum. I resigned, and decided I would go straight to the train station, make an excuse about not training, and watch. That'd be okay.
Unfortunately, I didn't even get that luxury. I arrived at the station at precisely the designated time and I waited for someone to find me. (I'm easy to find in Japan.) I waited far beyond the group train's departure time. Something had gone wrong; they weren't there. I drove home. Turns out there were all on the train waiting for me, not inside the station. Just my luck.
I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and experimenting with a new bento box recipe. Those mini fish that they sprinkle on everything here, combined with some pickled veggies and some rice makes quite a tasty lunch. I have the recipe if anyone wants it.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Your questions answered here
Question: Where exactly are you?
Answer: I'm on Kyushu, the southernmost island of Japan. Kyushu is shaped roughly like a backwards 'c', and my town is on the western coast on the inside of the 'c'. The town, called Arao, is midway between the two larger cities of Kumamoto and Fukuoka.
Q: What are you doing there?
A: I was hired by the JET(Japanese Exchange and Teaching Program) to teach English in area elementary and middle schools. The other part of my job is to aid in 'internationalizing' Japan. I do that by participating in cultural events and generally just by being here.
Q: Why did you go to Japan?
A: Well, my profile gives the easy answer, to face new challenges in order to help me grow. The real answer, of course, is complex. I am here to study Aikido, to get a new perspective on my life, to continue the journey towards peace and joy... The more I think about this question, the more I think the answer has to do with becoming less selfish and more giving.
Q: How's your Japanese coming along?
A: The Japanese tutor has returned from England finally, so we start lessons this Monday. I'm extremely surprised at how little Japanese I have learned thus far. Having someone to practice with would make all the difference.
Q: Well then, don't you have any friends, Julie?
A: Umm, you see, well, it's hard to make friends when you don't speak the language, and pretty much no one speaks my language. I have one Japanese friend my age, and some work friends. I have several non-Japanese friends who live from 20 minutes to 2 hours away. Gimme a break, it's only been a month and a half!
Q: Can you drink the water?
A: Kyushu's water is renowned for being the purest in Japan, and I like the visions I get after I drink it.
Q: What is the actual time difference?
A: Believe it or not, that depends on where you are. If you are in Mountain time, I am 15 hours ahead of you. Eastern daylight time, 13 hours ahead. Western time, uh, 16 hours ahead, by my(sometimes faulty) calculations. (BTW, Japan does not observe daylight savings time.)
Q: Does any one here talk about September 11th?
A: Yes, one teacher brought up the subject yesterday. He told me Japan is thinking of the US, and people remember the anniversary. He said people were torn up and shocked, as we were, on that sad day. He sends well wishes to you all today, as do I.
You can always ask me anything by posting a comment or emailing me.
Answer: I'm on Kyushu, the southernmost island of Japan. Kyushu is shaped roughly like a backwards 'c', and my town is on the western coast on the inside of the 'c'. The town, called Arao, is midway between the two larger cities of Kumamoto and Fukuoka.
Q: What are you doing there?
A: I was hired by the JET(Japanese Exchange and Teaching Program) to teach English in area elementary and middle schools. The other part of my job is to aid in 'internationalizing' Japan. I do that by participating in cultural events and generally just by being here.
Q: Why did you go to Japan?
A: Well, my profile gives the easy answer, to face new challenges in order to help me grow. The real answer, of course, is complex. I am here to study Aikido, to get a new perspective on my life, to continue the journey towards peace and joy... The more I think about this question, the more I think the answer has to do with becoming less selfish and more giving.
Q: How's your Japanese coming along?
A: The Japanese tutor has returned from England finally, so we start lessons this Monday. I'm extremely surprised at how little Japanese I have learned thus far. Having someone to practice with would make all the difference.
Q: Well then, don't you have any friends, Julie?
A: Umm, you see, well, it's hard to make friends when you don't speak the language, and pretty much no one speaks my language. I have one Japanese friend my age, and some work friends. I have several non-Japanese friends who live from 20 minutes to 2 hours away. Gimme a break, it's only been a month and a half!
Q: Can you drink the water?
A: Kyushu's water is renowned for being the purest in Japan, and I like the visions I get after I drink it.
Q: What is the actual time difference?
A: Believe it or not, that depends on where you are. If you are in Mountain time, I am 15 hours ahead of you. Eastern daylight time, 13 hours ahead. Western time, uh, 16 hours ahead, by my(sometimes faulty) calculations. (BTW, Japan does not observe daylight savings time.)
Q: Does any one here talk about September 11th?
A: Yes, one teacher brought up the subject yesterday. He told me Japan is thinking of the US, and people remember the anniversary. He said people were torn up and shocked, as we were, on that sad day. He sends well wishes to you all today, as do I.
You can always ask me anything by posting a comment or emailing me.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Confused Giggling Aikido
My life is completely confusing to me. My work schedule would seem straight forward: I go to Arao Junior High #1 every day but Wednesday, on which day I go to an elementary school. That part, I've got down. It's the further details that elude me. The number of classes that I teach per day is three to six, starting at a different time every day. The grade level varies from 7th-9th in the junior high, and 1st-6th in the elementary, so the student's knowledge varies from class to class. The teachers' English-speaking abilities are different from class to class, too. Not one teacher here is even close to fluent.
When I find myself confused, I may go to recess to get my mind off it. Unfortunately, I spent all of recess yesterday not understanding the rules to some sort of dodgeball frisbee. Or I go to a traditional class, like Japanese calligraphy, where I am gratefully accepted as a student, but my writing looks like children's hand-painting. Music class sounds like fun--anybody know the Japanese composer Kusaku Yamada? I guess I am learning!
But, the best part about the job is still the kids. They are quirky and funny, in a giggly, overly cute sort of way. Some of them are extremely smart and creative, and they all work very hard when they are focused, without exception.
Last night I finally went to Honda Sensei's Aikido class in Kumamoto. It was a wonderful experience, with many older Japanese yudansha present. Quite an energetic, intense class, as is Honda Sensei himself. I will be attending again(the fee is only about $20 a month). This Sunday, however, there is a special seminar with Suganuma Sensei(9th? dan from Fukuoka, north of me) for free!! I know at least one of you knows of him. For those who are interested who don't, check out
http://shoheijuku.tripod.com/
When I find myself confused, I may go to recess to get my mind off it. Unfortunately, I spent all of recess yesterday not understanding the rules to some sort of dodgeball frisbee. Or I go to a traditional class, like Japanese calligraphy, where I am gratefully accepted as a student, but my writing looks like children's hand-painting. Music class sounds like fun--anybody know the Japanese composer Kusaku Yamada? I guess I am learning!
But, the best part about the job is still the kids. They are quirky and funny, in a giggly, overly cute sort of way. Some of them are extremely smart and creative, and they all work very hard when they are focused, without exception.
Last night I finally went to Honda Sensei's Aikido class in Kumamoto. It was a wonderful experience, with many older Japanese yudansha present. Quite an energetic, intense class, as is Honda Sensei himself. I will be attending again(the fee is only about $20 a month). This Sunday, however, there is a special seminar with Suganuma Sensei(9th? dan from Fukuoka, north of me) for free!! I know at least one of you knows of him. For those who are interested who don't, check out
http://shoheijuku.tripod.com/
Monday, September 06, 2004
Omoshiroi desu ('It's fun!')
Today in class, we actually had fun.
Because I'd been asked to do self-introductions for the first 17 classes, I'd spent all this time trying to figure out ways to present myself. Somehow, I wasn't able to find a groove last week. The energy level in the classes would go from sleepy to wildly energetic and back to sleepy. So, today I tweaked the whole lesson plan and instead of me giving a long self-intro lesson, I had them write their favorite hobbies, sports, etc. on a piece of paper, and draw pictures if they so desired. That whole idea really worked beautifully. All three classes were engaged, calm and focused. Some kids drew some amazing pictures, and it made me smile to see kids write their favorite sport was babmitton or softtessis ball. One kid wrote his favorite movie was Tira menetar 3. Can you imagine me sounding it out and realizing his Japanesification was grammatically correct?
Earlier, ironically, I had chosen the phrase "Omoshiroi desu"(It's fun) as my learning Japanese phrase-of-the-day. Heck, this job could turn out to be enjoyable after all.
Wednesday, duh duh duhhhh, I teach at my first elementary school. A whole other ball of wax there. I've got no clue how to plan a lesson for kids that young. Luckily, you are all far enough away from me that no one can shoot me when I tell you we are going to sing the Barney song("I love you, you love me...) as a warm up, since I don't know any of the 'cool' warm up songs listed in the JET teaching manual. I figure we'll keep it real simple, and play lots of games.
Finally, we are expecting the third typhoon since my arrival to hit late tonight or early morning. School is canceled tomorrow, so depending on the ferocity of the storm I will either go to the Board of Education for a day of sit-and-do-nothing, or take one of my days of paid holiday. Wish us all luck!
Because I'd been asked to do self-introductions for the first 17 classes, I'd spent all this time trying to figure out ways to present myself. Somehow, I wasn't able to find a groove last week. The energy level in the classes would go from sleepy to wildly energetic and back to sleepy. So, today I tweaked the whole lesson plan and instead of me giving a long self-intro lesson, I had them write their favorite hobbies, sports, etc. on a piece of paper, and draw pictures if they so desired. That whole idea really worked beautifully. All three classes were engaged, calm and focused. Some kids drew some amazing pictures, and it made me smile to see kids write their favorite sport was babmitton or softtessis ball. One kid wrote his favorite movie was Tira menetar 3. Can you imagine me sounding it out and realizing his Japanesification was grammatically correct?
Earlier, ironically, I had chosen the phrase "Omoshiroi desu"(It's fun) as my learning Japanese phrase-of-the-day. Heck, this job could turn out to be enjoyable after all.
Wednesday, duh duh duhhhh, I teach at my first elementary school. A whole other ball of wax there. I've got no clue how to plan a lesson for kids that young. Luckily, you are all far enough away from me that no one can shoot me when I tell you we are going to sing the Barney song("I love you, you love me...) as a warm up, since I don't know any of the 'cool' warm up songs listed in the JET teaching manual. I figure we'll keep it real simple, and play lots of games.
Finally, we are expecting the third typhoon since my arrival to hit late tonight or early morning. School is canceled tomorrow, so depending on the ferocity of the storm I will either go to the Board of Education for a day of sit-and-do-nothing, or take one of my days of paid holiday. Wish us all luck!
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Lessons taught, lessons learned
39 noisy, wide-eyed students watch me curiously as I enter the room. I glance at them, but mostly I focus on the small teacher's desk in front. I set my bag on the table next to the desk and remove several large, colorful phrase cards from it. I shuffle through some other items in my bag, checking carefully to see that they are in order. I smile at the JTE(Japanese Teacher of English). She smiles back encouragingly. We nod to each other and she quiets the students in their seats. My first lesson begins...
Currently, in Japan, I am exhausted. I have given two self-introduction classes of 17 total I will give in this school alone. I will spent about two months here, teaching basic lessons every day but Wednesday. On Wednesdays I go out to give a self-introduction at the various elementary schools in town.
Five middle schools with approximately 15 introductions apiece(an intro to every class in every grade), 12 elementary schools, visiting twice a year... that makes [(5x15)+(12x2)=] 99 self-introductions. Someone please correct my math!
See, last year they had two of me. Well, they had two assistant English teachers, but due to lack of funding and some other issues, there's just one now. So I have to cover the amount of schools it took two people to cover for the past two years.
I was really shocked today when I realized that one of the English teachers here(there are four) doesn't understand English. She really has no grasp of the English language, and even that's being kind. We taught together this afternoon, and I couldn't say anything to her the whole class, because she would just look at me blankly. Someone could've shot me with a stun gun and I wouldn't have changed expression. How do we 'team teach' if we can't talk to each other?
My Japanese seems to have improved slightly. I can now say cool, good, cute, scary(cute and scary sound almost exactly alike--I found that one out the hard way ;) ) pretty and beautiful. I don't know how to say anything negative except the word scary. I guess that makes for a positive impression on anyone I try to speak to!!
My heart sends best wishes to all,
Julie
Currently, in Japan, I am exhausted. I have given two self-introduction classes of 17 total I will give in this school alone. I will spent about two months here, teaching basic lessons every day but Wednesday. On Wednesdays I go out to give a self-introduction at the various elementary schools in town.
Five middle schools with approximately 15 introductions apiece(an intro to every class in every grade), 12 elementary schools, visiting twice a year... that makes [(5x15)+(12x2)=] 99 self-introductions. Someone please correct my math!
See, last year they had two of me. Well, they had two assistant English teachers, but due to lack of funding and some other issues, there's just one now. So I have to cover the amount of schools it took two people to cover for the past two years.
I was really shocked today when I realized that one of the English teachers here(there are four) doesn't understand English. She really has no grasp of the English language, and even that's being kind. We taught together this afternoon, and I couldn't say anything to her the whole class, because she would just look at me blankly. Someone could've shot me with a stun gun and I wouldn't have changed expression. How do we 'team teach' if we can't talk to each other?
My Japanese seems to have improved slightly. I can now say cool, good, cute, scary(cute and scary sound almost exactly alike--I found that one out the hard way ;) ) pretty and beautiful. I don't know how to say anything negative except the word scary. I guess that makes for a positive impression on anyone I try to speak to!!
My heart sends best wishes to all,
Julie
Thursday, September 02, 2004
My lunch: in 1000 words or less
More good food. I had this in my bento box the other day(keep in mind, this is the standard lunch I can buy at the Board of Education office):
sweet and sour pineapple, potato and onion stir-fry
bean sprouts and green peppers fried in fish oil
clear noodles with carrot and cucumber strips, topped with sesame seeds tossed lightly in vinegar
two fried fish balls(one was white fish and the other was squid, I think)
chopped peas, carrots and onions in a yellow potato paste
fried tarot(?) root, vegetables in batter
scrambled egg wrapped in a tidy roll
unidentified pink and white squishy vegetable
fried mushroom and carrot strips
two pieces of bright yellow pickled radish
large rice ball with pickled plum inside
The only thing I did not eat was the brown gelatinous cube(generally unexciting in flavor, in my past experience).
I paid 500 yen (about $5) for this meal. All servings are microscopic, but tasty all the same.
Japanese food continues to fascinate and delight my tastebuds. I try everything(no meat). I figure if I keep trying natto(fermented soy beans, reminiscent of dirty socks) I may build up a healthy tolerance to the flavor. I had natto pizza last week. It almost hid the smell.
sweet and sour pineapple, potato and onion stir-fry
bean sprouts and green peppers fried in fish oil
clear noodles with carrot and cucumber strips, topped with sesame seeds tossed lightly in vinegar
two fried fish balls(one was white fish and the other was squid, I think)
chopped peas, carrots and onions in a yellow potato paste
fried tarot(?) root, vegetables in batter
scrambled egg wrapped in a tidy roll
unidentified pink and white squishy vegetable
fried mushroom and carrot strips
two pieces of bright yellow pickled radish
large rice ball with pickled plum inside
The only thing I did not eat was the brown gelatinous cube(generally unexciting in flavor, in my past experience).
I paid 500 yen (about $5) for this meal. All servings are microscopic, but tasty all the same.
Japanese food continues to fascinate and delight my tastebuds. I try everything(no meat). I figure if I keep trying natto(fermented soy beans, reminiscent of dirty socks) I may build up a healthy tolerance to the flavor. I had natto pizza last week. It almost hid the smell.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Today is the first day...
of the rest of my blog.
I understand that many people will never visit Japan. Many people have been to Japan before, and there are people who used to live in Japan who now only visit occasionally. Amazingly, some people currently live in Japan. This blog is for all of you, and also for those people than somehow misread the categories and think that they don't fit into one. I write so that we can connect. Through my sorrow and joy, anguish and triumph, agony and ecstasy(I think I'm going to like this blogging thing) this computer screen will allow me to stay in touch with you. I encourage you to respond to my posts, and continue to update me on your life on this site and at my regular address.
Now, on to the show!
I finally made a connection to the music world here. This past weekend I met a man named Tsunoda(sounds like 'sonata', fittingly) Sensei, who teaches violin and cello. I didn't quite know what to expect--lessons, a mini jam session, directions to the symphony hall in Kumamoto... He brought out the Pachelbel Canon. Good choice; I could tell he knew how to gage a musician's ability. We played it as a duet, first with violins, and afterwards with him on cello. I could tell he was impressed, which made me nervous. I didn't want to make him think I was better than I am. Better to impress at first than to flail one's arms, I guess, and so I let him be impressed. He was so impressed, actually, that he wanted me to come back and play more, which I will do tonight. He asked if I'd ever played Beethoven's Spring Sonata, which I hadn't--so he gave me a copy. Then, he took me and Mr. Nakayama, who had introduced us, to lunch at a ryokan, a traditional Japanese restaurant. There are times, I'm sure we all experienced them, where a situation becomes dreamlike, unreal in a way, and details come to the fore. Walking into the ryokan, sneaking glances at the sculptured stone gardens, the flowers, the dolls, and then into the private room to eat... I left my mind and became life itself in order to take it all in. So beautiful--I could not speak for some time. And then, we started eating. Sashimi, sea urchin, shrimp, lotus root, ginko nuts(!), vegetable ball soup, lightly fried rice with pickled plums and other lively flavors inside, beer(of course), shochu(Japanese whiskey), all served by, you guessed it, women in kimonos. Mr. Tsunoda, did I not mention, is a chiropractor and Chinese herbalist by profession. Business is good, I'd judge. He said he visits this ryote about once a week. Needless to say, I never saw a bill. By the time lunch was over, we had determined that I would play the Beethoven sonata with his pianist friend soon, and would I join some of his friends in the Brandenburg #5?
So, it was one of the better days, here in Japan, on that day.
Today, as usual, I sit at my office desk, at the Board of Education, 390 Kunaideme, Arao City, Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan 864-8686. If the afflatus should strike, please write me a snail mail :)
P.S. Tomorrow the school term starts. Life is about to get a whole lot weirder... stay tuned
I understand that many people will never visit Japan. Many people have been to Japan before, and there are people who used to live in Japan who now only visit occasionally. Amazingly, some people currently live in Japan. This blog is for all of you, and also for those people than somehow misread the categories and think that they don't fit into one. I write so that we can connect. Through my sorrow and joy, anguish and triumph, agony and ecstasy(I think I'm going to like this blogging thing) this computer screen will allow me to stay in touch with you. I encourage you to respond to my posts, and continue to update me on your life on this site and at my regular address.
Now, on to the show!
I finally made a connection to the music world here. This past weekend I met a man named Tsunoda(sounds like 'sonata', fittingly) Sensei, who teaches violin and cello. I didn't quite know what to expect--lessons, a mini jam session, directions to the symphony hall in Kumamoto... He brought out the Pachelbel Canon. Good choice; I could tell he knew how to gage a musician's ability. We played it as a duet, first with violins, and afterwards with him on cello. I could tell he was impressed, which made me nervous. I didn't want to make him think I was better than I am. Better to impress at first than to flail one's arms, I guess, and so I let him be impressed. He was so impressed, actually, that he wanted me to come back and play more, which I will do tonight. He asked if I'd ever played Beethoven's Spring Sonata, which I hadn't--so he gave me a copy. Then, he took me and Mr. Nakayama, who had introduced us, to lunch at a ryokan, a traditional Japanese restaurant. There are times, I'm sure we all experienced them, where a situation becomes dreamlike, unreal in a way, and details come to the fore. Walking into the ryokan, sneaking glances at the sculptured stone gardens, the flowers, the dolls, and then into the private room to eat... I left my mind and became life itself in order to take it all in. So beautiful--I could not speak for some time. And then, we started eating. Sashimi, sea urchin, shrimp, lotus root, ginko nuts(!), vegetable ball soup, lightly fried rice with pickled plums and other lively flavors inside, beer(of course), shochu(Japanese whiskey), all served by, you guessed it, women in kimonos. Mr. Tsunoda, did I not mention, is a chiropractor and Chinese herbalist by profession. Business is good, I'd judge. He said he visits this ryote about once a week. Needless to say, I never saw a bill. By the time lunch was over, we had determined that I would play the Beethoven sonata with his pianist friend soon, and would I join some of his friends in the Brandenburg #5?
So, it was one of the better days, here in Japan, on that day.
Today, as usual, I sit at my office desk, at the Board of Education, 390 Kunaideme, Arao City, Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan 864-8686. If the afflatus should strike, please write me a snail mail :)
P.S. Tomorrow the school term starts. Life is about to get a whole lot weirder... stay tuned