Cold cold cold cold. November's brought some below freezing weather already. The school has no heating. The windows are left open much of the time. Emphasis is placed on resiliance and endurance, and no one complains. It's motivating, but at the same time nuts. I'm cold all the time, except when I'm near a heater. Anyone have have any insights on that Tibetan meditative practice of developing inner heat? ;) (actually, I'm okay)
I've been using the school computers since August to post blogs. I'd love to snazz up this blog some and also post more pictures. It's just that all the blogger controls are in Japanese... it seems that the broadband providers I've been speaking with can't locate my phone line at home, they've called me a couple of times, but I always have to have someone who speaks better than I can to call them back. Maybe I'll be able to post pictures again by Christmastime. But thanks for staying tuned regularly or periodically as the case may be.
I called my family this morning at 7:30am to be with them in spirit for Thanksgiving dinner. Cultural things are starting to take on a strange new meaning to me. I can't explain now because I'm too cold, but suffice to say it's interesting to be in a place where Thanksgiving goes largely uncelebrated.
A different kind of thanks comes to mind this year. My goal in Japan has been to become more giving. I never imagined I could become more giving by receiving kindness from others. So I feel thankful for the kindness the Japanese people I've met have shown me this year, and how I've been pushed to become more resilient and persistent. Lastly, I'm thankful when my family and friends support me and when they also allow me to support them. Those are wonderful things.
I tell of my day-to-day experiences in a funky Japanese town from my American viewpoint. This blog could also be called 'Bizarro World', 'Notes From Kyushu, a Smaller Island', or 'Teaching English in Japan: Smash Your Ego in 10 Easy Lessons."
I tell of my day-to-day experiences in a funky Japanese town from my American viewpoint. This blog could also be called 'Bizarro World', 'Notes From Kyushu, a Smaller Island', or 'Teaching English in Japan: Smash Your Ego in 10 Easy Lessons."
Friday, November 25, 2005
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Who's that girl in the suit?
Having not had much exposure to business attire in the past, it's taken some time to understand what is best to wear to school as a teacher. When I started this job last year, I wore a lot of bright-colored shirts and casual pants. As time has gone on, it's more often that I wear a dark suit jacket or skirt to school, with a pastel top. I understand now that if you're going to see the same people every day, wearing subdued colors calls less attention to you, and they can also see that you care about your job. While elementary school kids don't seem to care, high school kids, in their own uniforms, also seem to appreciate if I also dress professionally. Initially, I really resisted the idea of wearing business attire for my job, but over time I could see that what I wear at work affects other people besides just me.
I'm still filling in the gaps of my professional wardrobe. (Shoes are especially hard because I can rarely find them in size 9) It takes time, but it's become fun. I feel comfortable when I wear appropriate clothing to school and attractive if I can find beautiful but subdued combinations.
I'm still filling in the gaps of my professional wardrobe. (Shoes are especially hard because I can rarely find them in size 9) It takes time, but it's become fun. I feel comfortable when I wear appropriate clothing to school and attractive if I can find beautiful but subdued combinations.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Two Stories
I went to a cultural performance on Culture Day last Thursday. I didn't realize it was going to be a sort of 'matured person's' event. I went with Etsuko, who is getting to be matured, I guess, and we were late because her group of friends was performing last. She's been introducing me as her 'daughter,' which is awfully confusing for some people, but quite entertaining for the two of us.
Anyway, I was surprised when we went in she went all the way to the front of the auditorium in the middle of some lady doing a fan dance and sat down. She beckoned me then to follow her. So I went down in the middle of this performance, and a few minutes later Etsuko told me she had to go, to give her group some last words of encouragement before the performance. As soon as she left the auditorium, these two extremely old ladies sitting at the end of the row stood up, shuffled over and sat down next to me. One turned to me(and now there are three shamisen(Japanese stringed-instrument) players playing) and in a very loud voice said, 'Are you a Tai Chi teacher?' I looked at her and said, 'Uh, no. Not at all.' She says, 'Your mother said you were a Tai Chi teacher.' Now, everyone in the audience including those without hearing aids could probably hear her over the performance on stage. No one seemed to mind. I said, 'Oh, that's interesting, but she's not really my mother.' The ladies both looked at me like I was crazy.
I was on the train last night, returning from an Aikido seminar in Kumamoto. An old man sat down next to and started talking to me. From my experience, I know that if an old Japanese man starts talking to me out of the blue, the chances are good that he is drunk or he wants to talk about The Second World War. In this case, it was both. He asked me where I was from, but after about one minute into the conversation, I was somehow from Florida. I told him I was from Colorado, but he thought it was nice that I was from Florida, and what nice weather they have there. Not like when the bombs fell on Pearl Harbor. Actually, I'll just stop there. Suffice to say, he was a nice man who was a little sad to talk to. I've had maybe three experiences like that now...
Anyway, I was surprised when we went in she went all the way to the front of the auditorium in the middle of some lady doing a fan dance and sat down. She beckoned me then to follow her. So I went down in the middle of this performance, and a few minutes later Etsuko told me she had to go, to give her group some last words of encouragement before the performance. As soon as she left the auditorium, these two extremely old ladies sitting at the end of the row stood up, shuffled over and sat down next to me. One turned to me(and now there are three shamisen(Japanese stringed-instrument) players playing) and in a very loud voice said, 'Are you a Tai Chi teacher?' I looked at her and said, 'Uh, no. Not at all.' She says, 'Your mother said you were a Tai Chi teacher.' Now, everyone in the audience including those without hearing aids could probably hear her over the performance on stage. No one seemed to mind. I said, 'Oh, that's interesting, but she's not really my mother.' The ladies both looked at me like I was crazy.
I was on the train last night, returning from an Aikido seminar in Kumamoto. An old man sat down next to and started talking to me. From my experience, I know that if an old Japanese man starts talking to me out of the blue, the chances are good that he is drunk or he wants to talk about The Second World War. In this case, it was both. He asked me where I was from, but after about one minute into the conversation, I was somehow from Florida. I told him I was from Colorado, but he thought it was nice that I was from Florida, and what nice weather they have there. Not like when the bombs fell on Pearl Harbor. Actually, I'll just stop there. Suffice to say, he was a nice man who was a little sad to talk to. I've had maybe three experiences like that now...
The Hash
Every year, foreign English teachers(usually JETs) come together to run a kind of marathon. They call the marathon a 'Hash.' Two weekends ago there was a Hash in my town, Tamana City.
Two teachers in charge, called the 'hares', create a course and lay out checkpoints around the town for the runners. The poor runners, though, have no idea where the checkpoints are. That's the idea of the 'Hash,' to take a place on a map and have people discover the unique and interesting parts of that particular place. Not that I knew any of this before we started. I just knew to bring some 'running shoes and an open mind.'
The hares painted dots on the city's streets to show possible routes the runners could follow. When we saw the dots, we knew we were on a certain route. Their were true routes and dead-end routes. And there was food placed in coolers hidden strategically along the way. Eventually, the larger group of about twenty split into several small groups of people running and walking, searching for the finish all over town. That's how I made a new friend, 'Hide'. We ended up running most of the marathon as partners. We ran through a school, over top of a museum, passed famous hot springs, through endless twists and turns, and finally up a mountain and down a hunormous slide where the hares were waiting to take our pictures. So it was great fun, the kind of fun I didn't know people were still having. And making friends with Hide and the other teachers made it that much more enjoyable.
Two teachers in charge, called the 'hares', create a course and lay out checkpoints around the town for the runners. The poor runners, though, have no idea where the checkpoints are. That's the idea of the 'Hash,' to take a place on a map and have people discover the unique and interesting parts of that particular place. Not that I knew any of this before we started. I just knew to bring some 'running shoes and an open mind.'
The hares painted dots on the city's streets to show possible routes the runners could follow. When we saw the dots, we knew we were on a certain route. Their were true routes and dead-end routes. And there was food placed in coolers hidden strategically along the way. Eventually, the larger group of about twenty split into several small groups of people running and walking, searching for the finish all over town. That's how I made a new friend, 'Hide'. We ended up running most of the marathon as partners. We ran through a school, over top of a museum, passed famous hot springs, through endless twists and turns, and finally up a mountain and down a hunormous slide where the hares were waiting to take our pictures. So it was great fun, the kind of fun I didn't know people were still having. And making friends with Hide and the other teachers made it that much more enjoyable.