Eri-chan in Nihon-land
or
What have we gotten ourselves into?!
(Japan diary)
Some background for those who are reading this for the first time: my name is El, Ellie, Eri, I am a Canadian living in Miyoshi-cho, Tokushima-ken, Shikoku, Japan. Oh, and my haikus can be read here.
I feel I need to provide some information for people who wonder how I got myself into Japan. Well, I took the popular route: teaching English. One way to do so in Japan is to apply for JET programme (Japan Exchange and Teaching). The application is a quite a nerve-wracking process, but it is quite worth it. Here's some links where you can find info on this new form of Japanese torture:
www.jetprogramme.org -- pretty much self-explanatory :).
www.jet.org -- this is a site of JET alumni, you can read about some JET experiences here
This diary is sort of all over the place, it used to be in chronological order, but then I started adding some thoughts and opinions about things, so it got out of hand. The latest stuff is at the bottom, so it makes sense to scroll down.
The last year has been archived. Happy New Year. Kotoshi mo yoroshiku onegai shimasu.
17 January 2003
Despite having been archived, last year still comes and bites you, my dear few readers, in the behind. Though I am writing in the new year, the material will pretty much deal with last year's business. Or, rather, last year's leisure.
"Silent night, holy night, hoshi wa hikari...": Annual Miyoshi-gun ALT Christmas Carol Tour
Rocking for the kids took place on the seemingly inauspicious date of Friday, December the 13th. We went around the county, from south to west to east, visiting nine junior high schools, singing Christmas carols and spreading Christmas cheer (one hopes). Started we early, around eight. I honestly had doubts about this enterprise of people who had never rehearsed together performing in front of others. However, after our first performance at Higashiya junior high, we discovered that we didn't suck all that much. What we lacked in a musical sense we made up for in liveliness and spirit. Our repertoire was quite traditional and didn't vary much from school to school. It usually went like this: "Rudolph", "Deck the Halls", "Santa Claus is Coming to Town", "White Christmas". There was also a Japanese version of "Silent Night". The first time we followed the cords that our guitarist had, but the key turned out to be too high for us. It made us sound like a choir of mice, and almost cost us our voices. At two of the schools, we also performed some bizarre Japan-oriented version of "Twelve Days of Christmas", in which my lover gave me bentos, Pokemons, tanukis, Morning Musumes, and, for some reason, bananas, among other things. All performances were wrapped up by singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas".
The sad story of "Frosty the Snowman": At Higashiya, someone proposed to sing "Frosty the Snowman". And so we did, with much spirit and genkiness. The problem was we couldn't really stop the song anywhere, so we had to sing the whole thing. Unfortunately, the piece was met with instant approval from the kids, and so from then on, we performed the darned thing in its entirety at every school. Needless to say, we quite disliked "Frosty the Snowman" by the end of the day.
From Higashiya we went to Nishiya, and then to Yamashiro (the construction on the river there is something to behold -- a huge concrete wall was erected from scratch). Then we proceeded to Ikeda, where we had two schools to cover, and then, finally, we had some time for lunch. By that time, the morning trek had started to take its toll. For starters, at all schools we sang outside, and December the 13th wasn't exactly the warmest day of the year. As a result, our voices were not as bright any more, and our guitarist had to tend to some injuries in the form of bleeding fingers at my school. But we persevered (after all, we were rocking for the kids).
After lunch the first school was Ikawa junior high. Ikawa is the town on the opposite side of the river from Miyoshi, my town. Slightly off-topic thought: I saw the ugliest sculpture ever in Ikawa school's courtyard. It portrays a woman, and it is not really abstract, although I wish it were. The poor woman has the ugliest figure in the universe. The masterpiece should be removed lest it traumatizes the kids for life.
After Ikawa, it was my school's turn. Kids and teachers that were present came through and gave us a warm welcome. Then we were off to Mikamo and its spanking new school. This was the first junior high that I had seen that had automatic doors! Also, there were some bizarre glass panels in the courtyard that were there apparently only for esthetic reasons. At Mikamo we did all the usual pieces, including the cursed "Frosty the Snowman". This time, however, we raised the tempo and were finished with the entire thing in under a minute, I swear. It was so fast, nobody could pronounce the words.
By the time we got to the last school in Mino, we were completely knackered. Our Santa Claus's moustache was sticking out in all directions and rather resembled nose hair. Our lips were chapped, we almost had no voices, and we were honestly getting sick of spreading Christmas cheer (I am not sure we spread any in the last couple of schools).
Despite the fact that being a traveling performance group was not an easy job, the trip was still a lot of fun. I guess every year ALTs do it more for themselves than for the kids, really. They probably want to do something traditional, maybe old-fashioned, and closer to home amidst the Japanese crazy plastic-Santa-Claus-hanging-off-the-street-lamp-and-Christmas-muzak-in-the-elevators Christmas frenzy. Because, to tell the truth, there is nothing truly Christmasy or even holiday-like in Japanese Christmas. So, to celebrate, ALTs get together and, without ever rehearsing, go on performing the entire "Frosty the Snowman" in front of kids who don't really understand the words or even the point.
22 January, 2003
As promised, some post-holiday musings (all of them quite depressing).
The winter of our discontent Quite often this place gets to me, especially when I get back from Micah’s. When I was leaving Canada, I thought I would be stronger, but, apparently, I overestimated myself. I was almost sure I would stay for two years. Now I am pretty much ready to pack the bags. The main sources of my depression are (in that order): my boyfriend is two hours away from me, and I can only see him on weekends (people in much longer-distance relationships might slight this particular point, but it is horribly painful for me to come back to my dark and cold town on Sunday night after spending two days at his side). "The dark and cold town" brings us to the next source: my town is dark and cold. It is incredibly creepy to bike back home from the train station. The station is in another town, and on the way home there are no people, no lights, it is as if the entire area has been abandoned.
My apartment is also very inconveniently located. There is nothing nearby. No supermarket, nothing. Not even Lawsons or Sunkus, which are like locusts and are everywhere. Besides, my apartment is very old; I have mildew on my walls in winter and an amazing variety of wildlife in summer. It takes a special kind of person to survive here and not crack. Well, I apparently do not possess the disposition.
My next point: my job. It is not bad, and, considering the amount of money
and amount of free time I have at work, it is the easiest job I will ever have
in my life. And even the people are very nice. The only problem is that I have
to be around those people for eight hours without break. I am not bouncy and
outgoing. In fact, I am not really even a fan of people. I sit at my desk in the
office, and everybody walks around me, talking, pretending to be busy. The only
moment of privacy I have is in the toilet, pardon me (that’s probably why I
drink so much coffee at work). My nervous system just cannot handle this
crowding. After a while, people don’t seem to be nice anymore, they seem to be
annoying. I never really understood before the meaning of the “collectivistic
culture” (or some such). Now I do. Since August I have participated in more
activities to promote the collective spirit than in all my pioneer years in
Russia. Brrr.
Back to cold and dark. I can’t wait till spring. Before I moved here, I used to look forward to spring for completely weather-unrelated reasons: end of school, jazz festivals, etc, etc. Now I am waiting for spring because I want it to be warmer. I really don’t mind winter, and I don’t mind having –20 outside, as long as I can get inside and feel warm. The charm of winter is precisely in that you sit inside, where it is warm, sipping some beverage, maybe reading or watching TV, half-asleep on the couch, while the wind is raging outside. Here, you huddle under the kotatsu, wearing two sweaters and wool socks (or set up a horrible Japanese heater and risk CO poisoning), boiling the kettle every five minutes and counting days till spring. Apparently, it gets warmer here in March. Can we skip February, please?
11 February 2003
Very much belated impressions of Osaka and Kobe
It was December 20th. My boyfriend was back in Florida for Christmas, the school was over, almost every other ALT in the county was back in the US of A, Britain, Australia or wherever else. So, what can a girl do? Pack the bags and set the course for Kansai, of course!
And so I did. Under the pouring rain I boarded the bus for Osaka. Three hours later, still under the pouring rain, I unboarded (hm, that's not a word) the bus and set out to find a place to stay (well, it was designed as an adventure, hence minimum of preparation). Unfortunately, that weekend everybody and their uncle went to Osaka, so I really had to look. Mind you, all this was happening under the pouring rain.
In the process of searching, I discover one thing: I can't orient myself in this city! I walk for about 5 minutes, fully confident in that I am walking south. Wrong. Turns out, I am walking north. It is ridiculous and frustrating. I am a human compass, and have never gotten lost. Well, at least until I got to Osaka.
Finally. I have a warm little room to put my things and sleep in. It is not exactly very late, so I venture out. Under the pouring rain. I vaguely recall that this city has a subway. Yey, a subway! Easy movement from one place to another! I take the subway to Namba, and, when I get out, I realize how non-automated we are on Shikoku. Here, buy a ticket from the machine, put the ticket into the gate, get it back, again put the ticket into the gate when you get out. No contact with people whatsoever. No ladies collecting the tickets, saying "Arigato gozaimashita" every second.
I need to find the studio Ghibli store. I am in Osaka, might as well get loaded with Tottoro merchandise. I also have an idea for a New Year present for my boyfriend. His Tottoro keitai dangling thingy (there must be a word for it, don't remember it now) broke, so I want to replace it. The store is somewhere in Namba Walk, the ridiculously long underground shopping area. Finding the Walk is no problem: you end up there as soon as you are out of the subway gate.
Twenty minutes later: I am running back and forth like a rabid daschund. Despite the help of numerous maps, I still can't find the store! Finally I have to torture the lady in the information booth. She doesn't really understand me, so I decide to stick to only one word: "Tottoro! Tottoro! TOTTORO!" This opens the lines of communication, and I am presented with the instructions on how to find the darned store. It is about three miles from where I am. I set out at a light trot. Oh joy, here I am! There is really no space in the store to walk around, you just kind of try and squeeze in between the other customers and shelves with merchandise, trying not to break or destroy anything. I get the dangly things. I don't remember exactly what Micah's one looked like, so, to be on the safe side, I buy three. Well, I will keep one anyway, so might as well. I get myself a fluffy stuffed Tottoro and a bunch of other stuff. I get out of the store very happy, with a big bag and much less money in my wallet.
I decide to get out and look at what is happening on the surface. It is no longer pouring, but still raining. I sort of randomly walk around, end up in Dotombori (totally accidentally, I still can't orient in this city!). I realize there is nothing really to do in Osaka, unless you are there to club or to shop.
Next day coming with the next update ;). Check back.
26 February, 2003
I have a new hobby. I blow into the hollow tube. Other people supposedly call it “playing the clarinet”. I don’t know about that. I think “playing” is too mighty a word to describe the activity I engage in. Therefore, I prefer “blowing into the hollow tube”. Every day after work I am trying to produce some decent sounds, gradually increasing the capacity of my lungs and discovering facial muscles I never knew I had. Actually, my clarinet playing has been progressing so far in phases:
Phase 1: Trying to produce ANY sound AT ALL. The first time I played, it sounded more like an angry snake than like a clarinet.
Phase 2: Trying not to produce horrible squeaks. The remnants of this phase still linger around, producing temporary deafness from time to time.
Phase 3: trying to play B in the next register. The damned note (and, therefore, all notes above it) is very elusive and tends to either hiss or squeak, and sounds nothing like B.
Phase 4: tonguing. This is much less kinky than it sounds. Therefore, I am not going to go into specifics.
I also play the recorder. In
this case I play rather than blow into the tube, as I can actually produce all
the notes in all the registers and can more or less coordinate my tongue with my
fingers. The progress on this instrument has been much less exciting.
It has become my obsession of sorts. It helps me not to go completely mad in this place. I am now determined to master the long sleek hollow beast. And so every day I practice. It’s good that my neighbour is a music teacher and has probably heard worse…
17 April, 2003
I swear on the Witches' Bible that the following is the true account of events (however retarded it seems).
The commencement ceremony
Play in one act and one scene
List of characters:
New
principal
Vice-principal
Ogata-sensei
Usuki-sensei
New
teachers
Other
teachers
Miyoshi junior high school students
Act
I.
Scene I.
Miyoshi
junior high school, new gym. The gym is so huge that we don’t occupy even a half
of it. Ogata-sensei is at the mike, announcing speakers.
Ogata-sensei:
Opening message.
Usuki-sensei,
after bowing to every corner and to the national flag that was hung up so high you cannot
see it, comes up on stage.
Usuki-sensei: We
begin the ceremony.
Usuki-sensei
comes back down from stage.
Ogata-sensei: Greeting from the vice-principal.
The
vice-principal comes up on stage, gives a short speech about the start of the
new school year, etc, etc, etc.
The
vice-principal comes back down.
Ogata-sensei:
Introduction of the new teachers.
(We
have seven new teachers this year, including the new principal. The new teachers
are standing in line on stage.)
The
vice-principal comes up on stage and gives a short blurb about each of the
new teachers.
The
vice-principal comes back down.
Ogata-sensei:
Message from the new teachers.
The
new principal comes to the middle of the stage, gives a speech
about himself, about how happy he is to be transferred to this nice school, and
about how
all the students should study hard.
The
new principal comes down from stage. Other new teachers follow suit.
Ogata-sensei:
Message from the school principal.
The
new principal comes up on stage (the reader must recall that this guy just
talked there 30 seconds ago). Gives speech about the beginning of the new school
year, about how nice this school is, and about how all the students should study hard.
The
new principal comes back down.
Ogata-sensei: Closing message.
Usuki-sensei
comes up on stage.
Usuki-sensei:
The ceremony is now over.
Usuki-sensei
comes back down.
Ogata-sensei: Message something or other.
The
vice-principal comes up on stage.
The
vice-principal: The first term of the new school now begins.
The vice-principal comes back down.
Ogata-sensei:
Other messages.
The
vice-principal comes up on stage and gives some speech about how everybody
should take care of themselves and study hard.
The
vice-principal comes back down.
Ogata-sensei:
Introduction of all teachers.
All
teachers form a line in front of the students and are “introduced” by the
vice-principal.
Ogata-sensei:
The school song.
The
gym is huge, the kids are few, new teachers don’t know the lyrics, the new
music teacher is playing too fast (well, at least it was over quickly)…
Ogata-sensei:
Everybody, stand up. Bow. You can go back to the classrooms.
Teachers go back to the office and start making maps of a school cleanup. Maps will later be mounted on pieces of sturdy cardboard and posted in every classroom, so that everybody knows where they are supposed to clean.
Otherwise chaos will predominate.
