Confessions Part II

Some of the best nights of my life are the ones when I’m in bed before 10 pm. 

Others are when I’m out late dancing like a (completely sober) drunk.

With the exception of pudding, I have not cooked rice since I came to Japan. 

Those gooey brownies that earn compliments and marriage proposals come from a box.  
  

It's not uncommon for me to fantasize about smuggling a small Japanese child in my suitcase home. They're just so darn cute!

I’m convinced that, due to a combination of curiosity and carelessness, I have accidentally walked more kilometers of Japanese countryside than I have purposefully jogged or run.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not an interesting person. I am an average person open to interesting situations.

I didn't bother to learn "bad" Japanese words because I don't want them slipping out at inopportune times and I prefer to remain blissfully ignorant when they are directed at me.  

Sometimes I smile and nod even though I don’t understand. Other times, I smile and nod even though I do.

I don't know which is more heartbreaking; the fact that I haven't been to church since Christmas Eve or the fact that I haven't missed it.

Inappropriate interactions with males over fifty or under twenty don’t phase me.* It’s the entirely appropriate exchanges with locals of a similar age that leave me tongue-tied.

We met once, he asked me to go to dinner, but we never did. It’s probably for the best. Falling in love now would be extremely inconvenient.  

I rarely remember April Fools’, but when I do, I make it count. 

The number of books I have read and relished over the last two years can be counted on one hand. Two, if I'm generous. 

*If the latter don’t know better now, one can hope they will one day. If the former haven’t grown out of it yet, nothing one young female foreigner can do or say will expedite the process.

Shake It Off

“Remember, you live your bloopers, but you only ever see other people’s highlight reels.”

I recently came across this nugget of wisdom on an online JET Programme Forum. In this age of tweets and twitters and Facebook photos, it’s so easy to create the appearance of a life that is significantly more attractive and appealing than it may actually be.

As my days in Japan are increasingly numbered, I find myself jogging down memory lane more regularly than usual. While most of the memories I’ll take home will be positive ones, it would be dishonest (and, let’s face it, much less interesting) not to make mention of those less enjoyable experiences.

And, so, without further ado, I give you my blooper reel:*    

Walking into one of your favorite elementary schools at the start of a new school year to find that nearly every English-eager teacher, administrator, and office person has been transferred elsewhere.

When a wonderful staffroom conversation about South Africa turns sour due to one unfortunate word (“volunteer”) on your part, resulting in a pair of grown men harassing you in several languages about how much ALTs earn.

Mysterious bruises and swollen baby toes after “non-contact” Frisbee practices.

The demoralizing exasperation during a poorly planned, mind-numbingly dull, supposedly “team-taught” class, followed by further frustration knowing that, despite your best efforts, you are powerless to do much more about it. This inner rage is only compounded when you reason with yourself that trying to fix what is most definitely broken (or, at least, ridiculously rusty) might damage relations and, thus, actually make the situation worse. 

Those rare occasions where you have to step back and convince yourself that these aren’t your kids, these aren’t your classes, and that you are not solely responsible for their education or interest in English. Those rare occasions where you have to remind yourself not to take your job so seriously, if only for the sake of your own sanity. 

The unsolicited attention – suspicious by day, salacious by night – of middle-aged salarymen.

The absurd assumption that because you are a native English speaker, you are a living, breathing grammar book ready to explain and defend each and every exception of your mother tongue at any and all times.

The icky, overwhelming feeling threatening to swallow you whole in late April as the carefully-laid plans for your dwindling time in Japan, your journey to Canada, and your return to school in September slowly tear, twist, and tangle, demanding undivided time and attention you simply do not have.

*The list is short, and I like it that way!