Unexpected Song

What do you do when the teacher who invited you for supper last Wednesday and volunteered to pick you up outside the post office today at 6:25 PM is a no-show at 7?

You decide that this is how it must feel to be stood up on a first date, and thank your lucky stars you were never chosen last for the (insert sport here) during recess in elementary school. You muse about how your life in Japan is like a series of blind dates - some more successful than others - and how hope-filled and humbling that can be.

You walk home, firing off a few text messages to Fred and Erin because you know they'll both sympathize and appreciate the humour of the situation. 

You throw together a colourful coleslaw salad and cheesey rosemary pizza, mix a glass of "pop" (pineapple juice and soda water) like mom used to when you were little, and devour everything while watching an especially witty episode of "How I Met Your Mother."

You ignore the doorbell. You feel a bit guilty, but you're not expecting anyone and you don't feel like entertaining company. Whoever it is will understand...

You consider the cornucopia of possible ways to fill your remaining hour or so of waking week-end as the spring wind continues to howl outside your sliding balcony doors.

You thank God for your crazy hair, your full belly, your friends and family the world over.

You realize that, this time next week, you will be in Korea, and that, in a little over three months, you will be home for a visit.

You wonder where the time goes, and are grateful to the forgetful teacher (or your miscommunication - you'll find out at school tomorrow) for this evening's unexpected gift.

School's Out

It’s spring vacation!

This means my elementary school kids play outside at their grandparents', my Junior High schoolers show up from 8 am to noon for their respective club activities (some go home for lunch and come back 'til 3 pm), and I roam the school in search of said students, or sit in the staff room studying kanji or preparing posters until my teachers take me out for lunch.

In an effort to occupy myself, I started flipping through my elementary school notebooks to see what I’ve learned over the past eight months. In no particular order:

If you’re the only one doing it, it’s probably not a good idea.

Graduation is a serious (and seriously nostalgic – cue the swells of melodramatic soap opera music) business. Sit up straight, bow as one, don’t stop clapping, and for gosh sake, don’t smile!

Male teachers are either excessively nice or ignore me completely.

Recipe for the most delicious kyushoku (school lunch): consume virtually nothing in the twenty-four leading up to said lunch. (See previous blog.) One-hundred percent success guaranteed.

Principals enjoy speaking to me in Japanese as if I understand.

Although being dragged across a polished wooden floor dressed in professional attire during a game that can best be described as “pull-apart-the-human-knot” hardly qualifies as dignified, it definitely buys you street cred with eight-year-olds.  

Office ladies are a source of hot drinks, some English, and surprise sweets. In short, they are your best friend. You should know your best friends’ names.

When it comes to determining who goes first, who gets lunch leftovers, or who cleans up, Janken (“Rock, Paper, Scissors’’) is indisputable. Seriously, this game could put an end to war.

Often, the most intelligent thing you can do is admit that you have no idea.

Recess is a great time to impress small children by how much faster than them you can run…even if your glory is short-lived and you end up walking off a stitch as they sprint circles around you.

“I like (insert color or fruit in English)” is really all you need to have a mutually satisfying conversation with a first-grader.

Never trust an elementary school child’s attire to indicate temperature. High-spirited grade five boys wear shorts in January while you shiver in layers, long-johns, and two pairs of socks. The solution is to join their game of dodge-ball in a gym where you can see your breath.

Virtually any pastime that does not involve fancy technology (i.e. string games like “cats’ cradle”, juggling, spinning tops) will be referred to as an ancient Japanese game.

No matter how many times you decline coffee, it will appear (with cream, sugar, and cookies, if you’re lucky) and you will drink it. You will even come to appreciate the mild buzz, but you will never learn to like the stuff.

Understanding Japanese is definitely something to strive for. However, if you speak Disney, dodge-ball, and endless English greetings, you can get by.

Well-behaved children are wonderful, but the rowdy gang is more fun. 

Time of Your Life

It’s 7 pm on Monday, March 12^th. You’ve just walked in the door after staying late at school for a meeting of which you’ve understood maybe forty words. (Making progress.) Your apartment is freezing, and after looking in the fridge, you kick yourself for not having braved yesterday’s bizarre thunder snowstorm to venture out for groceries. Today’s weather, while calmer, is no more inviting.

Luckily, you stopped at a konbini (convenience store) on the way home to grab a couple sushi rolls. Add some spinach, cabbage, half a sweet potato, and an old hamburger patty, and you’ve got yourself some semblance of supper. Scarf down the works, and dive under your kotatsu* for a few hours; write a pair of letters, send a couple emails, watch too many Youtube clips, and call it an early night. Tomorrow is graduation, and you’d like to ditch the glasses and as much under-eye baggage as possible.

The best-laid plans...

Despite once being a light sleeper, years of different beds, buddies, and background noise have made you a champ. Especially in Japan, where adequate shut-eye is an unattainable dream; something your junior high school students use to fill in the blank when asked, "What do you like to do in your free time?" So, when you wake up at 2:30 am, you feel odd. Moments later, you feel even stranger. And, your last thought as you throw back the covers and rush to the toilet is, “Well, this is a first in Japan.”

6:15 am: You turned your alarm off fifteen minutes ago, but are still curled up in bed, contemplating your conundrum. To school or not to school? While it might seem like a no-brainer, it’s an awful dilemma. Graduation is a big deal in Japan and missing the ceremony will not sit well with parents or teachers. Furthermore, you really want to be there for your kids’ memorable day, provided public puking is not part of the memory.

7:20 am: You just got off the phone with one of your favourite teachers at Kawahara Junior High School. Your lack of mutually spoken language results in the awkward sort of conversation you normally both find hilarious. With the help of a translation App on his Smartphone, it is understood that you won’t be coming in today.

Ten minutes later: that’s the last of it. You know, because you immediately feel better. Then, an idea pops into your slightly light-headed mind. “If I don’t eat or drink anything between now and noon, I could make it through that ceremony.”

8 am: On a bus, bound for Kawahara. Unfortunately, its route varies slightly from your usual 7:23 am transport and you end up having to backtrack through drifts of swirling snow. Thankfully, between your umbrella, winter jacket and rubber boots, you manage to keep your formal attire – black dress pants, suit jacket, and collared white shirt – completely dry.

Slightly before 9 am: You’ve missed the morning meeting and the staffroom is deserted, with the exception of one teacher who seems to be ignoring you. You apologize for being late. No response. Attempt to catch his eye to try again. No cigar. Suddenly, the enormity of the last few hours hits you like a twenty pound bag of rice, and you are going to puke, pass out, or cry, if you don’t move…now.

You head to the refrigerator of a gym with the intention of people-watching until the 10 am ceremony. The moment you get there, however, most eyes are on you. The parents observe you because it’s their tax dollars paying your salary and they’re curious to know what sort of foreigner they’ve got this year. The students are freaking out because you’ve managed to put in the contacts and brush on a bit of mascara (another first) in a pitiful attempt to “fake it ‘til you make it”. Is it working?

The ceremony is a blur. Singing of national anthem and school song. Special guests and PTA members in business attire. Some mothers in traditional kimono. Male teachers in shiny black dress shoes and their best suits. Female teachers wearing fine bits of jewelry and heels, many of them in skirts (while you think warm thoughts in three sets of socks and two pairs of long underwear.) Students in freshly pressed, dirt-free uniforms. Everyone either shivering or suffering stoically. Everything incredibly serious. Speeches from various administration members. Presentation of diplomas to each of the sixty-six graduands. Lots of bowing. More speeches. The graduating students sing a farewell song lacking its usual (albeit, at times militarian) gusto. The teeth of one of your favourite bad baseball boys are visibly chattering. Your head spins as everyone collectively springs to their feet, stands at attention, and bows for the last time. Dutiful clapping until the newly graduated students file out of the gym under arches of pastel-colored tissue paper flowers. Owarimasu. (It’s over.)

12:30: Back in the staffroom, you sit smiling and shaking in the blasting heat, pleased with yourself. All of the teachers are in a celebratory mood, greeting parents and students as they head home for the day. Enter the very special graduation bento (box lunches). Exit a very green Miss Echo.

12:50: You return from the restroom, race to into the staffroom, request nenkyu (paid leave) for the rest of the afternoon and head to the women’s change room to collect your things. You are followed by half a dozen female teachers refusing to hear of you catching the bus. One of them will drive you, just as soon as she’s finished eating. In the meantime, you are to go lie down in the Nurse’s room. 

1 pm: Curled up in the sick bed, fully dressed, with a thermometer in your armpit. Apparently, you have a slight fever. You doze as a steady stream of teachers come to check on you. 

An hour later: “Echo-sensei, sumimasen. Let’s go to the doctor.” You try to explain that it’s just food poisoning (shokuchuudoku), but they’re adamant, so you reluctantly surrender.**

2:30 pm: A kindly male doctor in his early fifties who speaks complicated medical English examines you, tells you he has sons your age, and informs you that you need an I.V. “You've got to be kidding me!” you groan, inwardly. “How long will it take?” you ask, defeated. 

3:30 pm: The drip is done. You leave with an array of pills and powders you don't plan to use.

4 pm: The lovely teacher chauffeurs you home, leaving you with wishes for a speedy recovery and a warning not to sleep with the adhesive abdomen hot pad she gave you earlier.

4:30 pm: After tentatively sipping some water and apple juice, you partially undress, forget her advice (no harm done), add more layers, turn on the heater, and collapse into bed.

5:30 pm: Nature calls. You eat a bit of bread and drink some more apple juice. Set your alarm for 5:30 am and crawl back into bed.

12 hours later: You are alive, awake, aware, and much more enthusiastic than yesterday, which is great, because Wednesdays are elementary school visits. 

This is the stuff memories are made of.

   

 * This is you (but blond and in a messy room)
sitting under your heated floor table. 

** Weeks later, when you’re granted byoukyu (sick leave) instead of nenkyu, you’re thankful they refused to take “no” for an answer.  

(The Happiest Day I Know is a) Tokyo Bicycle

25 things to see and do in Kyoto, Tokyo, and Hiroshima

1. Head to Yoyoji Park to find some jugglers,

some jammers,

some (rare!) graffiti,

the end of a lubricated dance party,

an intense double-dutch routine,

and a double-decker Kitty Chan bus.

2. Consider buying this shirt at a train station, knowing it won't fit.*

3. Visit Roppongi Hills at night.

4. Practice counting at Shibuya Crossing.

5. Get caught in a freak snowstorm.

6. Get really good at this.

7. Get lost in Tokyo.

8. Make a wish.

9. Learn from past mistakes...

...and pray for peace.

10. Covet a custom-made bicycle.

11. Visit Kiyomizu-dera. 

(Another beautiful photo courtesy of John.)

12. Eat a lot of sushi. (Beer optional.)

13. Spot Mount Fuji.

14. Admit to yourself that you are a tourist, and that, as such,
you actually do want this photo...

15. ...and this one.

16. Then, sneakily snap this one.

17. Eat okonomiyaki in Hiroshima.

18. Ride the shinkansen (repeatedly).

19. Travel in the best company.**

20. Sip a coffee or chocolate drink in the common room of
your hostel after a night of roommates' snoring. 

21. Meet the third graders at Mochigase Junior High School
and spend the rest of the day answering fan mail.

22. Experience an enkai with enthusiastic teachers
eager to speak English.

23. Soar up sixty floors in fewer seconds...

24. ...only to realize that you're not such a big deal after all. 

25. Return home to find your true love from Tokyo waiting for you!

* Schroeder says, "Love songs? To me love songs are like eating too much ice cream. Lucy replies, "Play me some ice cream. 

**John and I agree that the highlight of our week-long adventure was meeting up with Tejas in Tokyo. Ever the easy-going, fun-loving guy we remembered from high school, Tejas spent the weekend translating, tour-guiding and taking care of us. We just hope it won't be too long until the next reunion!

Final Countdown

January's International Board at Mochigase Junior High School

My brother arrives tomorrow!

In less than twenty four hours’ time, I will be shivering in the Tottori train station, scrolling aimlessly through beginner Kanji on my iPhone, failing to conceal my excitement. You’d think I’d say “eyes peeled” or “anxiously scanning the crowd”, but then, you don’t know Tottori train station. Boasting four tracks and an equal number of ticket-takers at peak commuter time, it doesn’t take much to keep tabs on newly arriving passengers. Not to mention the fact that John’s 10:42 pm Limited Express Super Hakuto may very well be the last arrival of the evening. Or that he will most certainly be the only blue-eyed blond over six feet tall on said train.

No, the question is not whether I will be able to pick him out tomorrow, but whether or not I will be able to sleep tonight. Given that I’ve been fighting a cold for the past week (holding hands, shaking hands, high-fiving, London-bridging, dodge-balling, getting help folding origami cranes, and just generally sharing air with six schools’ worth of kids during peak “infruenza” season can do that to even the healthiest of people), the ideal answer is clear. However, congested as I may be, it feels an awful lot like Christmas Eve. (Technically, he’ll be more of a Valentine’s Day gift, but given that I haven’t hugged a family member since July, we’ve no shortage of reasons or seasons to celebrate.)

I cannot wait! 

Listen to the Music

I had big plans for this entry. Photos of the shrines and temples I visited on the eve and first few days of 2012 in search of some sort of clue as to how to live out my new year. A few choice captions, inviting readers to draw their own conclusions. Title? “Shrine, Shrine, Everywhere a Shrine” – a light-hearted prelude to contrast the weighty content. Deep, meaningful, decided.

I guess one for three’s not so bad.

Somewhat disappointingly, my decision cannot be traced back to any one pivotal moment. No earth-shattering epiphany. In fact, when I told my Kocho sensei in early January that I’d been to a number of shrines over the holidays, hoping to “...get an answer...” he looked at me, obviously amused, before shrugging indifferently, “I have never heard the voice of God speak to me.”

Immediately embarrassed, I started back-pedaling, trying to find a way of explaining simply, yet elegantly, that I don’t actually hear “the Voice of God”, but do sometimes encounter places so inspired or people whose words ring so true that I can’t help but wonder at their origin. Thankfully, our conversation shifted to fluffier things, but as he pulled into Copo Hestia’s driveway, he turned to me, eyes twinkling. “The next time you need a sign, please talk to me.”

However, having spent the last several months talking myself blue in the face to anyone whose opinion might help shape my own, I needed to do the opposite. At the suggestion of a very dear friend who has always had my best interests at heart, I shut my mouth, emptied my brain as best I could, and listened.

I listened to the concerns of my ever-supportive family as they struggled to understand why their darling girl would choose “away” over “home” yet again. To the encouragement, “selfishness” and vicarious living of friends half a world away. To the rationalizations and realities of the many wonderful people in Tottori who are choosing to re-contract next year.   

I listened to my colleagues’ early morning staffroom chatter, wondering if it would ever register as anything more than something indiscernibly Japanese.  

Often, I listened to music. To Sarah Slean’s incredibly moving “Land & Sea.” To the latest independent Canadian artists on CBC Radio 3. To Japanese tunes recommended by students and teachers. To Serena Ryder, Downhere, Yelo Molo, and Leonard Cohen. To John Fettes, Tricot Machine, Tons of Fun University, and Vusi Mahlasela. To Michael Franti and Michael W. Smith.  

Sometimes, I listened to nothing at all.  

  

And, somehow, during all of this listening, it snuck up on me. I can’t pinpoint precisely when, nor can I explain exactly why, but I’ve made my decision. I have decided to stay in Japan for another year.

I hope you’ll continue to drop me a line from time to time. I love to listen to you, too!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It all started when I was asked to make Christmas wreaths with the Grade Four class at Saigo Shougakkou (Elementary School) on November 30th.

The teacher soon discovered that I was being honest,
not modest, about my lack of craft skills, and
presented me with this lovely creation at day's end.

The next day, all of the ALTs from across Tottori Prefecture congregated in Kurayoshi for the annual Skills Development Conference. Not only did I get a lot of fantastic teaching ideas and inspiration...

...I also convinced Mary (originally from Portland)
to pose in a cheesy photo. 

On December 3rd, it was off to Kyoto* with Garrett, Rena, Karen...

...and our new friend, Cooper
(who we met up with at the festive Kyoto Train Station.)

A few days later, back in Tottori, my package(s) of omiyage arrived! 

over 300 candy canes from Mexico for my many teachers
(and some lucky students)

My elementary school kids got a kick out of the contents of my Show and Tell Santa stocking...

while some teachers were quite interested
in the (apparently "sexy") stocking itself. (Oops.)

At my Japanese class, I gave a presentation on "Christmas at my House", focusing on the importance of music and annual family traditions. I may have also mentioned that my dad, who generally doesn't care for it, comes to church on Christmas Eve because he likes to sing.   

I wrote this. I read this. I rocked this.
(The first two statements are true.) 

December 20th was a Tuesday, which meant staying after school for tea ceremony club. Basically, I show up, am given matcha (green tea) to drink and a variety of unidentifiable and strangely tasty okashi (Japanese sweets) to eat. Obviously, there's a lot more to it than this, but, try as they might, the two obaasans (literally, "grandmothers", a sign of respect for the elderly) who facilitate the club cannot speak simply enough for me to understand. So, I smile, mimic as many motions as possible, hope the students will take pity on me and attempt translation (which they often do), and try to limit my sitting seiza to forty minutes lest I suffer paralysis. Oh, and I do my best not to miss the last bus at 5:26 pm afterward.

  

A bling-y house on my unexpectedly epic (I took a "shortcut" ),
 but thoroughly enjoyable (three hours is a lot of Christmas carols)
walk home from school on December 20th.

On December 21st, I experienced my first bonenkai with the staff and teachers of Saigo Shougakko. Literally, "forget the year party", this gathering gives reason to eat (my first sukiyaki), drink, and pay tribute to both the good ("Echo-sensei's violin") and bad (11.3.2011) of the previous year. It's also a time for teachers (who are, at school, an extremely serious and busy bunch) to relax and let loose a little. Oh, and to break out the often impressive English language skills they'd never dream of revealing in the workplace.  

December 22nd was the last day of classes before Christmas.** After wishing the students and teachers of Mochigase Chugakko (Junior High School) a merry Christmas, I jumped in the car of my Kawahara Chugakko JTE to attend my second bonenkai. Destination? The Asanoya Hotel in Yumura, Hyogo. Purpose? To eat, drink, and be merry!

The trickiest part of the meal was trying to eat
the crab -- a messy business!

After dinner, we checked into our rooms before heading to the nijikai (or "afterparty") at the hotel bar where I may or may not have been persuaded to sing "A Whole New World" and a Beatles medley with an incredibly energetic and enthusiastic P.E. teacher. 

Before we knew it, it was after midnight. Time to onsen!***

post-onsen, pre-sleep on a traditional tatami mat

Despite not going to sleep until after 1:30 am, we were up, undressed, and back in the steamy water before 7 am. It was snowing big Charlie Brown snowflakes, so we opted to bathe in the outdoor pool. It was so lovely that I managed to forget that we'd woken up before the sun for the sole purpose of relaxation.

At 8 am, washed, brushed, dressed, and refreshed, my four colleagues/sleeping buddies and I headed downstairs to join the rest of the teachers for breakfast. The hearty meal consisted of miso soup, several kinds of fish, rice, a poached egg on salad, Japanese-style pickles, and a sweet seaweed goop -- all washed down with freely flowing black tea that, for once, I drank readily, seeking a bit of a caffeine boost.

Then, we five went back to our room, where we watched tv, drank more tea, and chatted in English and Japanese.

room with a view

After checking out of the hotel, several of the teachers decided that I needed to experience onsen tamago. So, after purchasing half a dozen eggs (one for each of us), we headed down to the designated area to boil those babies in the naturally hot water.

They insisted I do the honours.

While we waited five minutes for the eggs to boil, we took a quick look around.

a recyclable Christmas tree

onsen tamago!

After eating our deliciously warm eggs, it was time to go...

Check out that steam!

...but not before I had the chance to fold an origami paper crane (my first ever!) for Hiroshima.

Can you guess which one is mine?

Good-bye, onsen tamago!

Good-bye, Yumura!

Back in my own bed, I woke up on Christmas Eve morning to snow!

view from my balcony

I spent the day listening to Christmas tunes while cleaning my apartment and making yuzu jam.

Not especially attractive, but oh-so-tasty!

That night, Karen and I were warmly welcomed at the local Lutheran church, where we attended a candlelight carol service (complete with hand-bell choir.)

Christmas Eve bulletins have a universal look. 

With the help of a Japanese friend, we were even able to sing along to the three hymns -- a fact that both surprised and delighted us!

"Angels We Have Heard on High", "Silent Night,"
and "Joy to the World", respectively 

Christmas morning, I woke up to...even more snow!!

view from my front door

Karen snapped photos happily all the way to the bus station. Her enthusiasm was not only contagious, it also reminded me of the excitement of the two Brits I lived with last year in good ol' Rivière-du-Loup, Québec.

Tomiyasu (our street)

A few hours later, after a 10:30 am church service we mistakenly thought was Catholic (but turned out to be Protestant), it was still coming down! 

Umbrellas are acceptable protection for rain,
 snow, or shine.

After a bit more tidying and some Christmas Eve (their time) Skyping with the family, our guests started to arrive.

At one point, there were seventeen
pairs of shoes at my door!

Me & Miku

After an afternoon of mulled wine, Chai tea (from Canada!), and hot chocolate, Jenga, poker, and Pictureka! (another of the many presents impressively packed into a Rice Krispie box from home), and everything from fried chicken and tempura shrimp, to chocolate cake and gingersnaps, to curries of both Indian and Japanese varieties, we headed out on Wakasa Kaido...to eat again!

But first, a photo-shoot with several snowmen some teenage boys had built near the train station.

This is Anpanman.

city sidewalks, busy sidewalks

Later that evening, with all of my guests either on their way home, or tucked cozily into uninhabited apartments in my building (thanks to the generosity and forethought of those who'd gone away for the holidays and given their blessing and apartment codes to me), I logged onto Skype shortly after 1 am to unwrap gifts with the Fettes family in Regina, Calgary, and California.

It was a bit complicated...

...sometimes frustrating... 

and, needless to say...

hilarious!

I didn't get to bed until after 3:30 am, but it was so worth it!

The next morning, my alarm went off at 8:17 am. I jumped out of bed, turned on the heater, put on a Santa hat, and started making blueberry pancakes in preparation for a few guests who would soon be arriving for Boxing Day breakfast before heading back to their respective homes. 

After all of the hustle and bustle and holiday food, I set off for my beloved Ochidani Park, wanting to indulge in some Canadian radio while taking in the beauty of my current home.

Appropriately, that week's episode of "The Vinyl Cafe" had been recorded at the Conexus Arts Centre in Regina. Listening to Stuart McLean's sentimental stories and Hawksley Workman's seasonal songs made this...

all the more beautiful.

Heart-warrmed and drippy-nosed (blowing in public is considered uncouth in Japan, and, as a result, I have largely stopped carrying tissue), I returned home...

to admire my Christmas tree,

snack on some holiday trail mix (complete with left-over
M & Ms that Jessica, one of the American ALTs, had brought),

and enjoy the new holiday greeting arrivals. 

All in all, it was a very merry Christmas!

* Photos coming!

** Although Christmas isn't actually a stat holiday in Japan, December 23rd (the Emperor's Birthday) is.

*** There is a ton of information online about onsen. I'm lazy, so I'm not going to get into it here. Basically, it's a big pool filled with naturally hot water originating from geothermal springs. It's super relaxing and incredibly popular, and, oh, you do it naked.