It seems that the times when there are the most blog-worthy things going on is when I have the least drive/time to write about them. So it goes. Until that inevitable update, here are some visual representations of the last few months:
Album 1
Album 2
and the yet unfinished Album 3
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
くだもの , いろいろ, sometimes by my bloody valentine
Hylton and I recently started incorporating ginger into our cooking, and man, has that turned out to be a good idea! I think my favorite dinner to make here is stir-fried vegetables with udon (thich wheat noodles), usually with tofu but sometimes with egg. Things go in and out of season, obviously, but eggplant, onion, carrot, garlic and mushrooms are mostly a constant. And maybe it is because we live close to where at least some of this stuff is being grown (mostly scallions/leeks --someone please tell me the difference--, peanuts, yams), but I think we get this stuff at better prices than in the cities. I've seen big vegetable displays in train stations and thought, hah! I can top that.
My love of vegetables was awakened in Germany, but fruit is still the cornerstone of my culinary heart. My mother delights in telling "embarrassing" stories from my youth, and the image that gets me is a four year old Meredith carrying fruit around the house, one piece in each arm, just to have it near. Walking to the top of the driveway and rolling it down, bruising it over and over again. It is hard to tell how much of this has been embellished over the years, but I don't think its that important.
Anyhow, my first romance in Japan was with kaki (柿 , or so I could read it: かき), or persimmons. Oh, sweet persimmon season. It lasted from about September to December, and I genuinely grieved it's passing. It seemed like every house had a persimmon tree, and thus prices were usually nice and low. What an amazing fruit. After kaki came mikan, which I still don't know the exact translation for. I thought they were basically mandarin oranges, but I guess they are more like the mandarin's cousin. Then after mikan came what is yet another relative of the orange... but not exactly an orange. Hylton and I got into an argument about this and thus I will leave its classification at that. And now, especially here in Naruto, STRAWBERRY season. いちごがだいき. ほんとだよ! I remember saying strawberries were my favorite fruit for a long time, but in the past years we've backed off a little from each other, but now we're right back where we belong. I've mentioned before that Naruto is "famous for strawberries," and we are going strawberry picking in a few weekends. Hylton and I don't make a ton of money so when I get strawberries I usually get the cheapest kind from the grocery store, but there are little strawberry stands set up all over the place (they are permanent structures, they are just closed most of the year) around here. If you couldn't read いちご then you would be able to spot the stands by the FLASHING RED SIREN LIGHTS posted outside almost every one. Japan is extreme about colors and flashing lights, let me tell you. I bike past a bunch of these places, but have only ever been inside one, and there were five or six different varieties of strawberries they let you sample. The most amazing thing was that though they all were delicious, all the varieties had really different tastes.
Anyhow, as one of my students would say, "I like fruits." I have been bad and haven't been studying Japanese lately. It mostly started when I was so miserable (sick) at work, and then later it was just easy to use my free time to stare at maps of Malaysia (Taman Negara I am coming for you!) instead of grammar charts. I don't know why Japanese is so difficult for me, there are things about it that should make it way easier than other languages I've taken a swing at. I guess Latin roots are my friends. Anyhow, I picked up my grammar book again today with inspiration from my third year (junior high) students.
Last Monday and Tuesday I ate my school lunch not at my desk with the biddies gossiping away behind me (maybe I'm being harsh), but with 3D, a class of soon-to-be-graduated 15 year old junior high students. I had wanted to do this before, but kind of didn't know how to go about it. Anyhow, long story short, I was talking with some of the girls in 3D (hah) after my last lesson with them (which I didn't find out until that morning... I am most definitely the least informed staff member at that school), and some were saying they would miss me, which really melted my heart. So I was like, well, maybe I could come eat lunch with you? And then I almost wished I hadn't brought it up, because even if they didn't like the idea they would probably feel obligated to act like that was a fantastic suggestion. It looked like it was a new idea to them, but they seemed to go for it, so a few hours later I trudged up the stairs with my light green tray (on which always sits a bowl of rice and a carton of milk). I had gotten there way too early, because in every class the appointed students bring up all the trays and bowls and big silver boxes of food, and then dish it out for everyone. So I sat there at Yuka's desk for awhile, until it was time to push the desks together in the lunch group pattern (roughly 6 people to a group). It was a little awkward, because they all (all girls) kind of seemed self conscious, even though we were speaking in both English and Japanese. But it was interesting to watch what was going around me, and how the students talked to each other, and even what they talked about, when I could make it out.
The homeroom teacher, eating at his desk, would occasionally call out a question, supposedly for one of the students to translate into English for me. It was kind of weird, because he was never really addressing me, even though I understood most of his questions (the most personality-revealing of which was: "What's your favorite hamburger place in Japan?"). He would also ask these questions when I was in the middle of a conversation with someone else, which is often a kind of involved affair if we are trying to figure out what the other person is talking about. Anyhow, I really liked hanging out with them... for exactly what reason I couldn't really say. I think I am at a good age for them- old enough that I am interesting, but young enough that I still know whats up. Presumably.
After those two lunches our schedules worked such that I couldn't eat with them again that week, and even though I wanted to with them yesterday (Monday), I felt kind of lame about asking them. (Am I really worried about 15 year olds thinking I am lame?) Luckily, Monday afterschool, Yuka, armed with Yasuyo and another girl, came into the teacher's room and asked me if I would eat with them the next day. So today around 12:40 I trudged up those same stairs with a different but identical light green tray, still with rice, always with milk. The kid who always comes and asks me about Pearl Harbor came and showed me some manga-esque drawings whose authorship I couldn't really ascertain. My host Yuka, in her organized fashion, showed me to her desk while I waited for the desk-rearranging time to begin.
I don't think it is too much of a generalization to say that all Japanese people eat extremely fast. And since we only have so much time to eat, I had to try to shovel food and think of discussion-worthy topics to bring up at the same time. I guess because of that we didn't get much chitchat in today, but after we put away our trays and the teacher left, a couple of the girls brought out disposable cameras, and I ran and got my digital as well. We called Ryo, the boy I worked with at the beginning of the year for the English speech contest, over multiple times to be our photographer. Man, I just really want to be everyone's friend.
It sounds strange to say, but I have been really surprised with how much I care about the students. I guess that has been one of the biggest surprises through this experience. It isn't that I came here hating kids and now I can't wait to pop out my own in contribution to overpopulation, but I really feel... I guess the best way to express it is that I feel like I want everyone to study really hard, make me their penpal, then come out and visit me in California once they are college-aged or something. That sounds kind of weird. I guess I just want to be a good role model, and make the students want to do something more than staff out one of the billion 7-11's in the vicinity. I think I had expected to come here and learn a lot about the language, the culture, the food... but the job was kind of cursory. If anything I thought the in depth look into language would interest me the most, but what I didn't foresee was the constraints of The (Educational) System, or just how different (and therefore difficult) Japanese and English are. And kids are funny?
For, really months, I got the feeling I was being mocked. Whether it was in hellos or goodbyes, students seemed too eager, too loud or something. It really took me a long time to be able to differentiate that with what is real mocking (which happens fairly seldom). I don't remember when it was, but it was really just one day like any another when it hit me that kids are just kind of loud and energetic like that normally, even the famously morose junior high set. Once I got rid of that suspicion I was being made fun of, life in the halls got a lot more fun.
The third years graduate next week, two weeks earlier than school gets out for the rest of the students. I'll miss them, they are my favorite. :/
My love of vegetables was awakened in Germany, but fruit is still the cornerstone of my culinary heart. My mother delights in telling "embarrassing" stories from my youth, and the image that gets me is a four year old Meredith carrying fruit around the house, one piece in each arm, just to have it near. Walking to the top of the driveway and rolling it down, bruising it over and over again. It is hard to tell how much of this has been embellished over the years, but I don't think its that important.
Anyhow, my first romance in Japan was with kaki (柿 , or so I could read it: かき), or persimmons. Oh, sweet persimmon season. It lasted from about September to December, and I genuinely grieved it's passing. It seemed like every house had a persimmon tree, and thus prices were usually nice and low. What an amazing fruit. After kaki came mikan, which I still don't know the exact translation for. I thought they were basically mandarin oranges, but I guess they are more like the mandarin's cousin. Then after mikan came what is yet another relative of the orange... but not exactly an orange. Hylton and I got into an argument about this and thus I will leave its classification at that. And now, especially here in Naruto, STRAWBERRY season. いちごがだいき. ほんとだよ! I remember saying strawberries were my favorite fruit for a long time, but in the past years we've backed off a little from each other, but now we're right back where we belong. I've mentioned before that Naruto is "famous for strawberries," and we are going strawberry picking in a few weekends. Hylton and I don't make a ton of money so when I get strawberries I usually get the cheapest kind from the grocery store, but there are little strawberry stands set up all over the place (they are permanent structures, they are just closed most of the year) around here. If you couldn't read いちご then you would be able to spot the stands by the FLASHING RED SIREN LIGHTS posted outside almost every one. Japan is extreme about colors and flashing lights, let me tell you. I bike past a bunch of these places, but have only ever been inside one, and there were five or six different varieties of strawberries they let you sample. The most amazing thing was that though they all were delicious, all the varieties had really different tastes.
Anyhow, as one of my students would say, "I like fruits." I have been bad and haven't been studying Japanese lately. It mostly started when I was so miserable (sick) at work, and then later it was just easy to use my free time to stare at maps of Malaysia (Taman Negara I am coming for you!) instead of grammar charts. I don't know why Japanese is so difficult for me, there are things about it that should make it way easier than other languages I've taken a swing at. I guess Latin roots are my friends. Anyhow, I picked up my grammar book again today with inspiration from my third year (junior high) students.
Last Monday and Tuesday I ate my school lunch not at my desk with the biddies gossiping away behind me (maybe I'm being harsh), but with 3D, a class of soon-to-be-graduated 15 year old junior high students. I had wanted to do this before, but kind of didn't know how to go about it. Anyhow, long story short, I was talking with some of the girls in 3D (hah) after my last lesson with them (which I didn't find out until that morning... I am most definitely the least informed staff member at that school), and some were saying they would miss me, which really melted my heart. So I was like, well, maybe I could come eat lunch with you? And then I almost wished I hadn't brought it up, because even if they didn't like the idea they would probably feel obligated to act like that was a fantastic suggestion. It looked like it was a new idea to them, but they seemed to go for it, so a few hours later I trudged up the stairs with my light green tray (on which always sits a bowl of rice and a carton of milk). I had gotten there way too early, because in every class the appointed students bring up all the trays and bowls and big silver boxes of food, and then dish it out for everyone. So I sat there at Yuka's desk for awhile, until it was time to push the desks together in the lunch group pattern (roughly 6 people to a group). It was a little awkward, because they all (all girls) kind of seemed self conscious, even though we were speaking in both English and Japanese. But it was interesting to watch what was going around me, and how the students talked to each other, and even what they talked about, when I could make it out.
The homeroom teacher, eating at his desk, would occasionally call out a question, supposedly for one of the students to translate into English for me. It was kind of weird, because he was never really addressing me, even though I understood most of his questions (the most personality-revealing of which was: "What's your favorite hamburger place in Japan?"). He would also ask these questions when I was in the middle of a conversation with someone else, which is often a kind of involved affair if we are trying to figure out what the other person is talking about. Anyhow, I really liked hanging out with them... for exactly what reason I couldn't really say. I think I am at a good age for them- old enough that I am interesting, but young enough that I still know whats up. Presumably.
After those two lunches our schedules worked such that I couldn't eat with them again that week, and even though I wanted to with them yesterday (Monday), I felt kind of lame about asking them. (Am I really worried about 15 year olds thinking I am lame?) Luckily, Monday afterschool, Yuka, armed with Yasuyo and another girl, came into the teacher's room and asked me if I would eat with them the next day. So today around 12:40 I trudged up those same stairs with a different but identical light green tray, still with rice, always with milk. The kid who always comes and asks me about Pearl Harbor came and showed me some manga-esque drawings whose authorship I couldn't really ascertain. My host Yuka, in her organized fashion, showed me to her desk while I waited for the desk-rearranging time to begin.
I don't think it is too much of a generalization to say that all Japanese people eat extremely fast. And since we only have so much time to eat, I had to try to shovel food and think of discussion-worthy topics to bring up at the same time. I guess because of that we didn't get much chitchat in today, but after we put away our trays and the teacher left, a couple of the girls brought out disposable cameras, and I ran and got my digital as well. We called Ryo, the boy I worked with at the beginning of the year for the English speech contest, over multiple times to be our photographer. Man, I just really want to be everyone's friend.
It sounds strange to say, but I have been really surprised with how much I care about the students. I guess that has been one of the biggest surprises through this experience. It isn't that I came here hating kids and now I can't wait to pop out my own in contribution to overpopulation, but I really feel... I guess the best way to express it is that I feel like I want everyone to study really hard, make me their penpal, then come out and visit me in California once they are college-aged or something. That sounds kind of weird. I guess I just want to be a good role model, and make the students want to do something more than staff out one of the billion 7-11's in the vicinity. I think I had expected to come here and learn a lot about the language, the culture, the food... but the job was kind of cursory. If anything I thought the in depth look into language would interest me the most, but what I didn't foresee was the constraints of The (Educational) System, or just how different (and therefore difficult) Japanese and English are. And kids are funny?
For, really months, I got the feeling I was being mocked. Whether it was in hellos or goodbyes, students seemed too eager, too loud or something. It really took me a long time to be able to differentiate that with what is real mocking (which happens fairly seldom). I don't remember when it was, but it was really just one day like any another when it hit me that kids are just kind of loud and energetic like that normally, even the famously morose junior high set. Once I got rid of that suspicion I was being made fun of, life in the halls got a lot more fun.
The third years graduate next week, two weeks earlier than school gets out for the rest of the students. I'll miss them, they are my favorite. :/
Saturday, March 1, 2008
peach blossoms
I hesitate to say that winter is already on it's way out, though as the third month of 2008 arrives I have to say things do seem to be brightening up. On my walk home from the mini-farmer's market that we just heard about a few days ago (that apparently has existed every weekend, just a seven or eight minute walk from our apartment) I was met with the early harbingers of spring. As I shuffled past, I peeked into the gated residential gardens, sometimes litter-strewn and sometimes impeccably kept, and was rewarded with delicate lines of peach blossoms. It is only when the first tendrils of spring unfold that I realize just how much the winter gray can affect me.
Arguably my best times in Germany came with the spring, which makes me feel a bit sad that perhaps I will be leaving Japan at just the point where I'd be settling in. But I have lamented this enough. Were I to really transplant here, I think I am at the age (and have the disposition?) where I would enjoy living in a bigger city, or at least in a city. Naruto has it's charms, but as far as social activities go, I am kind of limited to my next-door boyfriend, and the occasional jaunt with one of the handful of foreigners I know in the surrounding towns. Most of the hip experiences I've had have been (unsurprisingly) in Tokyo, which on most weekends seems a lot farther away than it really is.
I have been spending most of my free time writing emails that could possibly appeal to a wider audience (though I somehow feel bad about just copying and pasting things to my blog), and continuing research for our Southeast Asia trip. I haven't really made any more concrete decisions than the last time I wrote, even on which route we will take in peninsular SE Asia... I am still trying to figure out border crossing information. It is hard to know what source has the most up to date information, and if that information is really even up to date enough. This is of primary importance with these countries as they are growing up so quickly. Anyway.
Week before last my mom was here, which was very nice, except that I had to go to work every day but the one she came in on (Sunday) and the one she flew out on (Saturday). She was aware of all of this when she bought her tickets back in the fall, but I got daily guilt trips from the coworkers at my school who knew she was here. It was difficult to explain in English why she would want to come here and then not scramble around to see every tourist spot, but this was nearly impossible in Japanese. So with every new teacher's suggestion of Kyoto or Tokyo I would nod politely and promise to look into it.
Though we didn't scurry around the country snapping photos of every famous landmark, Mom did get to see a side of Japan she apparently wasn't already acquainted with. (That is, farming country! Yeehaw) From around 1980 to 1982 my father was stationed at the navy base in Yokosuka, Japan, and my mom lived thereabouts, and in Yokohama (which is almost exactly just across the Boso peninsula and Tokyo Bay from me). My sister was also born here... and living here now I guess I complete the family picture.
I think what might have been the highlight of the visit, apart from the two nights of yakiniku at a neighborhood restaurant we just discovered (... mmhm grilled beef), was on Mom's last night here. One of the three junior high English teachers I work with invited my mom, Hylton and I to her home in Chiba (about 45 minutes to an hour away). I accepted the invitation without ever really figuring out if it was just to look at their newly unpacked display for Hina Matsuri (Doll Festival/Girl's Day, March 3rd), as was described, or if we'd be getting food in the process as well. Another one of the teachers I work with at that school, at whose home Hylton and I have twice dined, was also invited along with his wife.
The teacher picked up Mom, Hylton and I, and drove us through Friday traffic to her house. Once there I quickly realized we would be greeted with characteristic Japanese hospitality--- in other words, lots of food. I basically spent the evening alternating between watching my teacher's husband try to convince Hylton to accompany him to a soccer game, and my mom and my two coworker's quickly polishing off whole bottles of wine, and the expected outcomes thereof. I kind of felt lame, down at the end of the table, but I was able to secure most of the strawberries for myself. The courteous drive home by the other teacher's wife was also a spirited affair, as my (other) teacher was good and drunk. A lot of the evening's (drunken) conversation had centered around my teacher's inebriated antics in college, and how his then-girlfriend, now-wife had had to write all of his papers for him. Interesting confessions from an educator. Very funny, though. The quote Hylton and I keep repeating that isn't really funny unless you were there: "Every day I kiss my wife and put my hand on his waist."
I also just realized that this week I passed the one month mark--- I have now less than one month of teaching left. More intellectual drivel on this subject to come.
Arguably my best times in Germany came with the spring, which makes me feel a bit sad that perhaps I will be leaving Japan at just the point where I'd be settling in. But I have lamented this enough. Were I to really transplant here, I think I am at the age (and have the disposition?) where I would enjoy living in a bigger city, or at least in a city. Naruto has it's charms, but as far as social activities go, I am kind of limited to my next-door boyfriend, and the occasional jaunt with one of the handful of foreigners I know in the surrounding towns. Most of the hip experiences I've had have been (unsurprisingly) in Tokyo, which on most weekends seems a lot farther away than it really is.
I have been spending most of my free time writing emails that could possibly appeal to a wider audience (though I somehow feel bad about just copying and pasting things to my blog), and continuing research for our Southeast Asia trip. I haven't really made any more concrete decisions than the last time I wrote, even on which route we will take in peninsular SE Asia... I am still trying to figure out border crossing information. It is hard to know what source has the most up to date information, and if that information is really even up to date enough. This is of primary importance with these countries as they are growing up so quickly. Anyway.
Week before last my mom was here, which was very nice, except that I had to go to work every day but the one she came in on (Sunday) and the one she flew out on (Saturday). She was aware of all of this when she bought her tickets back in the fall, but I got daily guilt trips from the coworkers at my school who knew she was here. It was difficult to explain in English why she would want to come here and then not scramble around to see every tourist spot, but this was nearly impossible in Japanese. So with every new teacher's suggestion of Kyoto or Tokyo I would nod politely and promise to look into it.
Though we didn't scurry around the country snapping photos of every famous landmark, Mom did get to see a side of Japan she apparently wasn't already acquainted with. (That is, farming country! Yeehaw) From around 1980 to 1982 my father was stationed at the navy base in Yokosuka, Japan, and my mom lived thereabouts, and in Yokohama (which is almost exactly just across the Boso peninsula and Tokyo Bay from me). My sister was also born here... and living here now I guess I complete the family picture.
I think what might have been the highlight of the visit, apart from the two nights of yakiniku at a neighborhood restaurant we just discovered (... mmhm grilled beef), was on Mom's last night here. One of the three junior high English teachers I work with invited my mom, Hylton and I to her home in Chiba (about 45 minutes to an hour away). I accepted the invitation without ever really figuring out if it was just to look at their newly unpacked display for Hina Matsuri (Doll Festival/Girl's Day, March 3rd), as was described, or if we'd be getting food in the process as well. Another one of the teachers I work with at that school, at whose home Hylton and I have twice dined, was also invited along with his wife.
The teacher picked up Mom, Hylton and I, and drove us through Friday traffic to her house. Once there I quickly realized we would be greeted with characteristic Japanese hospitality--- in other words, lots of food. I basically spent the evening alternating between watching my teacher's husband try to convince Hylton to accompany him to a soccer game, and my mom and my two coworker's quickly polishing off whole bottles of wine, and the expected outcomes thereof. I kind of felt lame, down at the end of the table, but I was able to secure most of the strawberries for myself. The courteous drive home by the other teacher's wife was also a spirited affair, as my (other) teacher was good and drunk. A lot of the evening's (drunken) conversation had centered around my teacher's inebriated antics in college, and how his then-girlfriend, now-wife had had to write all of his papers for him. Interesting confessions from an educator. Very funny, though. The quote Hylton and I keep repeating that isn't really funny unless you were there: "Every day I kiss my wife and put my hand on his waist."
I also just realized that this week I passed the one month mark--- I have now less than one month of teaching left. More intellectual drivel on this subject to come.
Friday, February 15, 2008
sick days
Today is the second sick day I have taken so far in this job. As I don't get paid days off, I hate to take them, but I am sick and tired of shuffling around miserably all day.
The fact that I am exposed to over 900 children on a weekly basis isn't the worst part--- the worst part is that I am exposed to twice that through Hylton. So it feels like the second one of us finally feels somewhat recovered, we'll wake up the next morning sporting the other person's latest affliction. It is beyond frustrating. I eat oranges, I drink hot lemon vitamin C drinks, I wash my hands, I almost always get a decent if not totally complete night's rest. There doesn't seem to be any escaping.
It kind of felt like I was perpetually sick my first two years of college. Part of that was living with and around a lot of people, and another part was late nights and strange schedules. Then I went to Germany. I didn't seem to get sick much there. My fourth year of college I lived in a two bedroom apartment with my friend Jacky, and though it was a stressful year in terms of getting everything done in order to graduate on time (which was somewhat hampered by having gone abroad for a year), neither of us got sick much. So, say my first two years of college I got about two bad colds a quarter (a quarter, you'll remember, is 10 weeks long). Third year of college (in Germany) I got maybe 3 bad colds the entire year. Though I do remember throwing up a lot... mmhm social drinking. My fourth year of college the cold acquirage went up a bit and the throwing up went way down. Still not bad. My health this year, my first year of "real job," had seemed fairly stable until December. Since the new year alone I have had at least four bad colds. The interesting thing is that all have been started off with a bad fever, which normally induces me into at least some vomiting. I don't remember most colds at home beginning with the please-put-me-out-of-my-misery fever. I don't know what this means, exactly.
One of the most annoying things about having to go to work throughout all of this is that teachers keep telling me to stay home. I don't know how to tell them that since I don't get paid sick days, I can't really afford to. I am pretty sure that would come off to a Japanese person like, well, I care more about making money than not getting other people sick. And that is assuming I could say all of that in Japanese, which, come on people, no one is believing at this point.
The only way I have been able to get through some days is by telling myself I would stay home the next day, and today I finally did. I don't think I am missing anything at my middle school this morning (though I guess I'll see on Monday if thats true), and I was cringing at the thought of the commute to and from my elementary school in the afternoon. It has been SO windy on Fridays the past two months, which makes my 45 minute bike ride home from Naruhama Elementary even more daunting. And because it seems like teachers stay home when they are sick, by me showing up, even obviously sick, it means the presiding teacher doesn't feel obligated to step in when the 60 third graders start shrieking. I could be explaining this better, but basically elementary classes go a lot better the more energetic you are, and today is not my day to be energetic.
Another reason for staying home today is that I want to be well rested and hopefully mostly recovered by Sunday afternoon when my mom arrives!!! I figured that the more well I feel, the better I will be to be around, which should make for a better visit. Mom is getting over a bout of bronchitis, so hopefully she will be feeling reasonably healthy here as well. Because Mom has her own job, she can only stay for about six days, but as there isn't a ton to do around here anyway and she isn't terribly interested in traveling, it turns out okay that I will have to be at work every day.
If you have even read this far you've probably gotten the feeling that I have some guilt issues about staying home from work. I was the same way about this in high school, and even in college, where class attendance wasn't even always mandatory. I am always worried about what I am going to miss (like some ridiculous pop quiz that accounts for 75% of your grade), though I know it is usually just a day like any other. And even if it was a bad day to miss... well, oh well, right? I tell myself things like "your health is the most important thing," even when I eschew that adage all the other days I drag myself, runny nosed and bleary eyed, to work.
The fact that I am exposed to over 900 children on a weekly basis isn't the worst part--- the worst part is that I am exposed to twice that through Hylton. So it feels like the second one of us finally feels somewhat recovered, we'll wake up the next morning sporting the other person's latest affliction. It is beyond frustrating. I eat oranges, I drink hot lemon vitamin C drinks, I wash my hands, I almost always get a decent if not totally complete night's rest. There doesn't seem to be any escaping.
It kind of felt like I was perpetually sick my first two years of college. Part of that was living with and around a lot of people, and another part was late nights and strange schedules. Then I went to Germany. I didn't seem to get sick much there. My fourth year of college I lived in a two bedroom apartment with my friend Jacky, and though it was a stressful year in terms of getting everything done in order to graduate on time (which was somewhat hampered by having gone abroad for a year), neither of us got sick much. So, say my first two years of college I got about two bad colds a quarter (a quarter, you'll remember, is 10 weeks long). Third year of college (in Germany) I got maybe 3 bad colds the entire year. Though I do remember throwing up a lot... mmhm social drinking. My fourth year of college the cold acquirage went up a bit and the throwing up went way down. Still not bad. My health this year, my first year of "real job," had seemed fairly stable until December. Since the new year alone I have had at least four bad colds. The interesting thing is that all have been started off with a bad fever, which normally induces me into at least some vomiting. I don't remember most colds at home beginning with the please-put-me-out-of-my-misery fever. I don't know what this means, exactly.
One of the most annoying things about having to go to work throughout all of this is that teachers keep telling me to stay home. I don't know how to tell them that since I don't get paid sick days, I can't really afford to. I am pretty sure that would come off to a Japanese person like, well, I care more about making money than not getting other people sick. And that is assuming I could say all of that in Japanese, which, come on people, no one is believing at this point.
The only way I have been able to get through some days is by telling myself I would stay home the next day, and today I finally did. I don't think I am missing anything at my middle school this morning (though I guess I'll see on Monday if thats true), and I was cringing at the thought of the commute to and from my elementary school in the afternoon. It has been SO windy on Fridays the past two months, which makes my 45 minute bike ride home from Naruhama Elementary even more daunting. And because it seems like teachers stay home when they are sick, by me showing up, even obviously sick, it means the presiding teacher doesn't feel obligated to step in when the 60 third graders start shrieking. I could be explaining this better, but basically elementary classes go a lot better the more energetic you are, and today is not my day to be energetic.
Another reason for staying home today is that I want to be well rested and hopefully mostly recovered by Sunday afternoon when my mom arrives!!! I figured that the more well I feel, the better I will be to be around, which should make for a better visit. Mom is getting over a bout of bronchitis, so hopefully she will be feeling reasonably healthy here as well. Because Mom has her own job, she can only stay for about six days, but as there isn't a ton to do around here anyway and she isn't terribly interested in traveling, it turns out okay that I will have to be at work every day.
If you have even read this far you've probably gotten the feeling that I have some guilt issues about staying home from work. I was the same way about this in high school, and even in college, where class attendance wasn't even always mandatory. I am always worried about what I am going to miss (like some ridiculous pop quiz that accounts for 75% of your grade), though I know it is usually just a day like any other. And even if it was a bad day to miss... well, oh well, right? I tell myself things like "your health is the most important thing," even when I eschew that adage all the other days I drag myself, runny nosed and bleary eyed, to work.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
first love
A friend of mine has recently returned to the U.S. after what I believe is his second stint living abroad. By the time I came to Japan at the end of summer 2007, he had already been working in India for a few months. When I was living in Germany, he was living in Thailand.
These past weeks have been mostly consumed with planning and researching my upcoming trip to Southeast Asia. I wrote aforementioned friend for insider advice, and also to reestablish contact now that he's back on the mother continent. His sentiments about the difference between his experience living in Thailand and India pretty much sum up how I feel about Germany and Japan.
He likened his first experience living abroad to a first love. The first foreign residence, like that first time your heart breaks free, is shocking, intense, blissful, and painful beyond measure. Everything is unlike what you've experienced before. And then, the next place you go--- well, no doubt it is different, and no doubt it has its ups and downs, but maybe you don't have as much of yourself to give the second time around. Maybe some of that youthful exuberance has just been used up. To many Germany likely doesn't seem very exotic or even perhaps too different of a culture than the one I grew up in. But that doesn't change the fact that I took great pride in my understanding of 20th century German literature, or that those downhill midnight bike rides are perhaps the best I will ever have. For a memory that is so often hazy, the vividness with which my memories from being twenty one in Germany burn signify an eternal appreciation for the Germany I knew.
And here I am in Japan. It is getting later on a Wednesday night, and I have been struck with my third bad cold of 2008. I am contemplating not going into work tomorrow, even though that would cost me at least a day and a half's pay. I will probably go to work. But if tomorrow is like any other previous day of this week, it will be a long, miserable stretch. This isn't what I mean to be discussing right now.
And here I am now, in Japan. As my energies naturally focus towards The Next Goal, that is, the Southeast Asia trip, the realization that my time in Japan is drawing to a close is falling by the wayside. It is a reality I know is there... but it isn't one of those things I really know what to do with. I mean, I work full time, which pretty much erases grand ideas for weekend trips. The truth of the situation is that Hylton and I are both bone tired by the time Friday evening rolls around. And even though most weekends we manage to go out and do something, the Sundays I spend lying in my bed sorting wet laundry are the days I often enjoy myself the most.
So what I am getting at is that Japan isn't my first love. Right now it almost feels like a romance that was never meant to be; perhaps I come with too much baggage. But I do love Japan, almost as much as some of it's customs and cultural ambiguities can frustrate me. It strikes me as I type that perhaps the best way I can describe my feelings for Japan is that it is a romance underdeveloped. Even though by the time I leave I will have only spent a few less months here than in Germany, I think I left Germany more confident in my knowledge of it than I will leave Japan. Perhaps its the circles I've moved in. In Germany I was surrounded by literally thousands of students. And... uh... I guess I am here too, in a very real sense, but I am not a student myself. Instead I am one of those ambiguous "foreign workers," who are both a curiosity and a disgrace. My Japanese is basic at best. I provide a service that many would argue is no longer needed in this country. But perhaps no longer essential, at least useful... and if you could see the way I get stared at it'd give you good reason to argue against Japan's heterogeneity.
What probably gives me this "underdeveloped" feeling the most is that I really could conceivably live in Japan longer. I have a job and, though relatively low paying, it is something I have proven to be within my capabilities. The majority of the foreigners I know here put down roots years ago, or are in the slow process of doing so. My Japanese would have nowhere to go but up, and I could continue cultivating the fragile saplings that are my handful of friendships here. But that doesn't look to be in the cards. Even though I don't exactly have future plans, those who I would follow around do, so I am not completely without compass. Without map... perhaps.
Though I still need to devote at least a paragraph each to the wonder that was Takaragawa Onsen and to the fun that was Johnny's visit around New Year's, I (obviously) haven't felt too much of a need to update lately. Once work started back up at the beginning of January, I fell back into the pattern of 9 to 5in' (or in my case, 8:30 to 4:30in'). After work, come home, consume Pocky/ snacks traditionally eaten by Japanese men with sake (without the sake), read articles online, cook dinner with Hylton, watch satirical American new shows via youtube, etc. OH and like I already said, the 900 + students I see on a weekly basis have been kind enough to provide me with a number of happiness-sapping colds, which is a pretty stupid word for an illness when you think about it. It snowed a couple of weeks ago, which was the most shocking check-the-weather-before-I-get-dressed-for-work moment I've had here. So yeah, it's been cold, but luckily I have a heater which works a hell of a lot better than the one I had in Germany. Unfortunately the artificial heat dries out my already raw nose skin (longest drippy nose of recent memory), and this morning I woke up with dried blood on the corners of my mouth. I think I'll leave you with that visual.
As always, more later.
These past weeks have been mostly consumed with planning and researching my upcoming trip to Southeast Asia. I wrote aforementioned friend for insider advice, and also to reestablish contact now that he's back on the mother continent. His sentiments about the difference between his experience living in Thailand and India pretty much sum up how I feel about Germany and Japan.
He likened his first experience living abroad to a first love. The first foreign residence, like that first time your heart breaks free, is shocking, intense, blissful, and painful beyond measure. Everything is unlike what you've experienced before. And then, the next place you go--- well, no doubt it is different, and no doubt it has its ups and downs, but maybe you don't have as much of yourself to give the second time around. Maybe some of that youthful exuberance has just been used up. To many Germany likely doesn't seem very exotic or even perhaps too different of a culture than the one I grew up in. But that doesn't change the fact that I took great pride in my understanding of 20th century German literature, or that those downhill midnight bike rides are perhaps the best I will ever have. For a memory that is so often hazy, the vividness with which my memories from being twenty one in Germany burn signify an eternal appreciation for the Germany I knew.
And here I am in Japan. It is getting later on a Wednesday night, and I have been struck with my third bad cold of 2008. I am contemplating not going into work tomorrow, even though that would cost me at least a day and a half's pay. I will probably go to work. But if tomorrow is like any other previous day of this week, it will be a long, miserable stretch. This isn't what I mean to be discussing right now.
And here I am now, in Japan. As my energies naturally focus towards The Next Goal, that is, the Southeast Asia trip, the realization that my time in Japan is drawing to a close is falling by the wayside. It is a reality I know is there... but it isn't one of those things I really know what to do with. I mean, I work full time, which pretty much erases grand ideas for weekend trips. The truth of the situation is that Hylton and I are both bone tired by the time Friday evening rolls around. And even though most weekends we manage to go out and do something, the Sundays I spend lying in my bed sorting wet laundry are the days I often enjoy myself the most.
So what I am getting at is that Japan isn't my first love. Right now it almost feels like a romance that was never meant to be; perhaps I come with too much baggage. But I do love Japan, almost as much as some of it's customs and cultural ambiguities can frustrate me. It strikes me as I type that perhaps the best way I can describe my feelings for Japan is that it is a romance underdeveloped. Even though by the time I leave I will have only spent a few less months here than in Germany, I think I left Germany more confident in my knowledge of it than I will leave Japan. Perhaps its the circles I've moved in. In Germany I was surrounded by literally thousands of students. And... uh... I guess I am here too, in a very real sense, but I am not a student myself. Instead I am one of those ambiguous "foreign workers," who are both a curiosity and a disgrace. My Japanese is basic at best. I provide a service that many would argue is no longer needed in this country. But perhaps no longer essential, at least useful... and if you could see the way I get stared at it'd give you good reason to argue against Japan's heterogeneity.
What probably gives me this "underdeveloped" feeling the most is that I really could conceivably live in Japan longer. I have a job and, though relatively low paying, it is something I have proven to be within my capabilities. The majority of the foreigners I know here put down roots years ago, or are in the slow process of doing so. My Japanese would have nowhere to go but up, and I could continue cultivating the fragile saplings that are my handful of friendships here. But that doesn't look to be in the cards. Even though I don't exactly have future plans, those who I would follow around do, so I am not completely without compass. Without map... perhaps.
Though I still need to devote at least a paragraph each to the wonder that was Takaragawa Onsen and to the fun that was Johnny's visit around New Year's, I (obviously) haven't felt too much of a need to update lately. Once work started back up at the beginning of January, I fell back into the pattern of 9 to 5in' (or in my case, 8:30 to 4:30in'). After work, come home, consume Pocky/ snacks traditionally eaten by Japanese men with sake (without the sake), read articles online, cook dinner with Hylton, watch satirical American new shows via youtube, etc. OH and like I already said, the 900 + students I see on a weekly basis have been kind enough to provide me with a number of happiness-sapping colds, which is a pretty stupid word for an illness when you think about it. It snowed a couple of weeks ago, which was the most shocking check-the-weather-before-I-get-dressed-for-work moment I've had here. So yeah, it's been cold, but luckily I have a heater which works a hell of a lot better than the one I had in Germany. Unfortunately the artificial heat dries out my already raw nose skin (longest drippy nose of recent memory), and this morning I woke up with dried blood on the corners of my mouth. I think I'll leave you with that visual.
As always, more later.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Minakami
We left Naruto early on the morning of December 23rd. Five hours through Greater Tokyo (through five prefectures, actually) and into the mountains, we finally arrived in Minakami. The town is known as a hot springs town (and therefore a touristy spot), so I was a little confused that it appeared so desolate and kind of run down. After a few minutes of watching all who had been our fellow passengers on the train through the mountains climb into the appointed buses, we finally found ours. Then it was the designated 15 minutes until we reached the stop for Asanebou. Asanebou is the pension (guest house) that Mieko, one of Hylton's adult English conversation students, helped us book earlier on in December. We knew we wanted to go to a mountain onsen (from here on out just remember that onsen means hot springs) for Christmas, but as most of the websites with information and booking are solely in Japanese, we had some real difficulties until Mieko offered to step in. We stopped by her office one day, and she and her husband presented us with a bunch of printed out information, and then led us to the computer to figure things out further. They ended up calling for us and everything, and I was really blown away by how much time they were taking out of their schedule to help us.
Once off the bus, we kind of looked around, and then saw the Asanebou sign a little ways up the hill. As we ascended the hill I happened to look to my left -AND GET THIS- saw monkeys!!! Real, cute, furry monkeys! They were scared of us, and quickly scrambled up into the leafless trees, but oh they were so cute. We found out later from the pension owners that they are generally considered pests, who dig up flower bulbs and steal persimmons. However I didn't let that dampen my esteem for them.
Once at the pension we were greeted by Tokushima san (Mrs.), who was visibly relieved that we could speak some Japanese. Because we had had Japanese people call in for us and make the reservation, she probably figured she was dealing with another set of no-speaky whities. Then we were led to our room, which was open for the first day since the remodeling was completed. It smelled a little of fresh paint, but other than that was nice and quaint, with our own heated toliet seat and everything.
Next we were shown the indoor baths, which are supplied with real hot springs water. Then we were pointed to the way to the rotemburo, the outdoor bath, which I had been looking forward to ever since I found out there were such things. I forced Hylton to/we wasted no time, and soon found out the joys of outdoor hot spring bathing. The bath was small, and under a roof without walls. It was attached to a little hut for changing out of your clothes, which sometimes was heated and sometimes wasn't. You were supposed to hang a sign on the door when occupied, so that the bath was private. You were also supposed to wash up completely by the faucet between the bath and the changing hut before entering the bath. This turned out to be really neat and really difficult, as it doesn't take much imagination to see how petrifyingly cold dumping buckets of water over yourself in snowing weather would feel. But I really love water, and I loved loved being out there in the rotemburo.
On our second day in Minakmai it snowed, and sitting outdoors in hot, no-chemicals water watching the light snow cover the surrounding rocks was truly beautiful. We even saw a big snowy monkey skitter past us once.
The other delight besides onsen was the excellent food that the Tokushimas prepared (breakfast and dinner were included with the price of our stay). The first night we ate in the dining room with five other couples, one of which stuck around far after the plates had been cleared away, talking with us and Mr. and Mrs. Tokushima. Unfortunately this couple left the next day, but we did manage to have a nice talk with them. Of course, when I say "we" I really mean Hylton, as I spent all my energy trying to follow the conversation, letalone add anything to it. I have differing opinions on this kind of situation, but it was a nice evening, and the food was really really good.
On our second day we ate breakfast with all the other couples, who all ended up leaving that day. We spent the day mostly lazying around, in the rotemburo or reading in our room. We took another walk around the bit of the "city" we were in, which was mostly just a main street in the sense of a road passing through somewhere, not in the sense of a Main Street. From our room window we had a clear view of the mountains and the ski slopes, from which wafted a constant ethereal sound. Upon closer inspection we found that this sound was really just bad J-pop presumably played for the skiers. When heard from a short distance, however, it made you feel like you were in some fantasy video game.
For some inbetween breakfast-and-dinner food we went on a snowy walk to an udon place we had heard about the day previous. I was just in the market for some cheap filler noodles, but the place ended up being a little classier. They seemed kind of snooty (foreigners! ick!), but I think Hylton really did a number on them when he delivered a real zinger. He, in an attempt to give reason for only ordering a cup of coffee, was trying to say おなかがあまりすかない or "I'm not really hungry." Instead he ended up saying おなかがあまりすわない or, something most closely translatable as "I'm not really sucking my stomach." I don't think this looks as good in print. At least you get the idea.
At this same place I thought I was ordering かけ soba, which is basically "regular soba noodles." Instead I ordered (I think?) がき soba, which ended up being big hunks of wheat stuff in water. By the end I was in no doubt that I had gotten my carbohydrates for the day.
On our second night at Asanebou we were the only guests, so it wasn't difficult to spend most of the evening after dinner with the Tokushimas in their dining room, getting extra freebies like strawberry shortcake and mikan (mandarin oranges) from Kyushu. Again, I spent the majority of my time listening, but it was an interesting way to spend an evening. I got a little uptight when Hylton inevitably veered into talking politics, but they took it with stride, and Tokushima Mr. who had at first struck me as kind of gruff and brusque ended up proving his worldliness. Either that or they were just really polite, but as city folk-come-mountain folk they struck me as the latter.
The jokes from the days previous of us helping out in the yard actually became reality as Hylton, Tokushima san (Mr.) and I trudged out to the garden after breakfast on Christmas morning. [And sidenote, though Christmas does seem to be celebrated in Japan at least in the some parents give their kids a gift way, I never heard Christmas mentioned on the actual day.] We spent two hours bending hand shovels and freezing through our multi-layered gardening gloves. At the end of the morning, the three of us had planted some 500 bulbs under the earth and snow. We were rewarded with a free lunch and, hospitality of hospitalities, a car ride to our next destination: Takaragawa River onsen.
Rereading all of this, it really was such a nice little escape. It is easy to see why the Japanese, who are notoriously hard workers, hold onsen-going so dear.
More to come.
Once off the bus, we kind of looked around, and then saw the Asanebou sign a little ways up the hill. As we ascended the hill I happened to look to my left -AND GET THIS- saw monkeys!!! Real, cute, furry monkeys! They were scared of us, and quickly scrambled up into the leafless trees, but oh they were so cute. We found out later from the pension owners that they are generally considered pests, who dig up flower bulbs and steal persimmons. However I didn't let that dampen my esteem for them.
Once at the pension we were greeted by Tokushima san (Mrs.), who was visibly relieved that we could speak some Japanese. Because we had had Japanese people call in for us and make the reservation, she probably figured she was dealing with another set of no-speaky whities. Then we were led to our room, which was open for the first day since the remodeling was completed. It smelled a little of fresh paint, but other than that was nice and quaint, with our own heated toliet seat and everything.
Next we were shown the indoor baths, which are supplied with real hot springs water. Then we were pointed to the way to the rotemburo, the outdoor bath, which I had been looking forward to ever since I found out there were such things. I forced Hylton to/we wasted no time, and soon found out the joys of outdoor hot spring bathing. The bath was small, and under a roof without walls. It was attached to a little hut for changing out of your clothes, which sometimes was heated and sometimes wasn't. You were supposed to hang a sign on the door when occupied, so that the bath was private. You were also supposed to wash up completely by the faucet between the bath and the changing hut before entering the bath. This turned out to be really neat and really difficult, as it doesn't take much imagination to see how petrifyingly cold dumping buckets of water over yourself in snowing weather would feel. But I really love water, and I loved loved being out there in the rotemburo.
On our second day in Minakmai it snowed, and sitting outdoors in hot, no-chemicals water watching the light snow cover the surrounding rocks was truly beautiful. We even saw a big snowy monkey skitter past us once.
The other delight besides onsen was the excellent food that the Tokushimas prepared (breakfast and dinner were included with the price of our stay). The first night we ate in the dining room with five other couples, one of which stuck around far after the plates had been cleared away, talking with us and Mr. and Mrs. Tokushima. Unfortunately this couple left the next day, but we did manage to have a nice talk with them. Of course, when I say "we" I really mean Hylton, as I spent all my energy trying to follow the conversation, letalone add anything to it. I have differing opinions on this kind of situation, but it was a nice evening, and the food was really really good.
On our second day we ate breakfast with all the other couples, who all ended up leaving that day. We spent the day mostly lazying around, in the rotemburo or reading in our room. We took another walk around the bit of the "city" we were in, which was mostly just a main street in the sense of a road passing through somewhere, not in the sense of a Main Street. From our room window we had a clear view of the mountains and the ski slopes, from which wafted a constant ethereal sound. Upon closer inspection we found that this sound was really just bad J-pop presumably played for the skiers. When heard from a short distance, however, it made you feel like you were in some fantasy video game.
For some inbetween breakfast-and-dinner food we went on a snowy walk to an udon place we had heard about the day previous. I was just in the market for some cheap filler noodles, but the place ended up being a little classier. They seemed kind of snooty (foreigners! ick!), but I think Hylton really did a number on them when he delivered a real zinger. He, in an attempt to give reason for only ordering a cup of coffee, was trying to say おなかがあまりすかない or "I'm not really hungry." Instead he ended up saying おなかがあまりすわない or, something most closely translatable as "I'm not really sucking my stomach." I don't think this looks as good in print. At least you get the idea.
At this same place I thought I was ordering かけ soba, which is basically "regular soba noodles." Instead I ordered (I think?) がき soba, which ended up being big hunks of wheat stuff in water. By the end I was in no doubt that I had gotten my carbohydrates for the day.
The Tokushimas, who incidentally have children the same age as Hylton and I
Hylton and I blowing out the candles on the strawberry shortcake
On our second night at Asanebou we were the only guests, so it wasn't difficult to spend most of the evening after dinner with the Tokushimas in their dining room, getting extra freebies like strawberry shortcake and mikan (mandarin oranges) from Kyushu. Again, I spent the majority of my time listening, but it was an interesting way to spend an evening. I got a little uptight when Hylton inevitably veered into talking politics, but they took it with stride, and Tokushima Mr. who had at first struck me as kind of gruff and brusque ended up proving his worldliness. Either that or they were just really polite, but as city folk-come-mountain folk they struck me as the latter.
The jokes from the days previous of us helping out in the yard actually became reality as Hylton, Tokushima san (Mr.) and I trudged out to the garden after breakfast on Christmas morning. [And sidenote, though Christmas does seem to be celebrated in Japan at least in the some parents give their kids a gift way, I never heard Christmas mentioned on the actual day.] We spent two hours bending hand shovels and freezing through our multi-layered gardening gloves. At the end of the morning, the three of us had planted some 500 bulbs under the earth and snow. We were rewarded with a free lunch and, hospitality of hospitalities, a car ride to our next destination: Takaragawa River onsen.
Rereading all of this, it really was such a nice little escape. It is easy to see why the Japanese, who are notoriously hard workers, hold onsen-going so dear.
More to come.
post-winter break
Hylton and I in Minakami, Gunma
It has proven very difficult to find the time to sit down and write an entry about my recent two weeks off from teaching. I don't really have the time now, as soon Hylton and I will heading to the home of one of the teachers I work with for a late lunch of sukiyaki. But I figured it'd be a start.
Winter break could be split into two groups. The first would be Hylton and I's short jaunt to Gunma prefecture for three days of onsen (hot springs), relaxation and good food.
Christmas Day 2008: planting tulips in the snow
The second segment of break was the week-long visit of Hylton's childhood friend Johnny. Unfortunately he got a bit sick in the middle of his stay, but I think he was able to get a good taste of Naruto and even our favorite megametropolis a couple of hours to the northwest.
Johnny (right) and Hylton at a temple in Naruto
I've been back at work for a week now, and am currently enjoying a much needed extra day off (thanks "Adults Day"!). Not much to report on that front, other than its a lot more fun not being in work.
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