Last week I received a package in the mail from Japan and was surprised and sooo excited when I saw that it was from one of my favorite people-- my former student and current friend, Pyongan. So excited! *Pyongan is funny, sincere, thoughtful, hardworking, determined, smart, engaging, and has a smile that lights up a room-- so full of life!* I opened the box, which contained a woven, hanging scroll style 2012 calendar. Cool! I looked further to find a letter. But there wasn't one. ?? I kept looking, thinking it might be in the bottom of the box or stuck to the inside. But no. There wasn't one. THEN, it hit me. I realized-- he couldn't send a letter, because that would have increased the postage by ￥1000. (= more than $11) This is true. The Japanese post office charges you for including a letter in a package. I am not making this up. This is not a joke. Although it did seem like a cruel joke every time I encountered it. I remember the first time. I was mailing a birthday present to Mia in the States. The lady at the post office weighed the box and told me that the postage would cost about ￥1300. Then she said, 'There's not a letter in here, right?' What?? Of course there's a letter in there! Who sends someone a package without a letter in it?! 'Um, yes, there is.' She recalculates the postage...and the new price shows up on the register...￥2285. WHAAAT?! Are you kidding me??!! You didn't ask me if this package contains flammables, liquids, weapons, or live animals! You asked me if it contained a letter! A 'yes' reply to that question increased the postage price (which is already insanely expensive) by ￥1000?!? I am shocked and going broke. What the heck? The charge is not for added weight. It is for a sheet of paper with a message written on it. Later, I asked my friend, Matsumura San, about this. Her daughter, Yumi, was in college in D.C., so I figured she had encountered the same thing. She told me that she never includes letters in the packages she sends to Yumi...she just writes a note to her on the inside flap of the box. Huh...that's creative. I make a mental note (which is free!) to do the same thing next time, or to just mail a letter in a separate envelope for ￥105. BUT.....I forgot!! I mean, you'd think I would remember because it was such a shocking and expensive experience...but, my whole life I've been including letters in packages, so it's just so natural [LOL!] that I completely space out the insane post office rule. So...once again, I'm asked if there's a letter in the box I'm mailing. AAAAAH! YES! ;\ Yes, there is. Okay, new plan-- because, really, I can't write a very long message on the inside flap of the box...Plus, Japanese stationary is so cool, it's a waste to never get to use it (もったいない)-- so, my idea is to not go anymore to that post office where they know me. I'll go to a different one and fake like I don't understand the question, hoping (and expecting) that they'll just give me the benefit of the doubt, finding me-- by language-incompetence-default-- 'not guilty' of including a letter in the present I'm mailing. This plan also fails. I am so angry about the pure stupidity of having to pay double postage for putting a letter in the package that I ask why? [LOL!] I just realized that to an American audience, it won't seem like asking, "Why?", is an event that would require getting riled up and over-the-top angry. :D BUT, in Japan, no one asks, "Why?" People just follow the rules. To ask is confrontational, and Japanese people don't do that. (in general) So, having me ask, 'Why does the postage increase so much if there's a letter in the package?' probably felt very unnerving to the postal clerks. The lady helping me, all of a sudden, looked very worried. She didn't answer my question...she just continued pushing keys on the computer, while it seemed that sweat would start to form on her brow. If there was a security call button under the counter, I'm sure she had her finger on it. Thankfully the police were probably busy dealing with more serious crimes like stolen laundry [more to come in my next post] so they didn't respond to the call for back-up to deal with the American girl at the post office asking, "Why?" I'm surprised, actually, that the clerks knew the answer...I can't imagine that they would have ever asked their 先輩 (more experienced co-workers) why they had to charge customers double price for a letter. It must have been written into their manual. The reason for the insane charge is: if there is a personal letter included in a package, the postal staff isn't allowed to open the package to inspect it-- out of respect for the privacy of the content of the letter; the package will instead have to be inspected by a machine, which is apparently more costly. "I don't care if you open the box and read my letter", I reply. Confrontational. I mean, I'm joking and smiling big, but this kind of rule-rebellion is no joking matter for Japanese employees...and I'm sure they don't think it's funny. And there's no chance that they will actually allow my box to be put into the ￥1000 less expensive, letter-not-included pile of packages to be searched by hand and risk someone reading my letter. UGH! SO FRUSTRATING!!! What makes it worse-- or just more annoying-- is that I forget this rule repeatedly (??!!), so every time I mail a package and am asked the question, I get caught totally off-guard...the horror shows on my face...so I can't even play it off like I don't understand or just say no. The post office is my least favorite place to go in Japan. By far. THEN, it gets worse. I know-- it seems like this would be the extent of torture that a service-oriented Japanese government agency could inflict on customers who want to share awesome Japanese goods with their friends and family overseas. But, things are not as they seem. Another day, at another post office, I asked the clerk to put postage on a postcard and mail it. I knew right away something was wrong when she took it behind the counter, pulled out a guidebook and ruler, and started discussing with two other postal clerks. I looked at my friend, Chris, not sure if I should crack up laughing or roll my eyes. What could it be?? Clearly there was some serious problem with mailing this post card if it required a 4-centimeter thick guidebook and consultation with multiple people. After a few minutes, the clerk returns to tell me that she can't mail the post card because it's not regulation size. It's 1 cm shorter than standard postcards. Small items cannot be mailed because they could get lost in the mail. She presents me with the following page which she kindly copied out of the guidebook for my future reference.
OhMyGosh. Are you kidding me? Of course not. I do realize that very small items have a greater chance of getting lost in the mail. And I can agree that there may need to be some standard regarding the size of items mailed. But we are talking about a post card that is A centimeter- ONE!- shorter than the standard! I'm not trying to mail a business card. I can't believe this is my real life. Everyone's real life in this country. I mean, I guess everyone doesn't encounter this because most people never try to mail something that's not regulation size. I take the acceptable-size-mail guidelines handbook photocopy and thank the clerk while trying not to bust out laughing as Chris and I exchange looks of disbelief. The next day I went to a different post office, bought a postcard stamp, put it on my postcard, and dropped it in the mailbox myself. やった! ;D Triumph over the system! LOL.
The rules in this country are truly hard to believe-- hard to believe what they are and how many there are. It's like the whole country (well, maybe mostly jr. high.....but not only jr. high!) is an altar boy boarding school. I'm not exaggerating. I mean if it wasn't my real life, I would not believe it. If I was reading this blog instead of writing it, I would definitely think it was just ridiculous. BUT, I hope that you will believe what you read, because it's true-- even though it's ridiculous.
Today I received the "Seasonal Change of Uniform" notice on my desk. Starting today, students are allowed to start transitioning from their winter uniforms to their spring/summer uniforms. This means that they can wear short sleeves if they want to, and girls don't have to wear their vests. This transition must be completed by June 13, meaning that after that date girls won't be allowed to wear vests anymore, and no one will be allowed to wear long sleeves. Even if we have cold weather. We've already had several days of weather in the high 70s, but no one was allowed to wear short sleeves because it wasn't one-week-before-June (i.e. May 23) yet. The acceptable uniforms are dictated by the typical weather patterns of the calendar, without regard for the actual weather conditions. Who thinks this makes sense? [NOTE: Short sleeve shirts and vests cannot be worn together. Vests are only permitted to be worn over long sleeve shirts.]
Other school rules include:
-No plucking or trimming your eyebrows. (This doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at school...It means you're not allowed to pluck or trim them at all-- not even at home.)
-Keep your fingernails clipped short. (Or else, you will be made to go to the staff room and clip them over the trash can before you can go back to class.)-Girls whose hair is longer than shoulder-length must tie it back with an elastic-- or two, but not three-- that is either brown, black, or navy blue.
-No clipping your hair in the front.
-No perming or straightening your hair.-No colored socks-- only white.
-During cold weather-- which according to the school calendar is Sept. 26-May 23-- if you wear a coat, gloves, or a scarf, they must be navy blue, black, gray, brown, or white.
-No bringing backpacks into the staff room.-No wearing sports team uniforms in the staff room.
-Girls may not wear pants, except for when wearing sports uniforms.
-Boys must button their Mandarin collar suit jackets up all the way to the top button (or not wear them at all). If you take your jacket off, you must also take your sweater off because sweaters are not allowed to be seen, even though they're allowed to be worn.
-P.E. uniform jackets must be zipped up all the way to the top (or not worn at all).
-No going into any classroom other than your own.
-No spending the night at a friend's house.
-No going to an arcade without parent supervision.
-No stickers or key chains on school bags or gym bags.
-No food of any kind is allowed to be brought to school. (You must persevere through the hunger (and pay attention in class) for the approximately 5 hours between when you eat breakfast around 7 or 8, have morning tennis, soccer, baseball, or volleyball practice...maybe have P.E. and when you eat lunch at 12:55.)
-Mints are also strictly forbidden.-Of course, no make-up, nail polish, or pierced ears.
-Even for teachers, there isn't supposed to be eating at school, other than lunch...Unless the food was given to you as a present from another staff member. [This loophole makes the whole rule even more incomprehensible.] **CONFESSION: I have actually snuck a Tupperware container of peanut butter toast into the bathroom at school and eaten it in the stall because I couldn't last the 6 hours between breakfast and lunch. WHAAAT?! Who does this?? This is my real life. This is my real life? This is my real life! OHmyGOSH. I'm always wishing that someone would bring back peanut butter toast for a staff room present.
I think there are many dozen more school rules, but many of them have become so commonplace to me now that I can't even remember them. OH! I almost forgot...There is a new school rule this year: Girls are not allowed to wear short socks. Of all the rules, this one brought the biggest surprise recently. I thought we already had every conceivable rule, but some teachers managed to think up another one! Aah, one more...this is an elementary school rule: (Are you ready for this?! I can almost not even write it without laughing out loud at the absurdity of it.) No putting your hands in your pockets. (If you do, teachers may use packing tape to seal your pockets shut.)
Outside of school there are innumerable societal expectations that regulate everyone's lives, even though they may not be written.
-Be quiet on trains.
-No eating or drinking on trains.
-No eating or drinking while walking.
-Water is mainly for washing, not drinking. You are allowed to drink water, but you will get questions and strange looks. And if you order it at Starbucks, they will give you a 2 oz. shot of water, which you will have already drunk by the time you walk to your table.-At staff dinner parties and other official functions, there is to be no drinking before the official "kampai" (cheers). Even if you're thirsty and there is a beverage in front of you, you may not take a sip.
-Women should not sit cross-legged when sitting on the floor in restaurants or homes. Sit in seiza. **NOTE from Wikipedia: "Those unfamiliar with seiza will likely find that maintaining it for more than a minute or two tends to lead to loss of circulation, with the accompanying 'pins and needles' feeling, followed by painful burning sensations, and then eventually complete numbness in the legs." Awesome.
-Wearing sunglasses is really, really unusual, so if you wear them, you will definitely get lots of comments about how cool you are and how you look like a Hollywood star. You will have to explain again and again and again how light-colored eyes are more sensitive to the sun...and contort your face to demonstrate how if you're not wearing sunglasses you have to squint when it's bright outside. All of this is just embarrassing. Especially because it's really frowned upon in this culture to draw attention to yourself. (As though you're wearing sunglasses in an attempt to draw attention to yourself and make everyone think you're ultra cool!) ;D
It's hard for me to recall all the rules and expectations that used to be news to me but now just seem normal. ;D The rules in Japan that make me the most crazy are the post office rules. They require an entry of their own. Stay tuned...
"Are you good at gluing?"
This is a real question asked to me by one of my JTEs (Japanese Teacher of English) this week. I offered to help her glue the covers onto the songbooks she had copied for the 9th grade teachers (including me! Yaaay!) to use when we sang at the Farewell Assembly for the 9th graders, who are graduating next week. I wanted to believe that this question was a joke.....but I didn't really think it was. Despite it being a serious question, I couldn't think of a serious way to respond. All I came up with was an out-loud-laugh and a sarcastic, "Yes, I'm an expert at it." ;D I mean, seriously!! Are you kidding me?!?! AM I GOOD AT GLUING??? Do you think I'm an idiot? Apparently. Do you have any idea about my life? I am a trained teacher. I moved halfway around the world by myself. I live in a foreign culture where everything is complicated and hard to understand. Do you have any idea what I did to get this job? I completed a quarter-inch thick application-- including essays, recommendation letters, transcripts, fingerprints, a background check by the FBI-- in triplicate. I was interviewed intensely by a panel at the Japanese consulate who asked me everything from how I feel about women's rights...and how I'd feel about being asked to serve tea...to how I'd adjust to the role of assisting teachers in their classrooms when I was accustomed to being an independent teacher in my own classroom...how I'd introduce myself to students in simple English...and how I'd explain American foreign policy to Japanese high school students with limited English ability. I was all of a sudden confronted with one of the interviewers speaking Japanese to me-- Japanese that I didn't understand. But nowhere in that insanely long screening and selection process was I ever asked, "Are you good at gluing?"
Like I mentioned in my previous post, this experience in Japan has helped me recognize my own culture. And I think it is actually one of the best things about this whole experience-- partly because it was so unexpected...and partly because this overarching knowledge will affect the rest of my life. I mean, I came to Japan expecting to learn about Japanese culture and Japanese people's ways of doing things, but it has come as a really big surprise to me that I've learned so much about American culture and myself. A great surprise! =)
And in the case of Ms. AreYouGoodAtGluing-- a terrible surprise. ;[ This is a teacher who is an eXtReMe perfectionist. (Except of course when it comes to creating worksheets with awkward and wrong English and THEN asking me to check them 5 minutes before class, and when I point out 2 or 3 of the several English problems, responding with, "Well, I've already copied them, so I can't change it." When I dare to point out one more serious error that shouldn't be presented to students on a worksheet, she says, defensively, "Okay, that's enough.") Anyways, back to the point. This is a teacher who thinks that her way of doing things is the right way and that no one else can do as good of a job as her. So even if I am good at gluing, if it's not her way of gluing, it's not acceptable. We recently started a point card system where kids can earn stamps on their point card if they answer questions in class or initiate English conversation outside of class. She was really reluctant to allow me to stamp kids' cards instead of telling her who initiated English conversation so she could stamp their cards. Sometimes I do stamp their cards, but if she's around I'm a bit nervous about it. (!!!) Tolerating such condescending, micromanaging, I-can't-trust-you-with-anything treatment from her for the past 2 years has been terrible! Being a semi-perfectionist, like-to-have-things-done-my-way, excessively-attentive-to-inconsequential-details-person myself, I can relate to this teacher. THIS is terrible...to realize that I have been guilty of making other people feel as terrible as she makes me feel. UGH!! Working with her and being on the other side of the situation has been like a mirror reflecting the light back to the base of my light house (see post from Feb. 9). It makes me want to abandon my tendency toward very specific expectations and give people the trust and freedom to do things their way, even if it's not my way. Even though I REALLY like details to be attended to in certain ways ;D I REALLY, REALLY never want to make anyone feel like this perfectionist makes me feel. Although this isn't a lesson in American culture, it is a valuable lesson about myself...and I'm thankful for the experience.
Here's yet another "Are you kidding me?!" moment.
'What is this?', you may ask, 'An empty pack of gum taped to a piece of paper?!'
Yes!
But a closer look will reveal that this display of an empty pack of gum taped to a piece of paper is actually something more. It is evidence and documentation of a flagrant violation. For this is not just any gum package. It's a gum package that was found on school property. *The audience gasps.* This could only mean one thing-- a student brought gum to school. The currently known facts are scrawled: On February 5th (Friday), attached gum package was found during cleaning time. Location: 7th grade hallway, near the entrance to the gym. At this time, no further details are known.
In an unexpected turn of events during the morning staff meeting, in between Kouchou Sensei's (the principal) entirely predictable speech about nothing and Hoshino Sensei's blurb about the intranet training for teachers, "Exhibit A" was held up for public viewing and notification. In a simultaneously serious and exasperated tone, the details were disseminated, and we were all cautioned to be on the lookout for other such contraband. It was then posted in the staff room for all to see...and be reminded. (Note: Lest you be misled by the drama of this scenario, I want to reassure you that no weapons, drugs, or cigarettes were involved. The only one who's been found with cigarettes at school is Kouchou Sensei, and it's no secret where he is-- in the alley next to the gym.)
Despite its prominent display, I had to wait a long time to get a photo of this evidence and accompanying documentation. It was posted next to the desk of the double agent-- teacher-by-day, Yakuza-by-night-- Zakamatsu Sensei, who is apparently in charge of rule violation notification at my school. And undoubtedly, taking such a photo is against some unwritten rule. So, I considered, and plotted, and waited, and weighed the risks, and on a Monday afternoon when the staff room was nearly empty, thanks to all the real teachers being in the weekly staff meeting, and while the librarian and building manager distracted each other with chatting in the opposite corner of the room, I went for it! Thus, I present for your shock and awe: Exhibit A.
I have learned about so many aspects of communication this year. The "Communicator" IB (International Baccalaureate) Profile card that used to hang in my classroom flashes in my memory time and time again. I keep thinking that I will be a better IB teacher or any teacher after this time in Japan. I guess, though, the point of the IB Profile of Communicator is to develop not teachers who can teach communication, but people who can communicate...which is something I can do better than I did a year ago.
Lessons:
#1. If+I+want+your+help+I+will+tell+you. does not equal "If I want your help I will tell you."
I was SO shocked when one of the English teachers gave this reply when I offered to help her with a project that was keeping her busy. After about an hour of replaying the scene in my mind and trying to process my feelings-- of shock, hurt, annoyance-- I suddenly realized that to a non-native speaker of English, those words mean just what they say...that if she wanted my help.....she'd tell me. To native speakers-- in this case, me-- that sentence means more than the sum total of its parts. It means, "I DON'T want or need your help!! Back off!" Languages are tough.
#2. To communicate in Japanese I have to use more than Japanese words. I have to use a Japanese mind.
When I ask a Starbucks employee if they have Chai Cream Frappuchinos, and she responds by saying that they have Chai Tea Lattes...and then I say (using Japanese words), "So you don't have them?", forcing her to clarify by saying, "No", I am not speaking Japanese. I am using Japanese words to speak English, which is direct-- and entirely un-Japanese-- and which coerces a Japanese service industry employee into saying "No"-- which is even less Japanese.
#2b. To speak a foreign language, you can't just think of what you want to say in your own language and translate it into the same words in the foreign language and then say them.
When people say, "Thank you" to me I often reply with, "Of course!" If someone thanks me in Japanese, and I reply with the Japanese word for "of course", I sound dumb. Correspondingly, if Japanese people in America directly translated the Japanese words they want to say into English words, we'd have people walking into my American elementary school greeting Shannon and Nancy by saying, "I am under your care." Whaaaat?! That's crazy talk! "I am under your care??!!" What does that even mean?!
#4. It is impossible to understand Japanese people better by intently watching their lips.
If I'm having trouble hearing someone who's speaking English in a quiet voice or trouble understanding someone who speaks Engish with a think Irish accent, I can improve my comprehension by watching and semi-reading their lips. This does NOT work in Japanese. It is unnecessary and even strange to move your mouth much when speaking Japanese.
#5. Personality is largely expressed through communication.
Before this year I think I would have said that "personality" is how someone acts. Not being able to easily communicate with people around me-- because my Japanese skills are rudimentary, as are their English skills-- has produced a quieter version of Mya. It's a Mya who doesn't feel like the real me, a me who feels trapped in a personality that is not my own-- a quiet, non-joking, non-friendly Mya. Which really isn't a Mya at all. It's hard to be me when I can't communicate with words.
Regarding my previous post:
I should point out that drinking water with lunch isn't inherently strange in Japan. It was only strange for me to be drinking water because everyone else drinks milk with school lunch. And in Japan it is strange to do something different than what everyone else is doing.
I don't get it. Today when I was eating lunch with a class of 9th graders, Kenta turned around from his desk, gave me strange look...with his nose sorta upturned like he was appalled at what he saw, and said scoffingly, "Mya. Water??" Oh, THAT'S what that look is for? My water bottle?! A little chuckle escapes from my mouth, and then I matter-of-factly reply, "Yes", as though it's the most normal thing in the world to drink water with lunch. BECAUSE IT IS! IT IS normal to drink water with lunch! But Kenta doesn't think so. To my calm, "Yes", he retorts, "Why?!" and again makes that face of disgust. OhMyGosh! Are you kidding me? This is a conversation?! I mean, it's really something that elicits questions and emotion? It's a bottle that I filled with tap water to drink because I like water and water is healthy and it's a hot, muggy day so I don't feel like drinking milk for lunch...eewww. I don't really know what to say to his emotionally-charged "Why?!" that sounds like how you'd say "Why?!" if your skinniest friend told you she was going on a diet, so I just say, "I like water." And Kenta says, "Oh", in his slightly rising-intonation Kenta-thinks-you're-dumb-but-he's-too-nice-to-say-it OR Kenta-doesn't-understand-the-English-words-you-just-used voice. Kenta understands the English words, "I like water." Kenta doesn't get why I'm drinking water. He probably attributes it to my gaijin-ness (foreign-ness) and is trying to be open-minded to such a bizarre custom as I have just introduced him to. The fact that Kenta initiated this conversation means that probably all 36 other kids and the homeroom teacher of class 3-3 were thinking the same thing. I talk and laugh with Kenta and his friends all the time...so he's comfortable enough with me to say what he's actually thinking about this situation (and yes, this is a "situation")...whereas the shy boys who aren't confident of their English ability and the sweet girls won't be honest with me about what they think is strange about me. But Kenta's response tells me that they think this is strange.
Well, I'll tell YOU (and by "YOU", I mean Japanese teachers and students) what I think is strange. I think it's strange that you clean out your nose with a Q-tip while sitting at your desk in the staff room. I think it's strange that you eat donuts with chopsticks. (I know, I know! You think it's strange that I pick mine up with my fingers. Thank you teachers for not gawking too much when I do this during lunch. Next time donuts are on the lunch menu, I'll make sure to eat with Kenta's class so I can find out what you're really thinking.) I'll tell you what I think is strange. I think it's strange that you have conversations with each other-- teachers to students-- while you are brushing your teeth in the staffroom and have toothpaste coming out the sides of your mouth. I think it's strange that in preparation for field day, you have a school-wide event to pick up pebbles and trash from the playground.....two weeks before field day.....in the prefecture that is famous in Japan for its strong wind. This is really 3 strange things in 1. Let me clarify this strange event that we had: #1. More than 300 students and teachers go outside and scour the ground for any pieces of rock that are larger than a baby ladybug, and then collect said baby ladybug-sized pebbles in buckets to be removed from the playground. This will keep people safe. ?? #2. It's two weeks before field day. I think that more unsafe obstructions will find their way onto the playground before field day occurs. #3. Gunma is the windiest place in Japan. More pebbles and litter will undoubtedly find their way to the playground in the following two weeks. Okay next. I think it's strange that you take off your shoes and socks and sit barefoot while you grade papers at your desk in the staffroom. I think it's strange that you are in 9th grade and you are embarrassed for anyone to know who your boyfriend or girlfriend is. I think it's strange that the day before field day you have a school-wide rehearsal for the warm-up exercises that you will do on field day. You aren't actually warming up for any physical activity; you're just practicing for the warm-up exercises that you will do tomorrow when you do actually do physical activity. And you aren't practicing for actual field day events that you will compete in; you're just practicing warming up. Really, it is helpful to practice stretching and jumping jacks? I think it's strange that at every assembly one person uses a microphone to announce that someone will come to the microphone now to say something...why doesn't that person just go up to the microphone and say what he needs to say? Why do you need to tell everyone that he is going to tell us something now? I think it's strange that sometimes when the person who is going to tell us something finishes telling us and then leaves the stage, and then you (okay, we!) all bow, and then someone will announce that the same person is going to say something and then that person goes back up to the stage and we all bow and she says something that is on a different topic than the previous time she was on stage ("previous time"=90 seconds ago; that's how long it takes her to exit the stage and for you to announce she is going to say something and for her to reascend those steps and make it back to the microphone). I'm just telling you what I think is strange, but I realize you probably won't take it very seriously since it's coming from the strange teacher who drinks water at lunch.
あいかわらず, I have about a million things to write about, but not that much time or energy. So, here are just a few memorable moments that occurred recently...
1. Today a new Social Studies teacher came to my school. He is very handsome. :) But very young.
2. Arai Sensei teared up and took off his glasses when he read the Good-Bye/This-Is-How-Much-I-Like-You/These-Are-Some-of-my-Favorite-Memories-with-You card I gave to him on Tuesday, which was his last day at our school. I was watching him from 3 desks away. Then I teared up too.
3. Suzuki Sensei, who I haven't had that many chances to talk to, surprisingly brought me omiyage (a present) back from his trip to Kyoto last weekend.
4. My supervisor at the kyoiku-inkai (Board of Education) ended the meeting of all Takasaki City jr. high and elementary ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers) yesterday by saying-- in his cute past-middle-age Japanese man way-- "And never do the drugs, ne." ("ne" is like ending a sentence with "okay?" or "right?") HAHA! He laughed and so did we. It was the best punchline of any meeting I can remember.
5. On Sunday, my friend Mischa and I went to a tea ceremony exhibition that my kyoto sensei (assistant principal) had invited us to. During two back-to-back tea ceremonies and while waiting in line for one of them-- about a total of an hour-- we had to sit in seiza. Please go to Wikipedia and search for seiza. You will find that it sounds like a kind of torture. (And in fact, I have heard that it was previously used sometimes as punishment in Japanese schools). At the conclusion of the 2nd tea ceremony, 18 people stood up and bowed and thanked the hosts and merrily went on their way; 2 people, namely Mischa and Mya, were on their hands and knees in utter disbelief that it had become physically impossible for them to stand up again. With red faces, and eyes wide with panic, we looked at each other and laughed while repeating, "I can't get up....Oh my gosh, what are we gonna do?" Meanwhile the next 20 guests waited outside the door elegantly in their kimonos and chuckled at us.
What number am I on? 6. Okay, probably the last for today. Recently I have been in several situations where I've had to eat seafood...A LOT of seafood. Raw and cooked. And I have eaten it. Not all, but A LOT. And I didn't throw up, so that was nice.
7. Aaah! There's so much to say! The plum blossoms are out. The cherry blossoms are just beginning, and there is much excitement as we anticipate their full bloom...which could be any day now. The honeysuckle trees I smell here and there as I ride my bike take my breath away. Their scent thrills me! Spring in Japan!
Okay, before I think of an 8, I'm going to post this!
Wednesday when I walked into first period, one of my JTEs (Japanese Teacher of English) said: "nice color!", referring to my scarf. What she really meant: "You're not allowed to wear a scarf to class." aaagh! I can see why there are so many weird foreigners here!!! Japan makes foreigners act weird... The vast, VAST difference between communication styles and human interactions/relationships here versus in Western countries screws with your thinking and your sense of normality. It's so disorienting. I just want to be myself, but everyday I face situations where I'm not myself, or I have to wrestle internally to be myself. It's bizarre. This depresses me. ...for a couple reasons...one, I don't want to be one of those annoying and socially awkward foreigners in Japan, and two, I want to be able to live here for a substantial amount of time (I don't know what "substantial" means at this point...but at least a couple years, huh?) and be real, be normal, be me. I can't last here if I'm always mentally and emotionally struggling with being NOTICEABLY different-- being a foreigner. Comments like "nice color" make me so paranoid.....does anyone really mean what they say here? Does anyone say what they really mean? Being visible at all times creates a strange dynamic. I sometimes feel like I'm being stared at.....but then that just seems self-centered, to go around assuming that people are looking at you. Weekly though, students and other people I meet comment on my looks, "Your hair is like yaki soba. We're having yaki soba for lunch today.", "Your hair is NATURALLY curly??! Urayamashi! [I'm envious.], "Are you wearing contacts? Colored contacts?", "Are your eyelashes real? They're so long.", "You have a really high nose"--(which to an American is not a compliment, and I really didn't know what to say when this comment was made...but it was followed up with the statement that Japanese people like high noses better than their own, typically more flat noses).....As I was saying, I hate having a self-centered attitude, thinking that people are always staring at me...but frequent comments such as these consistently remind me that I don't blend in in this predominately racially homogeneous population. Sometimes I move beyond this and subconsciously think that I blend in, and then 4 seconds later I will hear someone shout "Hello!" to me, and when I look to see who it is, I discover it's a stranger-- someone I've never seen in my life. 'Why are random high school students shouting "Hello" to me as I pass by on my bike?', I wonder. I then realize it's because they notice I'm white and presume I speak English. Or one of my friends will come up behind me as I'm running on the elliptical machine at the gym and say, "It's so easy to spot you in the row of people working out." Being the only non-Asian, non-dark-haired person in an ice skating rink a couple weekends ago was a really strange feeling...just being in a contained room where everyone was either skating around in circles with nothing in particular to look at or sitting in the bleachers watching everyone else skate around in circles...I was so obvious. The other night I was riding my bike home from the gym in the dark, and I had my hood on and my hair tucked into it. A couple boys (who I don't know) said, "Hello", as they approached me. Whaaaat?! How could they possibly tell that I was not Japanese? It was dark and I was wearing a hood! I'm so baffled by this. Anyways, being so conspicuous makes me very aware of my actions. When I drink water while walking down the street, I'm noticed. When I eat an un-cut apple outside the train station, I'm noticed. When I wear a scarf at school, I'm noticed. I guess anyone doing these unorthodox (ha! LOL!) things here would be noticed...but at home I would never be detected for doing these things--not only because no one cares if you drink while walking, eat un-cut apples, or wear a scarf...but also because I look similar to many other people. Receiving a compliment as an attempt to indirectly draw my attention to what everyone else has apparently already noted-- I'm wearing a scarf-- makes me so concerned about what other seemingly normal and presumably unnoticeable things I do that are actually glaringly obvious scenarios in which I'm going against the rules and cultural norms here.
