Students Like Robbers Better Than Me

Tonight was the end-of-the-year enkai (dinner party) for my jr. high school. The 1st year (American 7th grade) teachers did all the planning, and they included a student survey quiz show as part of the entertainment. We, the staff, had to try to guess what the students, who had been previously surveyed, said were the "Besto Five" (that's Japanese-English pronunciation for "Best Five") things that happened at our school this year. #1 - 30th Anniversary Celebration, #2 - Culture Festival, #3 - Field Day, #5 - Mya came to our school. :) Wow! I couldn't believe it when I heard the quiz show MC say my name! But then when he opened the #5 game board window to reveal the answer, there it was in Japanese-- my name! Cool!

#4 was - Robbers broke into the school in the middle of the night.

I WAS BEAT OUT OF THE #4 SPOT BY VANDALS!!?? HAHA! I'm not sure which part I liked more-- the surprise and heartwarming feeling of actually making the list, OR the hilarity of being edged out of the #4 spot because, although students think that me coming to their school is amongst the Best 5 things that happened to them this year, they like the fact that vandals broke in better. ;D

Nice Color

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.

Crossword Puzzle of Names

During my very first week at my chu-gakko (jr. high) six months ago I asked all the English teachers if there was anything they needed help with or anything they wanted me to do. It was summer vacation for the kids, so there weren't any classes for me to teach or lessons to prepare. I was happy to read up on my new prefecture or study Japanese on my own-- and the English teachers hadn't given me any work-- but I figured I should at least offer to do something. All 3 of them seemed at a loss...like they didn't really have anything for me to do, but they felt like they should. So Fukuyama Sensei, the 7th grade teacher, said, "Learn the students' names." I sorta thought he was kidding, but I wanted to show that my offer to do something was sincere, so I said, "Do you have their pictures?" (because, remember, they're on summer vacation, so I haven't even met any students yet) Surprisingly, he said that they did have students' pictures...and he went to a shelf and pulled out a binder which contained all the the 7th grade students' photographs organized by homeroom. Really?! I don't know why, but it hadn't really ever occurred to me that I would learn the kids' names here. I mean, I guess it seemed sorta impossible, so I hadn't even thought of it. But now that my "Do you have their pictures?" challenge had been answered, I felt like I had to do it, and all at once I was eager to do it. What I didn't know was that what awaited me was a crossword puzzle of repeatedly intersecting names that sounded like all the same syllables rearranged in different orders-- Ichiro and Ryoichi, Takayuki and Yukitaka, Takehiro and Hirotaka-- or variations of the same syllable combinations-- Shyuhei and Shyohei and Shyojiro and Shyoya and Shyota and Kota and Ryota and Ryotaro and Kyotaro and Keitaro and Kentaro and Kensuke and Keisuke and Kosuke and Ryosuke and Ryusuke and Yusuke and Yuya and Ryuya and Fumiya and Toshifumi and Fumiaki and Akihiro and Fumihiro and Tomohiro and Masahiro and Masayuki and Kazuyuki. And then there are the girls...Ryoko and Yoko (whose difference is obvious on paper, but almost imperceptible to my ears which have been taught to hear English sounds, not Japanese sounds) and Yuko and Yuki and Miyuki and Hiromi and Aami and Ayumi and Miku and Miki and Saki and Natsuki and Nastumi and Sumika and Ayaka and Akane and Kana and Rina and Reina and Reiko and Rikako and Momoko and Momoka and Mone. WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!

It has been a challenge. I think people's names are important to them and it makes them feel important when you refer to them by name. I feel nervous when I can't remember if it's Kenta or Keita, or Ryuhei or Ryohei. I feel happy when a student who didn't know that I knew his name is surprised (sometimes a little shocked, even) and smiling to hear me call him by name.