Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Oh, Christmas Tree!

I'm staying in Japan for Christmas this year. I'm going to miss family, friends, and delicious food that simply can't be replicated despite my best efforts (au gratin potatoes, for one). However, being away from home for the holidays has some perks.

Packages!

My family has sent two packages full of presents that are now over-taking my tiny tree. This makes me very happy.


In the second package there was a present that had "Open B/4 Christmas" on it. This made me very very happy.

I thought I'd document the occasion so my family could see my excitement. Also because I don't have much else to do with my time but that's really besides the points, isn't it?












Thursday, December 10, 2009

Indeed! Culture Shock

Before coming to Japan I went through several orientations and half-dutifully read materials the JET Programme prepared for us. A lot of the information was on dealing with culture-shock.
Culture-shock is a bit of a strange word, isn't it? I can't say I feel shocked by Japanese culture; this is a first-world nation with the second largest economy in the world. It's different but not shocking. Living abroad has tired me out sometimes but other times it's made me feel very alive and happy.

Today, however, I can legitimately say I am facing culture shock.

For the last two years at my school (I've been here about a year and half) there's been a part-time PE teacher working here. She never leaves before I do and is always here before I am so I didn't know until yesterday that she was a part-time teacher. She's been here while the full-time teacher takes a leave of absence to care for her sick father.

The sick father died two days ago. Yesterday was the funeral. Today is the part-time teacher's last day and tomorrow the woman who's father died two days ago with start working again. They don't know where they'll send the part-time teacher but presumably she'll have a job relatively soon. She spent today cleaning out her desk in between teaching classes.

We spent today smiling and joking and complaining about the cold together like we do any other day. But come Monday (when we have her farewell ceremony) most of us will not see much of her. (Teachers work until about 9pm every weeknight and have coaching duties most Saturdays and Sundays leaving little time to socialize outside of work).

In Japan, teachers move around constantly. One of the English teachers I work with was amazed that she was able to stay on at our school for another year. This is her second year here. She's been a teacher for five years and has worked at 3 different schools. Abrupt moving and massive change is not uncommon to the Japanese school system but rather the practiced norm.

It has it's benefits. New teachers get a lot of exposure and learn quickly from a lot of mentors. Seasoned teachers get moved to a variety of schools where their experience can benefit their coworkers as well as their students. Teachers become attached to their job of educating students rather than to a particular school.

I don't think I'd deal with the uncertainty well (at my school the changes were announced on the last day of the school year and the teachers who were getting moved cleaned out their desks and tied up loose ends over spring break). But I can appreciate the practice.

This, however, seems weird, unnecessary and unnatural. It seems that on the third day it's time to get back to work in Japan.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Little Spoken But Much Shared

I am the only adviser for Pen-Pal Club at my junior high school. This is unusual since I'm not a real teacher after all. My supervisor left at the end of summer break to take care of her sick mother. We were advisers together.

Now it's just me.

I actually wasn't anticipating Pen-Pal Club to continue. Both us and Computer Club have shockingly small numbers for being part of a junior high school of about 500 students. While most clubs (sports, music, student council, art) have a few dozen at least. Badminton Club is bursting with almost 100 kids. Both Computer and Pen-Pal Club Club have about five members each, on a good day. Consistently we had four members, three girls and one boy. The girls split their time between Tea Ceremony, ikebana (flower arrangement), and Drama Club and could only attend a couple times a month. We meet on Thursdays.

Morikage is the family name of the only boy member of Pen-Pal Club. The teachers call him Morikage-kun (an ending that either implies the person is young or close to you). So do I.

Morikage-kun is a member of Judo Club as well. He doesn't particularly like judo. But his mom wants him to be active and so judo is his compromise so that he can come on Thursdays and spend an hour after school writing emails in English to people across the world.

Since my supervisor left I assumed the kids would call Pen-Pal club quits. At least until we got another adviser. None of the girls have come since before summer break. But every week I got to Pen-Pal Club because every week Morikage-kun comes to staffroom and asks for Claire Sensei.

In Japan, if one student wants to participate in a club it's enough of a reason for the club to exist.

Morikage-kun is a shy first year student. He doesn't know much English and isn't a very dedicated student during English lesson. I usually spot him drawing very impressive scenes from his favorite anime on his desk. I never tell him to stop because they're really good drawings. And because I like him.

So we don't talk much. I ask how he is in Japanese. He smiles and says fine. He helps me unlock the door and disable the security system in the computer lab. He always stands next to me as I enable it again after Pen-Pal Club is finished. The directions are in Japanese and his careful attention has helped things to not go terribly awry.

I can't give him much feedback and since he's shy he doesn't ask for what little I can give. But he comes every week. And as we part company half-way down the hallway, he smiles brightly and says, "Good-bye. Thank you."

We don't speak much, but we've shared a lot these last couple of months.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

A Simple Day

In Japan, I live a very simple life. I travel a lot and see beautiful things and meet interesting people. But that's on the weekends. Most of time in Japan has been spent very simply.

As the long chill of winter is beginning to set in there are still things to look forward to. Simple things. Hot milk tea in the middle of my day during a free period. I enjoyed two cups today (I had a lot of free periods).

After work I went to the 100 yen shop (think: dollar store), the grocery store, and the drug store. I bought props for my Halloween lesson, dinner, and drain unclogger stuff.

I came home and successfully unclogged my bathroom sink drain that's been clogged for maybe 5 months. Now that, wow, that was exciting. Truly. It made me so happy I forgot about the 20 minute trip to the drug store as I searched for what I needed, not knowing the term in Japanese or any brands to be on the lookout for.

I tacked my pre- and post-run stretching routine to my wall. I've been having some trouble with my lower back and I think a healthy dose of stretching might be the answer.

And then I made dinner. Taco salad.

It's 9:33pm on Tuesday. I will turn on some music real low, open up a book about writing (On Writing Well) and then I will fall asleep. Hopefully to wake up and exercise but it's just as likely I'll sleep until the last possible minute and run out of door, pumping my sweet sweet bike as fast as my legs allow.

A simple day, like the ones before it and the ones ahead of it. My simple life.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Watergate in 2009

One year in Japan turned into two. It will not turn into three.

So what now?

I studied English Writing in college, wrote for and then became the Editor-in-Chief of the newspaper there, with the intention of writing for a newspaper one day. (To be honest, no one else wanted to be EiC and so I fell into the position as opposed to fighting for the spot like most other EiCs do. It was still a crazy amount of work and all that jazz. Just sayin. Truth is truth).

But they tell me newspapers are dying. My own beloved Chicago Tribune, the paper I grew-up watching my parents read as I flipped through the comics (skipping Calvin and Hobbes half the time because there were too many words) has been bought up and renovated, to resemble--I assume--a less prestigious form of USA Today.

I'm idealistic, though. I'm a child of the 90's. I don't know economic hardship or world wars or presidential assassinations or the break-up of the Beatles. I know Popples and college education and a car and license at 17 and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the absurd impeachment of a president and the absurd re-election of another (ok, wasn't actually a child for G. W. Part II, but I couldn't resist the parallelism).

My parents raised me on the belief that TV rots your brain but I guess decided it was too cruel to ban the whole thing altogether. Yet, despite the one-hour-a-day-except-on-special-occasions regimen I was on, I would have to say media is one of the greatest sources of inspiration in my life. Specifically movies.

In journalism class during the second year of college we spent a class watching most of "All The President's Men." Not getting to finish the movie (and knowing only the vaguest bits about the scandal that changed American politics and journalism forever) I rented the movie and watched it with my roommate.

It was inspiring. When deadlines bogged me down or budgets didn't line up again threatening printing, I would recall the tenacity of Woodward and Bernstein, the ups and downs, and I was able to press (HaHaHaHa) on. And even though I knew the world journalism was getting a bit more complicated, the energy in the story, in the newsroom, captivated me.

What what the Watergate of 2009? Where's my contemporary inspiration gonna come from?

I just finished watching State of Play a couple hours ago. Starring Russel Crowe and Ben Affleck, it's a story about political scandal surrounding the mysterious death of a Senator's mistress just as said Senator is in the process of conducting hearings regarding allegations of misconduct and extortion by a corporation responsible for sending military contractors to Iraq and Afghanistan.

SPOILER ALERT! read further at your own discretion....


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Ok. So this whole complicated, inter-connected story is handled by a veteran journalist played by Crowe and the unlikely side-kick of a blogger for the news paper played by Rachel Adams.

A fascinating story involving the conflict of capitalism and a war effort, public and private lives of politicians, and print vs new media, not to mention how trustworthy friendships become when power is inserted into the mix and perhaps even a slight rebuke against the military and how it handles discharged soldiers. The Senator ends up in the middle of the scandal as a key, though wholly indirect, player in the murder of his mistress as well as clearly having manipulated his friend, the veteran journalist, to tell the story with e favorable bent toward the Senator. In the end, blogger chick smiles to the veteran and says that this story is so big that people should read with with print between there fingers.

Victory for old journalism despite changes in ownership and form as well as for truth and justice in the land of the free and home of the brave. Take that!

Meanwhile in the reality, we're still in Iraq and Afghanistan as the causalities mount. The contractors haven't been rooted out or held accountable in any real way for the lives they've put at risk. Rupert Murdoch owns all of our souls if we watch TV news. Print news can't get it catchy enough and online news can't get it relevant enough, leaving a huge information gap that MTV is all too happy to fill up with utter and addicting garbage.

Like only Hollywood can deliver, it was an intense thriller tied to current events with a melancholy, though chummy ending that left you feeling that "it" (whatever that means to you) was getting taken care of by someone out there.

Devoid of a real enough connection to current events (namely, victories for print journalism or truth and justice), it was simply an entertaining movie. No real meat to it, I suppose.

Though it's got me thinking. And writing. And planning my next step that won't be in Japan.

So maybe like Obama's Nobel Peace Prize, this movie serves as an inspiration for action in the direction I was heading even if it isn't--in itself--connected to anything substantial.

Maybe the point is there is no Watergate in 2009. There is no one big issue. There are hundreds. It's our move. To not tune out. To take small bites and plan our next steps, in faith.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Dear IRS...

Dear IRS,

Thank you for my rebate check.

After months of nervously anticipating having to do my taxes from overseas and then days of pouring over forms hoping I was doing SOMETHING right (or at least right enough) it's nice to reap an unexpected, if small, reward.

Now I will promptly send my check back to the States where you sent it from days ago so that it can actually be deposited into my bank.

It's the thought that counts, though.

Sincerely,
Claire Brakel

Monday, September 28, 2009

Summer is Over...?

Despite having a full six weeks without classes from mid-July until the end of August, I seem to have lost any ability to engage in anything terribly productive. To be fair, I have started running (in preparation to run the Chicago Marathon in 2010 with my college roommate) and chronicling the experience. But even so, that only accounts for a handful of hours. The rest have simply fallen through my fingertips and I find myself in the midst of school in full-swing feeling like I'm barely keeping up.

So I thought a brief recap of my natsuyasumi (summer vacation) was in order. Hopefully it'll help justify my two month absence but I doubt it. This came to mind today at school as I thought to myself, "How is it still this hot?!" These past couple weeks we've been pushing 30 degrees Celsius. But it's not the heat that's wearing me down (it's almost October!); it's the humidity. This is what I'm living in: after school I went to the 100 yen shop (equivalent to the dollar store in the States). I picked up a few things including a box of chips. I ate half the chips before dinner (oops) and then finished the rest off a few hours later. In the interim 3 hours between opening the package and then finishing them off, my chips went stale. It's that humid.

So, although the calendar and my school schedule seems to point to summer being over, Mother Nature isn't convinced.

The summer began with farewells and welcomes, as August is the changeover for JETs. It was a mix of sadness and excitement since I had to say goodbye to some very good friends but also have had the chance to meet some new and very amazing new JETs. There's an oddly strong and yet somewhat distant bond between us ALTs.

We are throw out of our comfort zone so completely, all our vulnerability left hanging out as we struggle to understand the world we've landed in and our place in it. This kind of vulnerability creates very deep bonds between people. And yet there is a temporary feeling to our time, our lives here. Japan, for most of us, is just s stop along the way and in a couple years time we'll be back in our home countries. This creates that distance between us.

At the beginning of last year I met all the English teachers I'd be assisting in the classroom. One teacher in particular I could tell I'd get along well with. But I also remember telling a friend that I'd probably become friends with her just in time to leave Japan since life in school is so structured and there's no real time for forming friendships. She's also one of the kendo coaches. So anytime not spent int he classroom is spent in practice with the kendo club.

However. This summer the students were busy with a volunteering activity one Saturday and so there was no kendo practice. My teacher invited me to her house (she lives with her parents) to eat lunch and try on yukata (the summer kimono). Her parents were lovely; her mom made a delicious lunch and her dad was the official photographer. I was able to practice my Japanese since both her parents had only a little English-speaking ability.

I accidentally mixed up the words for brother and father and told her mom that my brother is over fifty (she paused for a moment and then with a quick laugh emphasized the words more clearly so that I could correct myself). Just to be honest, they're about as similar in Japanese as they are in English.

I spent two weeks back home, seeing both sets of grandparents, catching a Cubs game, and visiting a couple dear friends from college. A break well worth the long flights.

Then it was back to Okayama to prepare presentations for the new JETs' orientation week. It was nice to have something to do at school for a change. During natsuyasumi we don't have classes but school, for all intents and purposes, is still in session. Teachers and students come into school to participate in club meetings and sports practices. They prepare for Sports Day. And the rest I haven't quite worked out. And yet we all come in and look busy.

I read books, checked email, visited the school library, went home for lunch (doing some chores in the meantime) and chatted with teachers. I had weekly Japanese/English conversations with one of the English teachers who wants to practice her English. We'd come up with a topic and then she'd talk to me in English and I'd ask her questions and then it'd be my turn and I'd talk in Japanese, struggling to be understood and all-around kind of failing at the language. It was great practice. In Japanese and humility.

And the it was time for summer to owari (end) and get back to teaching. My days at Oku JHS have been much busier. My supervisor has taken a leave of absence to take care of her sick mother so I am filling in as much as I can for her classes with the other English teacher who now has to teach classes of 40 instead of 20.

There's a time for everything and though summer can be a bit boring at school, it is a nice break from the hectic school schedule. I wasn't able to appreciate the break as much last year since I had just arrived and the informality of natsuyasumi confused me. It still does but I try to just go with it these days. When in Rome.

Give it about another month and my posts will be absorbed with descriptions of how terribly cold it is. For now, though, chips last less than three hours if left out of their packaging.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Hearth and Home in Rural Japan

The rainy season has lifted and with it so has the occasional cool that torrential downpours brings. Now, it`s just hot.

mushi atsui means humid & hot in Japanese. When asked if Chicago is as hot as Japan I usually respond it is but that Japan is much more mushi. Because it is.

The rainy season not only provided much-appreciated cool breezes, it also woke up my yard. More accurately, it woke up the weeds in my yard.

I came to Japan in August of last year (almost my one year anniversary!). By that time the growing season was over and I had a yard scorched by the summer heat. I assumed the soil just didn`t grow plants well. I was wrong. For a month or so I lived in a jungle.

kusakari means to mow your lawn in Japanese. I know this because a couple junior high school students lost their ball in my yard one day after school and informed me that I needed to kusakari.

The task was daunting.

But when 13 year old boys recognize you have a messy yard, something has to be done.

I pulled weeds and cut weeds that were too big to pull and trimmed my tree that grows out into the street.

Well. Chalk taking care of a yard up as another reason I never want to own a house. It`s never-ending. Having weeded my yard two weeks ago it looks exactly like it did before I touched it.

Beggars can`t be choosers and so I am thankful for my beautiful house, but weeding my yard on mushi atsui weekends is not one of my favorite things to do in rural in Japan.

The advent of summer has brought more than just weeds to my humble home. So far I`ve had nothing short of an invasion at my doorsteps. There`s an ant colony outside my sliding glass doors, a wasp nest in the tree that needs trimming, and no less than six cockroaches have been kind enough to keep me company (four didn`t make it out alive but I may get a re-visit from the two that scampered away).

What with bugs and weeds and a lack of central air conditioning in my home I was beginning to feel a little down about my life in the inaka. I was pretty sure that whatever gaman (perseverance, force of will) I had left wasn`t enough to last me through too many more nightly fumigation rituals or morning trudges through my own personal jungle land.

But that`s the thing about rural (inaka) Japan, anyone could be your neighbor, at any regular moment on any ordinary day you can get a breath of fresh air.

For 4th of July I had a barbecue complete with a charcoal grill and red, white & blue cups and plates. A few friends stopped by and we tried to light our charcoal. Unsuccessfully. A middle-aged man walked into my driveway where the grill debacle was taking place, smiled and said konbanwa, good evening/hello.

Muttering something in Japanese that none of us knew, he came back shortly with cardboard and soon we were grilling kabobs and hot dogs and an incredible assortment of vegetables. "You`re an English teacher," our fire-starter asked in Japanese. We all are, I replied. "I`ve seen you on the train," he smiled.

Miki lives in the last house on my street. She is 24 years old. She`s dating an English teacher from Britain. We`ve rode the last train together from time to time. I always notice it because at ten past midnight it`s only our footsteps and the frogs in the rice fields making noise in my little neighborhood. I met her Tuesday night, coming home from dinner at a beer garden (all you can eat and drink places located on the rooftops of buildings). She was at the same place.

honto ni yoroshiku doesn`t have an exact English equivalent but what we meant when we said it to each other before parting company was, "It was great to meet you, I really hope to see you again."

I guess I can live with cockroaches if it is also means I have the privilege of chance encounters with my other neighbors.

yoroshiku rural Japan.

Friday, June 12, 2009

The Places You`ll Go

Some travel tips and side notes from a recently seasoned traveler

1.) If you find yourself in Japan, touring around your parents...

-Use taxis. For the love, don`t drag travel-weary and jet-lagged parents through crowded train stations. It`s not worth it.
-Avoid rush hour (see above)
-Practice your smile beforehand. You`ll use it a lot; in pictures and just in general because it`ll be a good time
-Don`t sprain your ankle before the trip. Though the exercise of taking Japan by storm will be good for it and everything will be fine in the end, it`ll be a bit of a bother and a blow to the ego to be passed by hunched over old people while walking down the many stairs one encounters while traveling Japan
-Always stop for ice cream



2.) If you find yourself in the Philippines building homes... (for about a week)

-Don`t bring dust masks. Even though the packing list suggests them. It`s a tropical climate. So, no dust. Just mud. Lots of mud.
-Bring a floppy/sun hat. context is important for these things and they are not lame while building homes in the Philippines. There is no context, however, in which sunburns are not lame.
-If you decide to snorkel on your day off you might get stung by a jellyfish but really it`s not so bad. And snorkeling is badass.
-It`s possible to learn how to say the numbers 1-10 in another language in the course of two days even if you`re spending the majority of those two days sweating out everything you`re drinking
-Remember: you always have more strength
-Don`t go back home (Ok, so I don`t actually have any experience with this last tip. I always go back home. But never leaving the Philippines is the only reasonable response to have upon landing in that country. Unfortunately for me I am not reasonable)

Magandang mean beautiful in Tagalog which is the language spoken in the area of the Philippines I was in (Palawan, Puerto Princesa).

That is the first word my host mother taught me. Beautiful. What a beautiful world.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Things One Learns While Recovering From a Sprained Ankle in a Foreign Country

1. Ingesting seven month old jelly beans, while a new low, really does the heart good.
2. When you are in the vicinity of a mountain, wear appropriate footwear because you may find yourself accidentally climbing down said mountain
3. Upon hurting your ankle while accidentally climbing down a mountain, don`t continue to walk on it hoping everything will be fine. RICE, man, RICE!
4. Worry about your taxes after you`re healed. That`s just too much stress at once.
5. Though you may find yourself being X-RAYed without a protective lead-jacket by equipment that clearly states it should have been replaced 2 years ago and though you may be put into a plaster cast despite the absence of any broken body parts, it is completely possible to go into an inaka (rural/countryside) hospital and make it out alive.
6. The quaintness of indoor and outdoor shoes is lost on those with a cast. You spend 5 minutes getting the damn shoe on at home only to take it off 5 minutes later at school and struggle another 5 minutes to put a different pair of shoes on. But we wear outdoor shoes outside and indoor shoes inside. No exceptions. Not even for a cripple.
7. Discovering a way to make pasta despite a cast and crutches is a very liberating thing to do
8. Having a friend make you Mexican food for dinner is a very wonderful way to spend a weekend if you find yourself with limited mobility
9. Hitchiker`s Guide to the Galaxy is an enjoyable read
10. In case you haven`t garnered enough sympathetic looks and gestures by crutching around school for two weeks, pass out during a lesson. They`ll really worry about you then.

Now that I find myself happily without a cast or crutches (a fact that almost made me cry in the doctor`s office) I will be making my way to Tokyo to meet my parents at the airport. We`ll be taking Japan by storm for the next week or so. Their guide will be yours truly--one without much skill in the language, in traveling, or in walking without looking like a hunchback. The trip of lifetime.

Ikimasho! Let`s go!

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Kumquat. What, What!

This is a kumquat. It's in a tea cup. It's cute.

And it's a for real fruit! Five days ago the only thing I knew about "kumquat" is that it's a funny word to call someone. That's all. If I had to take a multiple choice test and the question was "What is a kumquat" I might have gotten it right, depending on the other choices.

I probably would have picked "fairy tale villain" and "1970s anime character" over "a fruit" but other than that I think I would have come out on top. But if it was a fill in the blank test I would have been at a loss. And I never would have guessed a kumquat looks exactly like an orange for dolls. Who would think a fruit with such a sweet, sweet name would be such a poser in the looks department?

For lunch there is occasionally dessert and sometimes that dessert is fresh fruit. Fresh fruit days are always good days. When I looked down at my lunch tray and saw two mini oranges all I could say was kawaii (cute). The office lady informed me that it's called kinkan. Awesome. No idea what it was but at least I knew it's name.

As I watched the students eat their kinkan I gleaned nothing further about my mystery fruit. Most students looked like they were just eating the peel. Weird. A couple were peeling their kinkan only to be laughed at by the other students. A kid next to me was eating the whole thing, making a terrible face. The other students were laughing at him and shouting oishii?! ("is it good?!") As I do with anything in a wrapper (the fresh fruit comes packaged to guarantee freshness) I took the tiny oranges back to my desk. I'd give it a try when I got home.

The teacher in the desk next to mine happens to be one of the English teachers and was eating her kinkan. She saw mine on my desk and pointed it out, asking if I could eat kinkan. Well, I said, I don't know. I've never eaten one before. At this Andou Sensei got out her Japanese-English electronic dictionary and I was introduced to the fruit kumquat! I couldn't hold in the laughter. Kumquat. A tiny orange. Just great.

Apparently kumquats are very good for you, especially the peel. The fruit, however, is a very bitter-sour taste, akin to grapefruit on steroids I would say. The peel is even less thick than a clementine peel and tastes just like the fruit of an orange. I was told that Japanese people eat kumquats as a snack and also use the peel in homeopathic medicine.

After trying my first ever kumquat I heard a bunch of laughter and exclamations of nihonjin janai (not a Japanese person). Apparently the head teacher of the second year students had never eaten a kumquat before and, like a a couple of the students I ate with, tried to peel it and eat the insides. His response to their exclamation was to question the logic of a fruit of which you eat only the peel, his closing argument being that "Japanese people are strange."

Kumquat. Best lunch ever.

Monday, February 23, 2009

One of Those ALTs...

It didn't take long to understand how long ALTs are remembered in a small town. Maybe this isn't true of all schools/areas but in mine the ALT is usually the only exposure anyone has with people who aren't Japanese.

I especially think about this in relation to the students I interact with. I am very conscious about providing the students every opportunity to use English. And in the process I think I may have become one of those ALTs. The ALT that knows nothing about Japanese culture, refuses to use Japanese, and in general doesn't try to embrace her life here but rather tries to transplant her American life. Now obviously that's a bit of an exaggeration but I worry about how little of an exaggeration it is.

There's this worn out (though I'm sure sincere) storyline about ALTs who refuse to use Japanese with their students until one day they decide to give it a shot and find that their students ease up because they see their ALT messing up too and there's this moment of solidarity and the students and ALT form a wonderful bond that carries them through boring worksheets and exhausting exams.

As nice as this story is it will never be mine. No matter how much my Japanese improves (it can only go up from here) I will never use it in the classroom and rarely outside of it. The role I've fashioned for myself is as a communication coach. I'm their dummy; they can test out their expressions and explanations on me.

This approach is sometimes not so successful and it puts me in a position to be overlooked by the less motivated students. I realize this and it's unfortunate; I wish I could encourage all 500 students to study English but that's chotto muri (a little impossible). What I can encourage are students who will give it a try, who will bravely raise their hands and direct their question at me instead of the Japanese teacher.

This bravery has led to impromptu versions of pictionary, charades, and 20 Questions as we struggle to understand each other. Their creativity always astounds me. One student drew a timeline on his worksheet with the words "present" and "future" written on it. Pointing to the blank dot he asked, "How do you say this English?" And he learned the word for "past" that day.

As I was walking back from a class not too long where two students pulled off the pantomime for "graduate" I was smiling to myself, feeling pretty good about my method. At my desk, though, I began to think about all the students who would never try such a stunt, who might want to talk to me but are afraid that I won't understand if they need to use some Japanese. Maybe my method was a bit selfish, making them do all the work as I sit in my English bubble? Maybe I really was one of those ALTs, one who's just too scary to talk to.

However, I recently had a speaking test that confirmed that though my method is not without flaws, it can produce amazing results.

One of students went from a score of little over 50% on her last test to almost 100% on this one. Her name is Miho. She likes to draw cherry blossoms on everything. One day in class we were playing BINGO. Instead of X's she was drawing cherry blossoms in the boxes.

I pointed at the drawing and said, "Cute!" She replied with, "sakura," the Japanese word for "cherry blossom." And I said "cherry blossom." Her eyes got big and she repeated the words a couple times, giggling after each time (foreign languages are funny and I think it would be easier for adults to learn them if we felt more freedom to laugh at the silliness of foreign sounds).

And that was Miho's turnaround. No longer the sweet but apathetic student she participates in class and talks with me after class. During lunch couple days ago she came up with this description for a famous Japanese drag queen: "A large hair woman gentleman." Grammatically correct? Not entirely, no. But it is effective, isn't it?

That's what I envisioned when I began to formulate my role as a communication coach. There are a few things you to effectively communicate in another language and here's the top two: creativity and opportunity. By always using English I am providing the opportunity that they wouldn't have otherwise; though the Japanese teachers know English there's not much motivation to speak with them in English since it'd be so much easier to speak in Japanese. And the creativity, that's all them.

So maybe for some of the students I will be remembered with a little resentment as one of those ALTs. But it's things like the "graduate" pantomime and Miho's test scores that strengthen my resolve to use English, to provide the opportunity to use English for communication outside of the set textbook sentences. Different styles work for different ALTs and different schools; I am well aware that being an English test dummy won't work for everyone or even for most people. But being one of those ALTs is working for this ALT. At least for now.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Afraid of a Prize?

Well, despite living in a country where congratulating oneself is a bit unseemly I will proudly say that my Japanese is improving.

Like a lot of things in life, it took a bit of getting over myself and my fears but eventually I found myself in the position I am now where 9 times out of 10 I'm celebrating a little victory.

One thing that helped was buying a couple phrase books and relying on those more than my textbooks (read: I am no longer studying from a textbook). What's so encouraging about studying from phrasebooks is that these are the things people say everyday.

Unlike "I have been to the places marked in red on this map" which I am confident I will never hear or say in Japanese, I've already heard two people at school use "That surprized me" since learning this sentence three days ago. Eventually I'll need to get back to learning grammar, when I become constricted by the inflexibility of set phrases, but that's not now. Now I just need some things to keep the conversation going as I brush my teeth after lunch with the middle-aged music teacher.

Yet despite this encouraging progress there are still some things I fear. Today I discovered that there is such a thing as a scary prize. I know, I know. Normally I would be all about free things, especially in the form of a prize. However, not all prizes are 100% fun.

As I got in line today in the convenience store, or konbini, I noticed the woman in front of me was offered a box with Dragon Ball Z characters all over it. She reached into the box and pulled out 4 tickets (I was able to understand that the clerk had instructed her to do this). One of the tickets was a lucky one; she got a free drink. However, in order to redeem this free drink she was asked a series of questions and I wasn't able to make out even the gist of any part of these questions.

Oh crap.

I considered my options (dropping the chapstick I came to buy and running out the door, pretending to be deaf and/or blind, staring at the clerk blankly until he gives up on me) but I couldn't make a decision and found myself at the counter with the terrifying prize box taunting me and my poor Japanese.

Chapstick rung up. 313 yen paid. Now the moment of truth.

"Take one ticket," he said with the same smile all konbini clerks have. I pulled it out and noticed it didn't look like the lucky one the lady in front of me had. I was safe. I was instructed to please keep that ticket because.....and then I lost him but I just smiled back and said Hai, hai (though it means "yes, yes" this is totally noncommittal and does not denote understanding like it does in English). I made it out. Safe!

So, until this Dragon Ball Z promo blows over I might just have to avoid the konbini and the terrifying prospect of a prize.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Lookin' Out My Own Eyes

I am happy to have a mom that insisted I come home for Christmas. Traveling Japan or going to exotic beaches sounded so much cooler than Lindenhurst, Illinois and so for a brief moment I felt sorry for myself that I was spending my time in the place I'd been living at for 22 years. This quickly passed when I found myself in the company of those who know me. It was a perfectly timed break, both for leaving and coming. Getting out of Japan was essential, just as essential was coming back here.

A friend from college was visiting a former exchange student of our college for New Year's. However, this former exchange student--Tomoka--now works in Tokyo and had to get back to it the Monday following New Year's. So our friend--Sophie--came and lived in Yamadanosho with me for a little over a week.

I had to go back to work too but it wasn't so bad. Classes didn't start until January 8th so I took long lunches with Sophie. During her week here Sophie rode my bike around the beauty that is Oku, Okayama. During lunch I'd get my fill of our delicious concoctions as well as her stories about her travels.
She told me about the cranes, who seem made for a world that passed hundreds of thousands of years ago. She told me about some really beautiful shrine that was both inviting to her curiosity and off-putting given her foreignness and unfamiliarity with such things.

On Friday the 9th she came with me on one of my kindergarten visits and then to lunch at Oku Junior High School. Five months ago I was lucky if one of the students said a barely audible "Hello" in response to my greetings. But as Sophie and I approached school, a group of second year girls ran up to us shouting "Hello! How are you?" and "Nice to meet you" to Sophie. All of this unprompted.
When I met one of the P.E. teachers this summer she wouldn't speak English to me. She was very kind and remains one of my favorites but she just isn't into English. I understand. I hate chemistry. I don't hate chemists, I just hate the subject. Sophie and I stumbled upon her in the locker room where I hang my coat. The P.E. teacher looked directly at Sophie and said without any coaching or encouragement from me, "Hello. My name is Mayuki Masamoto. Nice to meet you."

Living each day, each week, I've missed the change that's been happening at Oku Junior High School. Things can always be better. They can always be easier. But that shouldn't cloud my ability to see things as they are today.
Over break I went to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" with my parents. I loved it. It's not for everyone, but I was in love within the first 15 minutes I think. Brad Pitt's character was born old and grows younger throughout the movie. It's just his body; he goes through all the other stuff like anyone else, he's just in a body opposite from the normal aging process. Anyways, another character asked him what it's like to grow younger instead of the older. He replies, "I don't know. I'm always lookin' out my own eyes."
And that's just it, isn't it? Having people in our lives isn't just nice, it's essential.It gives us a chance at a perspective we couldn't have without them. No doubt, it was fun being back at school. There was a holiday spirit in the air and I was genuinely happy to be in the company of my co-workers and the students again. But without Sophie I wouldn't have had the chance to see the beauty in a life that can be seen only from the outside.
And I, like all of us, will continue living my life looking out my own eyes. But what a blessing to have the company of others, the view of someone else. Simple things like crane sightings and enthusiastic "Hellos" seen through another's eyes.