Biking Japan in the Rain, Heat, and Wind

Like a lot of my fellow ALTs, I ride a bike to school. It's a pretty sweet bike, complete with granny basket, and headlight. I like it.

I only have a ten minute bike to school. In fact, everything I need I can get to in less than ten minutes. All the rice fields tricked me. I'm not so isolated, really.


Like many kids born in the wasteland of strip malls and SUVs that is suburbia, I often fantasized about a world where you could get to where you're going without a car. The bicycle, like Robin Hood or Thoreau, was an inspiring ideal that fell short of my reality. Upon arriving in my town in Japan one of things I was most looking forward to was purchasing a bike.


The thing about riding a bike to school everyday is that you have to ride a bike to school everyday. While I appreciate the long over do exercise this necessity is subjecting me to, I appreciate it far more on mild days with clear skies. Biking in the rain, heat, and wind do not fall under the "mild" category. Just to clarify.

Biking in the rain:

By some gracious act of God I have not yet had to bike to school in the rain. One tricky morning I woke up to thunderstorms. I raced to get ready, put my purse and school bag in plastic bags, and get my amazing raincoat on. I was running late because that's what I do plus the added time to weather-proof myself and my belongings and so I had to peddle like crazy. Peddle like crazy as the birds sang into the clear blue skies that broke 30 seconds into my ride. My amazing raincoat is really, really protecting and as such there is no breath-ability to it. In a downpour, great. In the sunshine as you're pumping your legs as fast as they go, not so great. Sweaty.

I have had to bike home in the rain several times. This doesn't bother me so much because once I'm off work I don't mind if my clothes get soaked. This is not to say I enjoy biking in the rain. I don't really even like walking in the rain.

Some highlights: zipping up my neon green raincoat complete with hood to the laughter of both teachers and students, a raindrop with great aim blinding my one eye for half the ride home, and near death while I tried out (the one and only time) holding an umbrella while biking. Though technically illegal, this move is universal among Japanese bike riders from the young to the old. It takes practice.

Biking in the heat:

During the first month and a half I was biking to school in 90 degree heat with the humidity at about 600% (if someone tells you there is no such thing as 600% humidity I invite such a person to spend August in Japan). Even a slow-paced ride produces a waterfall of sweat from the pores because despite the breeze biking creates, the sweltering humidity encases you.

Now, allow me to introduce you to the sad fact of my mornings: I am always running late. Especially during that first month when I was adjusting to a hugely different time zone and a new, lonely house I had a need to turn that 10 minute bike ride into about a 6 minute one. It can be done. The consequence is, however, arriving to school out of breath and pouring sweat while all around the lovely Japanese teachers don't so much as glisten sweat.

Biking in the wind:

Compared to Chicagoland winters, the winter weather of my region in Japan is super mild. It'll rarely fall below zero degrees. However, I never biked anywhere back home. For recreation, yes. As my means of transportation, not so much. So, while I am used to the type of cold that freezes your nose hairs and knocks the breath out of you I am not familiar with biking in anything besides gorgeous weather.

On a windy, cold day after hurriedly doing my hair, taking too much time to try to get it right, I step outside and am immediately assaulted by the harsh winds. The hair's gone. Soon to follow is the make-up: add these cold winds to the wind I create while biking and my eyes water from the time I get on the bike until I arrive at school. So I fond myself in a vicious circle these days: running late because I take too much time getting ready only to mess the whole thing up as I bike in the howling wind. Something about mountains and valleys and the sea.


I'll probably miss these bike rides when time here is done.

Some Perspective as the Economy Rumbles

A couple weeks ago my school gave me a recontracting form. This misleadingly simple-looking document represents a big decision. One that I won't have to make until February 6th, thankfully. I had always intended on this experience being a one year deal but am now on the fence in a big way. As I told someone recently, I'm going to put the thought of another year in Japan away in my mind and see if time persuades me to either side.

Recontracting was a major topic of discussion as I hung out with other ALTs this weekend. Many have decided "yes" or "no" but equally as many are in my position. Though this is not a major factor (as it shouldn't be) the economy in our respective countries and how much money we're making now has been brought up many times. The fear of a recession, another Great Depression, loom in most of our minds. With these conversations fresh in my mind I stumbled upon a news story today at school that was ironic and prophetic in many ways. The story takes place as the economy rumbles, stops and starts.

A contractor was working on a house and found a stash of money hidden inside a wall dating back to the Great Depression. $182,000 to be exact. At a time when banks were drowning, families homeless and starving, a man hid almost $200,000 in the walls of his house for a rainy day that I guess never came for him.

As if that measure of greed and lack of compassion wasn't prophetic enough to give us some perspective on our present condition, the reason this find is even making news is because the contractor and the homeowner were never able to reach an agreement on how to split the money. This feud went on so long and was so heated that a newspaper picked the story up. Once it appeared in the news, the descendants of the Depression-era hoarder wanted in on the loot.

The home owner, who owns at least one other property that was recently foreclosed, spent or lost much of the money. The contractor has lost business, he says, because of the negative view many clients now hold of him. (Click here for the full story).

Wow. The contractor said it best when he explained that finding the money "was a neat experience" and "something that won't happen again." The rest that followed, though, was regrettable he said. That's a good reminder to relish in the simple, extraordinary moments that grace our days.

It's a good reminder to keep some perspective on the value of money as the economy rumbles.

We Need to Hold Each Other Tight: Talking Politics with my Teachers

I arrived in Japan in late July. I spent a couple blurry days of orientation with hundreds of other ALTs learning about our upcoming year. Then I went to my prefecture to be further oriented for a day and a half. After that, we all met our supervisors and left to see what would be home for at least a year.

After stops to the City Office to apply for my "Alien Registration Card," the home store "Daiki" to pick out essentials like a frying pan and laundry detergent, and my new house to sign some papers, my supervisors took me to the Board of Education of my town to meet the higher-ups. Over oolong tea we shared pleasantries, translated by my supervisor. One of the first questions I was asked was:

"Who will be the next President of America?"

It is undeniable that much of the world is wondering about it, too. As the world superpower, many eyes are on us. What we do, and don't do, as a nation echoes throughout the world. And as much as I wanted to tell those eager men at the BOE that I sincerely hoped Obama would win I shrugged off the question saying the race was close. While I can guess which candidate they supported (hint: not the guy from the same party as Bush) I was so used to keeping politics out of pleasant conversation in America that my initial reaction to such a question was automatic and noncommittal.

I have had not as much luck staying neutral with the teachers at school. The day a few came over to set up my internet in early August they saw my "Obama '08" sticker I got from MoveOn.org. Soon after that the social science teacher and head of the second year teachers asked me about my opinion on the election. I decided to commit a little and tell the truth. I didn't really have the luxury of worrying about what constitutes pleasant conversation as conversation period was in meager supply during that first month. If he wants to talk politics I'll talk politics, I thought, just so long as he's--anybody,really--talking to me.

My own perspective on this election has benefited from hearing from my very liberal friends, conversations with my mother--a woman of great spiritual conviction struggling with party lines and moral absolutes, and an excellent documentary by PBS Frontline called "The Choice 2008." All these have enlightened and challenged my own perspective.

What I wasn't expecting was to have my political perspective influenced by a middle-aged teacher of social science. A small man with a big heart and a smile that stretches from ear to ear. Over enthusiastic to a fault and endearing all the more for it, this man has little command of English but a great desire to communicate with me, especially after he found out I regularly read the New York Times online.

He said he read in the paper, something he does everyday at lunch, that America was experiencing a home loan crisis and the report he was reading highlighted problems in the Midwest. He asked if my family was okay. What a caring question. Our conversation, as they all inevitably have, ended quickly after that. After some consulting with his online Japanese/English dictionary he spoke again.

"There is a big crash in America. Like 1929. The Great Depression"
"Yes, it is a big problem now," I said.
"In 1929 it was a big problem too. Many countries had many troubles," he said.
I nodded in agreement, waiting for his main point.
"Germany. Japan. Very poor, many people so hungry. Then a bad war."
Oh dear, we're not going to talk about WWII, are we? I thought.
"This time we must..." he paused trying to find the right words but then just gestured what he meant: his two arms outstretched, his hands grasping invisible ones.
"Issho ni, Together," he remembered what word we was looking for. "We must--all the countries--hold each other tight."
"Yes, me must. Together, issho ni," I agreed.

Can we learn from the past? Is that something humans can do, have we ever done it? I'm not sure. But I think if I thought about the world with this kind of perspective I would be well on my way to helping create a more just one. To see this current economic crisis as a way for the countries of the world to come together, to hold each other tight, is not something I've heard many people say. I love it's idealism, it's simplicity, and ultimately it's truth. We are in this together whether we act like it or not.

So let's hold each other tight. Through this crisis, through the election, and after. And then together let's find ways to hold those in Darfur and the Congo tight. Let's hold our soldiers and the Iraqi people tight. Let's hold tight the homeless that sleep on our streets (1 in 4 homeless men are veterans). Let's hold tight women making tough decisions about their unborn children. Let's hold tight the rescue workers of 9/11 who need health care, who need help now just as they gave so much on that awful day. Let's hold tight the strangers we pass by everyday, the people who serve us our coffee and bag our groceries.

Together, issho ni.

Simple Things: Making Friendships

Simple things, not great adventures, have kept me from this for awhile. Doing daily things like cleaning (not much, I won't lie), catching up on politics and friends' lives, and settling in have taken up most of my time. I've also just begun my Japanese correspondence course as well as the once a week conversation class I take. I am much less busy than when I was a student and yet I'm finding myself very protective of my time. So, despite the amount of free time I have in comparison to my college life, I also have a new perspective, a new expectation of free time. And so, time seems to evaporate just as quickly as it did a year ago!

I've been here long enough to begin experiencing the joys of friendship, however slight, with the other teachers. Last Friday, my school had it's annual chorus competition (a week after it's annual cultural festival and only a month after the annual sports day). I grew up singing because grew up going to church. That being said, I also grew up being made fun of for my utter inability to sing. This trait, or lack of one, has not improved with age. As with everything at my school, what the students do, the teachers do. We are one. And my policy since day one has been to say yes to anything (within a small measure of reason) that can get me involved in life here. So when one the teachers asked if I would sing with them I said, "Yes."

Wait, what? Sing? Yeah, me sing. To top it all off it was "We Are the World." In English. So not only was I singing but I was also the go-to person when it came to pronunciation and intonation. What this translated to was me not only spending an hour after school to practice singing with the teachers but also to often be the only one singing so they could hear how they ought to be pronouncing the words. The bright side was that they were best students I have ever had.

After practice we'd walk back to the staff room and go over certain words or lines. We'd talk about America and Japan, reflecting on differences and similarities. The other teachers would ask me about my school days, especially compared to this school. Some of the English teachers have never been abroad so I hoping that one day, once I'm back home, they'll come and see the sights and eat the food of my hometown. (I'll have to think long and hard before I can come up with something as terrible as natto to subject them to).

After the chorus competition--the students' classes were competing, the teachers and I just sang for fun--I mulled around the office for a as long as I could but ended up cutting out before I usually do. I saw all the sports teams practicing as I was leaving and decided to take a look. On our one dirt-covered field: soccer, track & field, and baseball practice was going on. The coordination of this fact was a sight to behold. A P.E. teacher and the running coach saw me watching and walked over to me to briefly chat. He's always been one of the most friendly but also one of the most reluctant to use any English with me. His recent efforts at communicating have been very heart-warming and encourage me to keep studying Japanese. He told me, "I sing very well today. I can't speak English but I practice very hard to sing. English is important." I agreed that he did a great job and congratulated him on his efforts. He smiled and then walked away, some of his runners were slowing their pace and that just wouldn't do.

This is a small start, just a little exchange. It would be very forgettable back home. But here, this exchange was only possible because both of us stepped outside of our comfort zones for no practical reason. Just to be friendly, just to share something.

And I think that's great. Small, but great.

The "Hockey Mom" in Me

Got my absentee ballot in the mail! I love voting. I love being a citizen of a country that wants to know who I think ought to be President of the US. I really, really like that. Plus, I can navigate the Post Office by myself which gives my otherwise bewildered self a boost of confidence. All in all, voting this year is going to rock.


Living abroad has it's perks. For example, I ride a bike to work. It's a 10 minute bike ride. Pretty perky, eh? Also, there is a bakery in the department store that's about 5 minutes from my house. After work every Friday I stop by and get some sort of tasty treat, Japanese style.

Last week I got a pizza-like bread roll with melty cheese and green peppers. Very perky. But one of the biggest perks is the automatic media filter that living abroad is. If I want to stay abreast of latest campaign controversy, it's just a click away. However, If I had no fingers or toes I could count on my hands and feet how many political ads I have seen this election year. That's right, I have been able to completely miss the serious-voiced ads, with their misleading quotes and overt manipulation of the voters. Completely miss, I mean I haven't seen a one.


I stay informed however, and have watched both the first presidential debate and the vice-presidential debate as well as any and all media that comes across my desk (okay, there's my Palin jab, I confess). I usually catch some commentary in the wake of the debates, to find out what everyone else is paying attention to. More often than not, though, I find myself not just "paying attention to" what the media is covering but I also I find myself adopting the criticisms and observations of the media. In the presidential debate I really liked the way Obama would agree with McCain when he could. I saw that as him living out his beliefs of coming together as a nation, his beliefs about bipartisan politics. By the time I was finished watching and reading commentary on the debates I started thinking that maybe Obama was too soft, maybe he should have attacked McCain more. I didn't notice that McCain never looked Obama in the eyes. And yet, after enough New York Times pieces I began thinking that, hey, that must be indicative of something...weakness, timidity, contempt? I don't know yet, but it's got to be important if it's getting so much coverage.


So decided that after watching the VP debate I would take a moment and process my impression before being told what to think about each candidate. This is particularly difficult for me because I am 100% for the Obama/Biden ticket so my impressions are naturally biased. However, I want to disagree with McCain/Palin for my own reasons and not because of what Countdown's Keith Olbermann has so say. Here's a list of some of the things that struck me as I watched the debate:

1. Palin used the rallying cry "Never again" to refer to our economic meltdown. This, to me, was incredibly creepy given that this same cry was heard after the Holocaust and yet genocide has been a constant in our modern times, from Bosnia to Rwanda to Darfur to the Congo.
2. Speaking of the Holocaust, it was incredibly tacky of Palin to repeatedly say that we needed to be vigilant against Iran lest we allow, by our lack of vigilance, "a second Holocaust." As mentioned above, our world is rife with genocide, to single out the Holocaust seems to send a clear message that Africa matters less.
3. Okay, I obviously agree that intervention is needed in Darfur, Sundan. But "boots on the ground," as the moderator suggested, was a tactic not questioned by either candidate. I appreciated Palin's discussion about Alaskan divestment and Biden's comments about his work in the Senate. What about international pressure, though? What about peacekeeping efforts? What about effective sanctions? What about China's interests in the region? Noisy silence was what I got from both candidates.
4. Other Palin problems: suggesting that her position as a mother (not parent) put her in a special position to identify with the American public that's worried about their kids' futures (I'm glad Biden called her out on this gender stereotype, citing his experience as a single parent); her excessive use of the word "maverick" detached from any real meaning and in the face of facts contradicting it's applicability; rephrasing "inexperience" as being a "Washington outsider" as if it's a good thing our country could be run by someone who has no knowledge of/experience in national politics.

But really, that's all I that stuck out to me. Our hands off policy surrounding genocide is something that is concerning to me, so I picked up on that. Also, I think words--even coming from the mouths of politicians--have meaning and it upsets me when for the sake of manipulation or catering to a demographic words are divorced from their meanings. But Palin's winking or "Joe Sixpack" comments didn't really make an impression on me. I also didn't notice Palin avoiding questions as much as the media has highlighted.

So maybe I'm just a gullible everyday "Hockey Mom" who doesn't notice the details and elects people into office who are unfit to run. Or maybe I'm a voter, who just cares about the issues she cares about, interested to hear from the candidates an honest statement, a clear position. While the media frenzy works out which candidate was most likable and SNL works out their next sketch I'll still be here hoping our economy doesn't collapse and that when I come back home I'll be able to get affordable health care.

An average American "Hockey Mom" (minus being a mom, or liking hockey) praying it's not too late for honesty from the White House.

My New Hobby: Figuring out What "Teacher" Means in Japan

Happy fall (weather)! The cool breeze and lack of humidity has been real cheery here. I am thankful for the changing of the seasons.

While preparing to leave for Japan over two months ago I remember being prepped on two things over and over again: 1). teachers are really busy in Japan, and 2). make sure you have a hobby, that you do things you enjoy regularly. It turns out these two things are very related. You see, upon being placed in my town the only people I knew were the teachers at my school. They are all very wonderful and I have enjoyed working with and among them. However they are, just I was endless told, busy. Really busy. So, if coming over here I had the idea that me and the other teachers would be hanging out all the time, well, I'd have been in for a bit of a shock. I sit at my desk, they sit at their desks and we work. They run here and there (I'm not being poetically vague here, I really have no idea where they are going most of time and I have no idea why they must run). I usually have two or three free periods a day. They usually have, well, negative free periods as there are things to be done well before the first bell rings and well after the last one.

While still in the States I became a little dismayed when I realized I didn't actually have a hobby. I don't sew or paint or exercise. I don't collect anything anymore (I was young, Tweety Bird was cool then, give me a break). I read and I write. I've always done that, my childhood is a blur of softball practices and long hours by myself reading or playing with my beloved Barbies. Is reading a hobby, though? Is writing? Probably. And since they're all I've got I'm holding onto them. And yet, upon arriving on this island, I decided I should pick up a hobby. Ya know, just in case.

Here's why I don't have a hobby: I find few things more important than getting to know people or ideas so given the option of doing something or just shootin' the breeze with someone I'll always choose the latter. And so, I sit a lot at work. I prepare worksheets, activities, or lesson plans and, yes, I do teach. But when I'm not doing those things I sit. Sometimes I study Japanese (I learned 5 kanji characters last week, only 1,995 to go until I can read a newspaper). Besides the teaching part, though, everything else I do involves sitting: studying while sitting, writing lesson plans while sitting, and so on.

It was during one of these periods of sitting that I discovered my new hobby. You see, in those first weeks that I was here I was very curious, I wanted to understand the way Japanese schools are run. My curiosity hasn't waned since then, but I longer hold any futile notion of understanding how things operate over here. Back when I was trying to figure out what kept the teachers so busy I would ask them, periodically, what they were doing. I was especially curious during summer "vacation." During that time especially I was usually the only one in the office, the other teachers busy. Running here and there.

So as I saw a teacher getting ready for, well, something I'd ask what they were off to do. Ya know, maybe I could help. In the summer I had no lessons to plan, no worksheets to make, and no stamina to study for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I thought I'd try and make myself available. So I asked one of the teachers what she off to do and she replied "I do the accounting for the first grade so I need to make some calls." And there my new hobby was born.

In a school system where the school clerks cut the hedges and school teachers do the accounting I knew I wasn't going to "get it" anytime soon. But I keep asking because I hope this answer will top the one before it. Most recently the I got this answer: "I need to go gather the aluminum cans." Teacher/accountant. Teacher/janitor. The fun never ends!

Forget reading, writing, or dusting off my Tweety Bird collection (kidding, it's back home...wait...I mean I gave it away) my new hobby is keeping a record of the answers I get to "What will you do now?"

Being Taught about Learning

Despite my wealth of resources to learn Japanese (dictionaries in book form and on my DS, flashcards in the shape of a friendly lion, textbooks and cute notebooks bought at the 100 yen shop) most days I find myself in short supply of motivation to study. And though I'd like to use the excuse that I am too tired from my busy days at school that's not the deciding factor in my scholastic apathy. Or I could say that Japanese is difficult, I can't learn it. But difficult is not impossible. But besides, after I go back home it's not like I'll need to know Japanese, right?

Now let's move out of my living room (where I am busy arranging my study materials for a photo shoot instead of...well...studying) and into my classrooms. The third year students (8th graders) are by far the least enthusiastic though they know the most English. Half the time if I say "Hello" to them as we're eating lunch together they'll look at me as if I just said "Jxvryklg" and then mutter something like "muri" (meaning "impossible").

The first year students (6th graders) are almost the polar opposite. Though no one really likes to have crazy foreigners interrupt their lunch periods the these kids are great sports. I get a chorus of "Hellos!" upon entering their classroom where they're eating. Even the terribly shy ones try to ask me about what I like or don't like on my plate. (Today I learned that "kinoko" is "mushroom" because one of the students hates them. I feel her pain). Besides saying that "It's sunny/cloudy/rainy today," likes and dislikes are pretty much all the first year students can say and yet they are the most eager to talk to me. By the end of this year they will have an exhaustive list of what I really feel about school lunch. And the third years will memorize all the scratches and stains on their shoes/desks since they spend most of their lunch looking down, trying to avoid eye contact and the horrible possibility of saying "Hello" to me.

The third year students' attitude depressed me a little. They know so much yet are using so little of it. I understand if they are shy (I was a very shy student) and if they'd rather just keep to themselves (I felt the same way for much of my education). I don't expect them all to be outgoing or talk to me every second because I wouldn't have done that as a student but it would be nice to see a little more effort on their part. Obviously there are exceptions to this general rule of apathy but by in large the third year students either feel like they are too busy to bother studying, that English is too hard to learn, or that they won't need to know English once they're done with school so what's the point.

And all of a sudden it came to me: in relation to learning Japanese I am just like my third year students. The first year I studied Japanese in college my roommate and I hosted a Japanese exchange students for two weeks. Before her arrival my Japanese professor helped us think of things we could say to the exchange student in Japanese. And as we went through helpful expressions like "from what time to what time will you be gone" or "do you like hamburgers." I got so excited as I realized that I could actually communicate with her in Japanese. For the next three years I studied Japanese and my roommate and I hosted exchange students. I spoke Japanese the most to the first student. The last one we hosted I spoke no Japanese to. As I continued learning Japanese, my focus turned from what I could say to all I couldn't say and the more I learned the more I realized how little I knew. All it takes is a couple pompous people making fun of your pronunciation and then it's game over. I didn't need it for daily life so I studied, spoke in class, and then promptly forgot anything Japanese until next class.

And it's the same now. I think to myself, Sure I can say "What time is the meeting" but what's the big deal, 5-year-olds know how to say that so why even try and besides, I'll probably pronounce it wrong. I can try to learn 5 kanji characters a week but I'll never be able to read an office memo so is it even worth it? And so for the first couple weeks that I was here I just gave up. I didn't open my textbook, I didn't speak to anyone in Japanese.

However, once I realized I was getting frustrated at the students for acting just like I was I decided it was probably time to be more mature than a 14 year old. Also, little friendships have made me reconsider my position on not bothering with speaking Japanese.

One of the teachers who sits next to me in the staffroom can speak only a little English but is very intent on asking me how I am and how I liked the lunch on any given day. From him I'm secretly learning the words for all the stuff I really don't like. During lunch last week one of the third year boys said "Sensei, shaberu!" ("Teacher, let's chat!") When I said I didn't know what "shaberu" meant he asked me to "please study Japanese." I followed quickly by asking him to please study English and the students within earshot all laughed.

I am here to teach English. But I'm finding it more and more difficult to excuse my lack of effort in studying Japanese if I expect the students to work hard at their English studies.

And if we both try a little harder, one day soon we'll "shaberu" during lunch, giving me a convenient excuse to leave half of my fish and unidentifiable vegetables untouched.