I’m going to break down past couple of weeks into two subsections: fun time and work time (although they overlap in a couple of places).
FUN TIME
I went to Tokyo for a few days at the end of July and met up with some friends. We went to Shinjuku, Odaiba, Shibuya, and Roppongi, and all in all it was a pretty sweet respite from slow country living that characterizes life in the D (Daishoji). I enjoy Tokyo, but this time it was hot. REALLY hot. In fact, after a day of walking around Odaiba I came as close as I ever have to passing out from dehydration. I probably spent like 2000 yen on vending machine drinks on that day alone.
I’ve taken up bike riding this summer, which has been a really effective outlet of stress and unused energy. Kaga has some really beautiful countryside—rolling fields of rice, beach paths, and mountain trails—all within easy access. I usually go home after work, change, and then hit the road while it’s still daylight. There are some woods I frequent that I swear could be the setting of Jurassic Park 4 (although God forbid that should ever happen) or Lord of the Rings: Rise of the Jungle Orcs. Sometimes I run into students or other people I know, but on tiny winding roads it’s pretty rare. I’ve been down some isolated narrow mountain paths where I’m almost positive the prehistoric inhabitants haven’t seen foreigners since Tom Cruise tried to modernize Japan back in the Meiji era.
Other than that, there’s been parties, karaoke, friendly get-togethers, and fire alarm fiascos.
WORK TIME
-In the second half of July, I went on an English retreat with a high school in Kanazawa to Hakusan. It was my first time working with high schoolers, and it was awesome! They actually have some English ability and would listen to directions and had decent senses of humour :D. We ended up doing lots of games, skits, an English proficiency exam practice test,
-Last week was quite busy—a rarity during summer vacation. On Tuesday I gave a conversational English seminar to the staff and faculty at my largest elementary school. Homeroom teachers by and large have no formal English language training beyond what they themselves learned in school, so for a lot of them the new English curriculum has come as a shock. Even more so considering that come next year, they’ll have to be teaching English solo cuz there aren’t enough foreign ALTs to go around. So we went over useful expressions, did some activities, drills, pronunciation practice, etc. They were almost exactly like my students—I looked around at one point and saw some 3rd grade teachers whining about how the principal was cheating at “Go Fish”.
-The following day I went to Daishoji’s local daycare center and did a presentation on Canada and played some games with local kids (Anna and Alex’s students). It didn’t take them long to warm up to me so pretty soon we were playing duck duck goose like we’d done it all our lives. Also, the youngest kids were super eager to grab hold of me. I mean, I can handle physical attention from little kids, but when they’re hanging off your legs it makes running a tad trickier.
-On Friday, Daniel, Zach and I taught some classes at the Tsubata community center on American sports. We played ultimate frisbee and battle ball (similar to dodgeball). The kids were mostly awesome at these games, but we coulda used some AC. By the time the last group of kids came in, I was drenched with sweat. One shocked-looking boy pointed at my shirt and asked me if it was indeed sweat, to which I responded, “No, I just hopped in the pool with my clothes on” which he seemed to accept.
Tomorrow, I’m heading to Korea for one night only and then to America!!! My layover in Seoul is pretty long, so I’m gonna stay at the same guest house I stayed at in March and meet up with a couple of friends, get a pitiful night of sleep, and then fly the 15 hours to Washington DC, where I will spend the next couple of weeks hanging out with family and friends. Can’t wait!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Pool Time
For the 5th graders, this was joyous news. We were studying “I like~”, which is flexible enough to mold any kind of lesson plan around. For the 6th graders, this wasn’t so good, because we were studying months and days, which don’t really have any applicable water activities (i.e. if you’re birthday’s in January, splash the person next to you). Don’t know how cool my bosses at the BOE would have been with me doing my class in the pool, but I just didn’t mention it and no one was the wiser...except maybe when I came back to the office soaked. But that might have been attributed to sweat.
So on Tuesday, we marched out to the sparkling blue water in the 35 degree afternoon with swimsuits and figurative language caps on and proceeded to do ball-passing warm-up games and some conversation relay races. This particular group of 5th graders is energetic and motivated, but try as they might, they just don’t have a knack for studying or sitting down and absorbing info, so I’ve quickly learned that if I want my English classes to have any effect, they’d better be packed full of hands-on activities, sporty-type games, and fierce group competition. It came as no surprise, then, that some of the most fluid sentences I’ve ever heard from this bunch came when they’d just done two laps of the swimming pool and asked their partner whether or not they like Nintendo DS. It was a fun class, but I ended up getting to the next class a little late, and, unbeknownst to the students, I taught in my swim trunks heehee.
On the same day at one of my other schools, I entered the pool for a second time, this time because I was invited during my free period to experience a Japanese elementary school swimming class. So I joined the students for stretches beside the brand new pool, which is located on the roof of the school overlooking a beautiful lake. It was definitely better than sipping coffee in the teacher’s room. We did some paddling practice and laps of the pool and kicking with a foam board, which brought back memories of learning to swim as a kid in NZ. I don’t know about American or Canadian schools, but apparently all public schools in Japan have their own pool and instead of P.E. in the gym, kids are taught to swim a couple of times a week once the weather is hot enough.
We all learned some lessons that day:
-When I removed my shirt to hop in the pool, my kids learned firsthand where the ‘white’ in ‘white people’ comes from.
-I rediscovered the joys of giggling and splashing in the water, and that paddling several lengths of a pool is way more tiring than kids make it look.
Flipping out
It’s been a while, so here’s an update.
To our sudden dismay, 1st term clas
To our sudden dismay, 1st term clas
ses abruptly finished up yesterday, so in an effort to prolong the beginning of what can only be described as tortuous boredom in the Board of Education office, the Kaga English teachers signed up for the Daishoiji High School International Day. We were basically asked to prepare a hands-on lesson on something related to the culture of our home countries, in this case mine being Canada. Not being able to think past the maple syrup stereotype, I ended up teaching a pancake cooking class to some of my friend Daniel’s high school first graders.
The day before I went out and bought a couple tons of baking flour, maple syrup, milk, eggs and maple syrup, which I hadn’t counted on carrying to Daniel’s school at 8 in the morning in 30 degree heat. In any case, we got where we needed to be and started setting up. Several of my graduated junior high schoolers were in the ranks of the students attending the cultural event, including several kids who I remember having pretty decent English ability last year.
After heartfelt reunions were done, there was a brief opening ceremony, followed by my first cooking class. I had originally intended to do a test run the night before at home, but didn’t get around to it, so I instead demonstrated to the students with no practice, which I don’t think anyone noticed cuz by some miracle I made absolutely beautiful crepes on the first go—from raw ingredients to edible in 5 minutes. It was sweet. The students did just as well, and we all did our best to share ingredients and encourage one another using the wonderful medium of English. Some students in the second class tried flipping pancakes too, which was really successful. I probably would’ve thrown them into a wall or something, so I didn’t try.
The day before I went out and bought a couple tons of baking flour, maple syrup, milk, eggs and maple syrup, which I hadn’t counted on carrying to Daniel’s school at 8 in the morning in 30 degree heat. In any case, we got where we needed to be and started setting up. Several of my graduated junior high schoolers were in the ranks of the students attending the cultural event, including several kids who I remember having pretty decent English ability last year.
After heartfelt reunions were done, there was a brief opening ceremony, followed by my first cooking class. I had originally intended to do a test run the night before at home, but didn’t get around to it, so I instead demonstrated to the students with no practice, which I don’t think anyone noticed cuz by some miracle I made absolutely beautiful crepes on the first go—from raw ingredients to edible in 5 minutes. It was sweet. The students did just as well, and we all did our best to share ingredients and encourage one another using the wonderful medium of English. Some students in the second class tried flipping pancakes too, which was really successful. I probably would’ve thrown them into a wall or something, so I didn’t try.
Surprisingly, I only got to eat like half a pancake, while the students stuffed themselves with their bountiful batter. The great thing about pancakes is that you can’t really mess it up. Even the kids who seemed inept ended up with a pretty tasty end result. In the following closing ceremony, the group leaders and class leader thanked us and we were done, but all in all it was great to work with high schoolers for the first time. They were responsive, mature, and understood English enough to make pancakes. What more could you ask for?
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Kyushu Trip
Needless to say, it was first on our minds when around April or May my friends and I decided to make a little excursion to Japan’s southern paradise (to be clear, the one that’s not Okinawa). It wasn’t long before our ‘Fukuoka fantasy’ became reality, and before we knew it we were the proud owners of a stack of tickets to and around the island of Kyushu. Risk-taker that I am, I took a day off work to extend the trip to an unheard-of three--count 'em--three days. The tickets were actually a really good deal. All-you-can-ride rail pass anywhere within western Japan for three full days (including express and bullet trains) all for the low, low price of 16,000 yen. We pretty much woulda spent that much or more just getting there.
The morning of the 13th, I got up around the time old people in my neighbourhood usually have lunch (6am), packed my bag and met up with Shima, K, and Daniel at the train station. Sleepy but excited, we boarded our Osaka-bound train and met up with Tomoko, who had come directly from Kanazawa through Kaga. 15 minutes into our 5-hour journey and cameras (many of them brand new) were already flashing, ipods were out, and my new-used gameboy was being passed around like a cheap wh-…item. Impressively, Shima, who none of us thought was gamer material, beat Super Mario Land like it ‘wudn’t no thang’ before we even reached Kansai.
When we finally arrived at Hakata Station, our first order of business, understandably, was to wolf a couple bowls of ramen, which we accomplished without delay. That done, we wandered the already-scorching-hot Fukuoka streets in search of our hostel, which actually turned out to be pretty nice. We then proceeded to devote the rest of the afternoon to exploring Momichi, where Fukuoka’s Yahoo! Dome, Fukuoka Tower, Hawk’s Town, and some impressive beaches are located. I’ll be the first to admit that we lost a lot of time goofing around and taking ridiculous group pictures every couple of minutes (the same can really be said for the next two days as well), but no regrets from where I’m standing. It was time well spent.
After a celebratory beer at Hard Rock Café, it was time to head to Tenjin, Fukuoka’s downtown core, where I met my old host family and the Kaga group split up for a little while. My family and I headed to this great yakiniku place, where we gorged ourselves on savory meat and the odd vegetable. In classic form, and with my friend Alex’s help, dinner was spent ribbing my host sisters, which not surprisingly came back on me pretty quick.
Although it would have been great to spend more time with the surrogate fam, Maki, Alex and I rejoined my Kaga homies and cut loose until about 3 or so before stumbling back to the hostel. The next morning, we got up around 9-ish, and went to the station to catch the next train to Nagasaki. Amazingly, I found out my high school friend Paul had just moved there, so I was pretty excited to see him and check out his neck of the woods. I actually really enjoyed the city—we didn’t have time to see that much, but the weather was exceptionally good and Nagasaki had a cool, kinda cultured air to it. Everyone says it, but I’ll just reiterate that there’s virtually no sign that the city was ever leveled by an atomic bomb.
We strolled through Glover Garden, took the tram a bunch of times, and then meandered through the streets before going to the A-bomb museum and Peace Park for a sobering dose of history. I find that both Hiroshima and Nagasaki feature museum exhibits that are a fair bit more graphic than they would be in the West, but I guess that comes with the territory—no one in the West can claim to have had two major urban centers nuked. After catching up with Paul and seeing some of the sights, we had dinner and then took the train back to Fukuoka. We checked into a sweet new hotel that Shima booked for us and then headed back off to Tenjin for night out numero dos.
The next morning was maybe the most difficult to get going, and Daniel and Tomoko actually ended up leaving the hotel before the rest of us. Another perfect day, we went to Canal City for a bit of shopping and ramen for brunch. There’s a Cold Stone ice cream store that I particularly enjoy, mainly because the staff working the counter will burst into song on request. Yet, because of some inexplicably perceived connection between show tunes and swine flu, they weren’t offering their singing service that day. There was just enough time between bites of delectable ‘fudge devotion’ to feel a little disappointment.
My elder sister, Sayuri, met us at the mall and, while Shima, Daniel, and Tomoko made their way to Dazaifu Temple, the rest of us headed to Tenjin for an hour or two. While there, we spotted a poster outside a clothing store that, from a distance, was the spitting image of Daniel. Upon closer inspection it still looked a hell of a lot like him--> hat, blue shirt, beard—the works. With precious little time to spare before our rapidly approaching train home, K and I bid Sayuri goodbye and took a cab to one of Fukuoka’s most famous parks, Ohori Kouen. In the center is a large pond, and one look at the swan-themed paddle boats was enough to simultaneously convince us both that it was time to paddle-boat-race around the pond.
After getting off our short-lived ride, I popped into a convenience store to buy a drink, at which point the old man running the place moved hastily into the back room to retrieve something. When I went up to pay, he asked me if I spoke any Japanese, and when I said, “yeah, a little” he asked if I wouldn’t mind translating a sign for him from Japanese to English. So I got to do this guy a good turn while virtuously promoting cross-cultural exchange/internationalization AND I got a free Coke out of it. A sweet deal, it was. K took a picture of us holding the completed sign to commemorate the occasion and then we high-tailed it back to Hakata Station for the long trip home.
Friday, May 8, 2009
-"Hello" (or "haro", as it's most often pronounced) is an acceptable substitute for real conversation.
-Before visiting a school I haven't been to in a while, I always take some time to think of some interesting or exciting potential weekend plans to save inquisitive people the disappointment of learning that my weekend will be spent watching TV or doing other normal stuff that normal people do--gotta live up to that gaijin razzle dazzle lifestyle.
-In Korea, food from street vendors is meant to be avoided, but in Japan it's something to be sought after, no question.
-Getting nice and hammered by early afternoon under some blossoming cherry trees with your friends is the nationally preferred method of ushering in Spring.
-I recently started going out jogging, largely because the weather has become really nice. I found a nice secluded path down by the river that serves as both a scenic backdrop and a way to avoid inducing heart attacks among the elderly inhabitants of Daishoji--particularly the sort not accustomed to seeing young, sweaty white guys booking it through town for no apparent reason.
-My most fun schools are also the most dysfunctional.
-My students' most common response to a friendly "Good Morning" from me in the hallway is some sort of open-mouthed exclamation or look of discomfort, rarely resembling a greeting in either English or Japanese.
-Despite the language gap, I've found there's very little that can't be communicated in one way or another. You may be speaking/acting/wildly gesturing like a child/ape/less intelligent life form, but at least it's possible to express a bastardized version of what's on your mind.
-I went on a camping trip last week around the northern, peninsular part of Ishikawa, which is called the Noto. We made the newbie mistake of following road rules and posted signs, resulting in near-death situations more than a few times. Drivers in small, rural towns spit in the face of automobile laws and laughed at us at the same time...
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Things I've learned living here so far
Here it is:
IN AND AROUND DAISHOJI
-You can’t expect to get away with being overweight or oversize in any capacity.
-Jaywalking is frowned upon but still doable. Even more so, eating or drinking while walking. Or being foreign while walking.
-Service kicks ass—I will never get tired of people being cordial to me in stores and restaurants.
-No matter how much or how little Japanese a foreigner may emit, coos of praise are sure to follow.
-There’s one unrestricted wifi signal in Daishoji and after I cycled all over town with my ipod touch looking for one, I found it to be in a tiny parking lot outside a building near the train station.
-The train station will, without fail, have at least 20 or 30 Daishoji High School students waiting on the platform.
-Ramen is awesome.
-Going to the ‘big city’ brings home the fact that I’m turning into a country boy.
-For the first time in my life, I’m not allergic to everything. In fact, since I’ve been here, I curiously haven’t had any adverse reactions to nature whatsoever…
-Paying my bills at the convenience store, while kinda weird, is actually pretty convenient. I can just pop in for a sandwich and some pringles and pay my phone bill in one fell swoop.
-I will, without fail, run into minimum 5 of my students/other teachers if I am out and about in Kaga.
-Teenage boys suffer no loss of masculinity if riding in tandem on one of those old-lady bicycles with a basket.
-At exactly 6pm every Sunday evening an emergency siren unfailingly blasts across the expanse of town as though the Americans have returned on an overdue bombing run. Needless to say, it scared the crap out of me when I first heard it…and still does.
AT HOME
-Living by myself means that I will unavoidably waste food…which is a bad feeling.
-Cockroaches are slightly more intelligent than I am.
-Japanese people are surprisingly capable of adjusting to the squalor of my apartment, probably because it’s traditional Japanese squalor.
-Tatami mats (instead of tiled, wooden or carpeted floors) comprise roughly 90% of my apartment, which means I worry constantly about damaging it with heavy furniture, spilling food and drinks, exercising, cleaning, walking, sitting, lying down, and when I’m not home.
-My kotatsu (heated blanket-table warmth device) is the most practical piece of furniture I’ve ever invested in.
-On windy days, it’s best not to hang clothes outside to dry, because they can blow away and never be seen again. I’m not just talking about t-shirts—jeans too. No sign of ’em.
-Rice for at least two meals a day is now routine. I now just leave the rice cooker plugged in and turned on.
-When inviting my friend ‘K’ over, it’s best to have purchased several 6-pack boxes of ice cream beforehand. As a general rule of thumb, two won’t suffice.
-The patrons and hostesses at the snack bar next to my house necessitate earplugs when sleeping. And sometimes when awake.
-Due to the lack of central heating, winter in Japan results in the interior of my apartment being roughly the same temperature as the great outdoors, which in turn leaves me internally conflicted. On the one hand, I fear for my health and wonder why the f*** I have to wait for my toothpaste to thaw so I can squeeze it out of the tube, but on the other hand, I feel pretty badass for living in igloo-like conditions.
-Having a squat toilet kinda sucks, but you get used to it.
-I’ve discovered that if the house is in desperate need of vacuuming, I can wait several more weeks before actually doing anything about it.
-Sleeping in a 5ºC room has gradually become my ideal. Every night before bed, I whip out my futon and covers, don my Uniqlo sweatpants, sweatshirt, socks, and, on occasion, beanie, and hop into bed. Any warmer and my delicate insulation-to-temperature ratio is shot to hell.
-There’s nothing quite as uniquely irritating when I’m trying to enjoy a lazy afternoon at home than the screeching cacophony of the town’s venerable elderly drowning out my itunes playlist as they belt out their favourite pre-1950’s karaoke songs next door—worse when it’s the regulars straining their prehistoric vocal cords to force out the same agonizingly dissonant jingle day-in and day-out.
AT WORK
-School days are for the most part busy and very rewarding, leaving me feeling like I’ve actually accomplished something. Office days are not.
-Trying to look busy is an art form—one that, with practice and perseverance, can be refined and applied to maximize the industrious image of a completely unproductive day.
-If I have nothing to do on a given day, I am not assigned further tasks or responsibilities by my supervisor. Thus, on days when I have no classes or any significant amount of school preparation, I come to work with little, if anything, to accomplish that day…to the full knowledge of and acceptance by those around me.
-Because the average age in my office is roughly 50, I’m basically a child when compared to my coworkers, so everything I do will inevitably be attributed to my youth. If I take off my sweater when I’m hot, it’s cuz I’m young. If I mention that I’m hungry, of course it’s obviously cuz I’m young. If I sit still in my chair and don’t really do anything out of the ordinary, it must of course be cuz I’m young. 22 is the new 12…
-When getting up to go and pick something up from the printer or fax machine, there’s an unspoken rule that one must run or at least break into a light jog and throw on a stressed facial expression (there’s also a hissing/teeth-sucking option) to fully convey the pressing nature of one’s task, be it running a memo to City Hall or sprinting to the recycle box to dispose of that grape fanta can that’s been urgently sitting on the corner of one’s desk.
-On days when I have no school, I feel guilty leaving the office at the end of my work day because I know everyone else will end up working at least a couple of hours more than me.
This list is ongoing. I will add more to it later.
IN AND AROUND DAISHOJI
-You can’t expect to get away with being overweight or oversize in any capacity.
-Jaywalking is frowned upon but still doable. Even more so, eating or drinking while walking. Or being foreign while walking.
-Service kicks ass—I will never get tired of people being cordial to me in stores and restaurants.
-No matter how much or how little Japanese a foreigner may emit, coos of praise are sure to follow.
-There’s one unrestricted wifi signal in Daishoji and after I cycled all over town with my ipod touch looking for one, I found it to be in a tiny parking lot outside a building near the train station.
-The train station will, without fail, have at least 20 or 30 Daishoji High School students waiting on the platform.
-Ramen is awesome.
-Going to the ‘big city’ brings home the fact that I’m turning into a country boy.
-For the first time in my life, I’m not allergic to everything. In fact, since I’ve been here, I curiously haven’t had any adverse reactions to nature whatsoever…
-Paying my bills at the convenience store, while kinda weird, is actually pretty convenient. I can just pop in for a sandwich and some pringles and pay my phone bill in one fell swoop.
-I will, without fail, run into minimum 5 of my students/other teachers if I am out and about in Kaga.
-Teenage boys suffer no loss of masculinity if riding in tandem on one of those old-lady bicycles with a basket.
-At exactly 6pm every Sunday evening an emergency siren unfailingly blasts across the expanse of town as though the Americans have returned on an overdue bombing run. Needless to say, it scared the crap out of me when I first heard it…and still does.
AT HOME
-Living by myself means that I will unavoidably waste food…which is a bad feeling.
-Cockroaches are slightly more intelligent than I am.
-Japanese people are surprisingly capable of adjusting to the squalor of my apartment, probably because it’s traditional Japanese squalor.
-Tatami mats (instead of tiled, wooden or carpeted floors) comprise roughly 90% of my apartment, which means I worry constantly about damaging it with heavy furniture, spilling food and drinks, exercising, cleaning, walking, sitting, lying down, and when I’m not home.
-My kotatsu (heated blanket-table warmth device) is the most practical piece of furniture I’ve ever invested in.
-On windy days, it’s best not to hang clothes outside to dry, because they can blow away and never be seen again. I’m not just talking about t-shirts—jeans too. No sign of ’em.
-Rice for at least two meals a day is now routine. I now just leave the rice cooker plugged in and turned on.
-When inviting my friend ‘K’ over, it’s best to have purchased several 6-pack boxes of ice cream beforehand. As a general rule of thumb, two won’t suffice.
-The patrons and hostesses at the snack bar next to my house necessitate earplugs when sleeping. And sometimes when awake.
-Due to the lack of central heating, winter in Japan results in the interior of my apartment being roughly the same temperature as the great outdoors, which in turn leaves me internally conflicted. On the one hand, I fear for my health and wonder why the f*** I have to wait for my toothpaste to thaw so I can squeeze it out of the tube, but on the other hand, I feel pretty badass for living in igloo-like conditions.
-Having a squat toilet kinda sucks, but you get used to it.
-I’ve discovered that if the house is in desperate need of vacuuming, I can wait several more weeks before actually doing anything about it.
-Sleeping in a 5ºC room has gradually become my ideal. Every night before bed, I whip out my futon and covers, don my Uniqlo sweatpants, sweatshirt, socks, and, on occasion, beanie, and hop into bed. Any warmer and my delicate insulation-to-temperature ratio is shot to hell.
-There’s nothing quite as uniquely irritating when I’m trying to enjoy a lazy afternoon at home than the screeching cacophony of the town’s venerable elderly drowning out my itunes playlist as they belt out their favourite pre-1950’s karaoke songs next door—worse when it’s the regulars straining their prehistoric vocal cords to force out the same agonizingly dissonant jingle day-in and day-out.
AT WORK
-School days are for the most part busy and very rewarding, leaving me feeling like I’ve actually accomplished something. Office days are not.
-Trying to look busy is an art form—one that, with practice and perseverance, can be refined and applied to maximize the industrious image of a completely unproductive day.
-If I have nothing to do on a given day, I am not assigned further tasks or responsibilities by my supervisor. Thus, on days when I have no classes or any significant amount of school preparation, I come to work with little, if anything, to accomplish that day…to the full knowledge of and acceptance by those around me.
-Because the average age in my office is roughly 50, I’m basically a child when compared to my coworkers, so everything I do will inevitably be attributed to my youth. If I take off my sweater when I’m hot, it’s cuz I’m young. If I mention that I’m hungry, of course it’s obviously cuz I’m young. If I sit still in my chair and don’t really do anything out of the ordinary, it must of course be cuz I’m young. 22 is the new 12…
-When getting up to go and pick something up from the printer or fax machine, there’s an unspoken rule that one must run or at least break into a light jog and throw on a stressed facial expression (there’s also a hissing/teeth-sucking option) to fully convey the pressing nature of one’s task, be it running a memo to City Hall or sprinting to the recycle box to dispose of that grape fanta can that’s been urgently sitting on the corner of one’s desk.
-On days when I have no school, I feel guilty leaving the office at the end of my work day because I know everyone else will end up working at least a couple of hours more than me.
This list is ongoing. I will add more to it later.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wax on, trash out
I woke up this morning to the sweet melody of my blaring alarm clock, which i promptly smacked until it shut up. Every morning I have the same internal debate--do I get up early and take the trash out or is there still little enough to warrant waiting a little bit and taking it out in a couple days' time? Today the extra 15 minutes of sleep won over my need to remove waste from my house.
The reason I wait until morning to chuck the rubbish out is that my neighbourhood garbage disposal association (also known as 110-year-old women whose only purpose in life, besides refusing to obey the laws of one's own lifespan, is continued oversight of said association) has decreed that rubbish can only be disposed of in the communal trash-truck pickup area between 7 and 7:30 am because 'animals will get at it' otherwise. I highly doubt this, however. If ladies old enough to remember when Mt. Fuji was just a hill are able to catch me with a plastic bottle cap in my burnable garbage at 20 meters, then something tells me cats and birds aren't gonna have much chance getting a cheap breakfast.
Trash collection in my neighbourhood, and many throughout Japan, is draconian. It probably took me about a full month to figure out what day to throw out what garbage and then once I'd wrapped my head around that, it took me at least that long to actually work out what constitutes "plastic" or "burnable garbage"among other types--a mighty, quest-like task. To some it may appear intuitive at first glance, but according to a lady who might have been in high school during the Meiji Restoration and who thoughtfully brought my trash back to my house from down the street when my infraction proved too great to bear, plastic that says 'plastic' on it may not necessarily go in the plastic pile, subject to, of course, a complex set of variables.
In addition to these women who were probably already grandmothers during the invasion of Machuria, another important trash disposal regulator is a huge poster 'explaining' how the whole system works, down to what type of battery goes out on what day and in what container. All I know is, there's a small pile of items sitting in my apartment that, after poring over this poster, I am still unable to classify, and will thus probably remain there long after I've left. Even the stuff I'm pretty sure about, I throw in a plastic bag (it's gotta be the right colour bag, though) and then sneak around the corner, check to see if anyone's there, and if there isn't, I can breathe a small sigh of relief because if there is someone there, you can safely bet your youngest daughter that they'll be going through my trash to verify its contents the second I go back around that corner.
So anywaaaaaaay....today I avoided the ordeal and woke up with a smile on my face, showered, wolfed my cereal, and stepped out into the beautiful sunshine. It was a bit chilly, but nothing beats sunshine in a place where it's just so depressingly rare to have a day without rain. I arrived at work five minutes early (a.k.a. 15 minutes late, because this is Japan, where you come to the office early and leave never) and it was like there was a fire drill or something. Everyone was frantically moving furniture out of the office into the hallway and around the stairs. That's odd, I thought to myself. No matter, I'll just join in, and I did just that. After about 10 minutes of dragging chairs and file cabinets out into the corridor, I asked a co-worker why we were doing it and she told me that the office was going to be professionally cleaned and the floor waxed. It would take about two hours, she explained, so I could pretty much do what I wanted. Sweet, I thought. I figured I might try and meet up with Daniel at Jiri cafe and catch up a bit, but he was stuck at work, so instead I went home and did some errands, went and saw my landlord and picked up dry-cleaning. Then I returned home with about an hour to spare and switched on the ps2. It was about 10:30 am when it struck me that this was the first and probably last time I would play Grand Theft Auto 3 in a suit and tie during working hours. Ah, Monday.
After work I went and dropped off Shima's giant electric pan that we used for okonomiyaki during the weekend. As I was leaving her place with an extra spatula in hand, I almost bumped into a guy walking home from work. He struck me as familiar, so I took a second glance and saw the same inquisitive look on his face as he tried to place me. It was the mayor! I'd met him once at a cultural event. So I stammered "Mr. Mayor!"--no hello, or how are you, just a shocked "shit, it's the mayor!"--to which he responded with an equally shaky "konnichiwa...?...". Then there was the whole awkward do-i-stop-and-talk-to-him-uhoh-it's-too-late-he's-already-too-far-gone-ok-quick-break-eye-contact moment and I went home.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Business Trip
Big news! Not new news, but good news nonetheless. My Board of Education is in the planning stages of building a new combined elementary / junior high school in Kaga, and they're thinking of modeling it after a private school in Massachusetts that the Mayor of Kaga went and visited once back in 1995.
So a couple of months ago, they asked me to do some research into the school and translate the English information pamphlets they received, plus get in contact with the school on the BOE's behalf. A couple of weeks later they decided they would make a trip there to visit, and half jokingly asked me if I could go to help them out. The following week, the section chief asked me seriously if I would accompany the Superintendent of Schools and himself on what I like to call a 'fact-finding mission' to visit the school in the second week of April. I accepted, so it looks like I'm going on a business trip to Boston as an interpreter!
And who says elementary school teachers can't move up in the world...
My main job will be facilitating basic travel stuff in English for my higher-ups, who speak and understand little to no English. So I’ll handle hotel check-ins, restaurant reservations, transport, all tourist stuff, and the obvious—translating during a tour I organized of the school. We’ll spend a day and a half in Boston and then another day or so in New York City, sightseeing. So a five day trip in total—3 days on the East Coast and 2 days on the plane…which is pretty short considering how far we’re going, but these guys have a tighter schedule than I do.
The best part is that I will get to see my family (minus Lukas) for a few hours of ‘free time’ in NYC! So as long as I pack my bosses onto a Japanese bus tour (at their request, amusingly), it’ll be smooth sailing.
So a couple of months ago, they asked me to do some research into the school and translate the English information pamphlets they received, plus get in contact with the school on the BOE's behalf. A couple of weeks later they decided they would make a trip there to visit, and half jokingly asked me if I could go to help them out. The following week, the section chief asked me seriously if I would accompany the Superintendent of Schools and himself on what I like to call a 'fact-finding mission' to visit the school in the second week of April. I accepted, so it looks like I'm going on a business trip to Boston as an interpreter!
And who says elementary school teachers can't move up in the world...
My main job will be facilitating basic travel stuff in English for my higher-ups, who speak and understand little to no English. So I’ll handle hotel check-ins, restaurant reservations, transport, all tourist stuff, and the obvious—translating during a tour I organized of the school. We’ll spend a day and a half in Boston and then another day or so in New York City, sightseeing. So a five day trip in total—3 days on the East Coast and 2 days on the plane…which is pretty short considering how far we’re going, but these guys have a tighter schedule than I do.
The best part is that I will get to see my family (minus Lukas) for a few hours of ‘free time’ in NYC! So as long as I pack my bosses onto a Japanese bus tour (at their request, amusingly), it’ll be smooth sailing.
The Commode
Our office building recently did some renovations, one aspect of which included a brand spanking new restroom. Let it hereby be known: there is nothing quite like dropping your drawers and planting your behind on a throne that has never before been used. There’s a serenity to it, a perfect calm. You take comfort in the undisputable fact that no one else’s hairy tush has ever before soiled the seat of what is truly a splendid piece of defecatory engineering.
As I stepped into the recently completed bathroom (and hopefully future refuge) for the first time, I was struck by the pristine completeness. Having never before used facilities that were not hygienically dubious at best, I was left in awe at the vacuum of quiet, as though all previous restrooms had screamed their filth, while this one resonated only cleanliness. Entering the monastery-like solitude of the cubicle, the glistening, cream-tinted toilet cover beckoned me towards it. The floor was spotless. The toilet paper, never before used, hung in convenient reach, embracing its roll with a tenderness not generally associated with bathrooms of any sort.
But what impressed me most, and has continued to impress me time and time again in this strange and wonderful country, was the automatic heated seat, which on this snowy March morning was icing on the cake of what was already a truly pleasurable sojourn into pooping wonderland. Despite the abundance of such toilets—ones that don’t leave you cringing in the last moments before butt meets seat—it still remains a pleasant surprise every time.
Even while using the marvelous piece of equipment, I was aware that each consecutive use would prove gradually less extraordinary and bring it closer and closer to the filthy pestilence-ridden gas station toilet holes we all know and despise, but the knowledge that this throne of glory would unavoidably decline in grandeur, like a flower wilting in the autumn sun, simply made the experience all the more enriching.
As I stepped into the recently completed bathroom (and hopefully future refuge) for the first time, I was struck by the pristine completeness. Having never before used facilities that were not hygienically dubious at best, I was left in awe at the vacuum of quiet, as though all previous restrooms had screamed their filth, while this one resonated only cleanliness. Entering the monastery-like solitude of the cubicle, the glistening, cream-tinted toilet cover beckoned me towards it. The floor was spotless. The toilet paper, never before used, hung in convenient reach, embracing its roll with a tenderness not generally associated with bathrooms of any sort.
But what impressed me most, and has continued to impress me time and time again in this strange and wonderful country, was the automatic heated seat, which on this snowy March morning was icing on the cake of what was already a truly pleasurable sojourn into pooping wonderland. Despite the abundance of such toilets—ones that don’t leave you cringing in the last moments before butt meets seat—it still remains a pleasant surprise every time.
Even while using the marvelous piece of equipment, I was aware that each consecutive use would prove gradually less extraordinary and bring it closer and closer to the filthy pestilence-ridden gas station toilet holes we all know and despise, but the knowledge that this throne of glory would unavoidably decline in grandeur, like a flower wilting in the autumn sun, simply made the experience all the more enriching.
Monday, March 23, 2009
End of the Semester
Within days of finishing classes for the semester, I was standing at Amagozen bus stop with a return bus ticket to Nagoya in one hand and a plane ticket to Seoul in the other.
But first—just to rewind a moment—let’s go back to the final two weeks of school. With 6th grade graduation ceremonies looming, English lessons were winding down for the year. By this point, we had covered virtually everything in the informal syllabus that dictates the elementary school English education system in Kaga City. Little Kenji now knew the difference between a ‘giraffe’ and a ‘zebra’ and Kumiko could confidently count from 1 to 60 (excluding 11 and 12, which as we know are impossible to remember).
But because I go to so many schools, I had my ‘last day of class’ for maybe two consecutive weeks. What I didn’t expect, though, was the overwhelming gratitude I got from students and teachers. A lot of students had organized thank-you-notes which they presented to me and some even did musical performances (which were meant for 6th grade graduation ceremonies, but never hurts to practice on the foreigner). Some students made me presents, but most wrote me animated little letters that went along the lines of, “Mike-sensei, thank you for teaching me English. Even though I don’t really like it, thanks to you, I can name colours and fruits.” The best part is that, more than my actual bosses and team teachers, these kids are too young to mince words, so I got a fairly comprehensive job appraisal out of it. It was sweet of them to write me letters, and now I have pictures and stacks of notes all around my desk space. One school even gave me a bouquet of flowers as though I were departing the school forever and thanked me publicly in the teachers office.
My review classes generally involved me carting in all of the flashcards, posters, props, and other materials covered during the term and doing a rapid-fire review of everything. After that we would get on to the fun stuff, which was usually comprehension quiz game show-type activity or some other review game. Vocabulary and grammar differed depending on grade level. Results were mixed. Some exceptional classes were able to rattle off everything they’d studied as if they’d learned it yesterday, while others acted like it was the first time they’d ever heard of it. I think most of the students learned something, though, whether they know it or not.
But first—just to rewind a moment—let’s go back to the final two weeks of school. With 6th grade graduation ceremonies looming, English lessons were winding down for the year. By this point, we had covered virtually everything in the informal syllabus that dictates the elementary school English education system in Kaga City. Little Kenji now knew the difference between a ‘giraffe’ and a ‘zebra’ and Kumiko could confidently count from 1 to 60 (excluding 11 and 12, which as we know are impossible to remember).
But because I go to so many schools, I had my ‘last day of class’ for maybe two consecutive weeks. What I didn’t expect, though, was the overwhelming gratitude I got from students and teachers. A lot of students had organized thank-you-notes which they presented to me and some even did musical performances (which were meant for 6th grade graduation ceremonies, but never hurts to practice on the foreigner). Some students made me presents, but most wrote me animated little letters that went along the lines of, “Mike-sensei, thank you for teaching me English. Even though I don’t really like it, thanks to you, I can name colours and fruits.” The best part is that, more than my actual bosses and team teachers, these kids are too young to mince words, so I got a fairly comprehensive job appraisal out of it. It was sweet of them to write me letters, and now I have pictures and stacks of notes all around my desk space. One school even gave me a bouquet of flowers as though I were departing the school forever and thanked me publicly in the teachers office.
My review classes generally involved me carting in all of the flashcards, posters, props, and other materials covered during the term and doing a rapid-fire review of everything. After that we would get on to the fun stuff, which was usually comprehension quiz game show-type activity or some other review game. Vocabulary and grammar differed depending on grade level. Results were mixed. Some exceptional classes were able to rattle off everything they’d studied as if they’d learned it yesterday, while others acted like it was the first time they’d ever heard of it. I think most of the students learned something, though, whether they know it or not.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Skiing at SENA
This weekend I went skiing with my buddy Kuni. We got up at dawn and drove to Hakusan City, where a bunch of ski slopes are located. We ended up deciding on Sena, which was pretty good as far as size and difficulty are concerned, but there wasn’t a lot of snow and in patches it was already giving way to solid ground beneath.
We started nice and early, and already there were throngs of people getting set up for a day on the slopes. I was able to borrow a lot of equipment from people, but I ended up renting ski boots. I’ve skiied enough in the past, but on Sunday I decided to try short skis, which as the name suggests are pretty short and don’t have poles to go with them. If you ski a lot, you’ll see a lot of kids going straight down ski hills on them.
Anyway, it was my first time on these, and when all’s said and done they weren’t that different from regular skis. It was a bit more leg-intensive, because you didn’t have poles to help out, and it was also a bit more difficult to brake cuz the length of the skis are shorter. You also feel bumps more and end up being pretty susceptible to ice patches, but I didn’t really fall at all and it was super easy to stay on them. It was a bit like skating down the hill. Kuni was snowboarding, which he’d done for 14 years, so he whipped down the hill, but I kept up ok. I think next season I’ll try out snowboarding, just so I can say I’ve done it, but if it takes forever to get the hang of, I’m switching back to regular skis.
Not surprisingly, I bumped into people I knew, despite the ski slope being nowhere near where I live. I met a teacher I work with at one of my elementary schools, and then later a few more teachers from various schools, plus a couple of students, who were of course mortified to have seen me in public. Yesterday at school a little second grader who I’d never spoken to before yelled “Hey, English teacher!” and then proceeded to tell me how she’d seen me skiing on the weekend. Unbelievable how connected everything really is. If I pick my nose in the dark I’m likely to hear about it at school.
During the day, Kuni and I also bumped into some Russian grad students who were doing their theses at a university in Kanazawa. Their level of spoken Japanese was next to perfect, and because it was the language we all had in common we ended up communicating predominantly in Japanese, but it was a little weird talking to white people in Japanese and not English.
In other Kuni-related news, I might be starting a private tutoring gig. Kuni’s English is impressive enough but his daughter’s language skills are shoddy at best, which in Kuni’s mind means there’s a lot of room for improvement. Also, she’s 3 years old. But when you show up in an English-speaking country and can’t open a bank account or book a plane ticket, age alone isn’t going to save you.
So Kuni and I worked it out that if I come over an hour a week or so to play with his daughter and a couple of other toddlers in a purely English environment, they’re bound to pick some of it up pretty quick. Plus I’d get free dinner! So that’s probably going to happen starting in March.
We started nice and early, and already there were throngs of people getting set up for a day on the slopes. I was able to borrow a lot of equipment from people, but I ended up renting ski boots. I’ve skiied enough in the past, but on Sunday I decided to try short skis, which as the name suggests are pretty short and don’t have poles to go with them. If you ski a lot, you’ll see a lot of kids going straight down ski hills on them.
Anyway, it was my first time on these, and when all’s said and done they weren’t that different from regular skis. It was a bit more leg-intensive, because you didn’t have poles to help out, and it was also a bit more difficult to brake cuz the length of the skis are shorter. You also feel bumps more and end up being pretty susceptible to ice patches, but I didn’t really fall at all and it was super easy to stay on them. It was a bit like skating down the hill. Kuni was snowboarding, which he’d done for 14 years, so he whipped down the hill, but I kept up ok. I think next season I’ll try out snowboarding, just so I can say I’ve done it, but if it takes forever to get the hang of, I’m switching back to regular skis.
Not surprisingly, I bumped into people I knew, despite the ski slope being nowhere near where I live. I met a teacher I work with at one of my elementary schools, and then later a few more teachers from various schools, plus a couple of students, who were of course mortified to have seen me in public. Yesterday at school a little second grader who I’d never spoken to before yelled “Hey, English teacher!” and then proceeded to tell me how she’d seen me skiing on the weekend. Unbelievable how connected everything really is. If I pick my nose in the dark I’m likely to hear about it at school.
During the day, Kuni and I also bumped into some Russian grad students who were doing their theses at a university in Kanazawa. Their level of spoken Japanese was next to perfect, and because it was the language we all had in common we ended up communicating predominantly in Japanese, but it was a little weird talking to white people in Japanese and not English.
In other Kuni-related news, I might be starting a private tutoring gig. Kuni’s English is impressive enough but his daughter’s language skills are shoddy at best, which in Kuni’s mind means there’s a lot of room for improvement. Also, she’s 3 years old. But when you show up in an English-speaking country and can’t open a bank account or book a plane ticket, age alone isn’t going to save you.
So Kuni and I worked it out that if I come over an hour a week or so to play with his daughter and a couple of other toddlers in a purely English environment, they’re bound to pick some of it up pretty quick. Plus I’d get free dinner! So that’s probably going to happen starting in March.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Dai-snow-ji
Today was a good day. It was one of those days where I felt like I had a purpose being here; where I had no doubt in my mind that I made the right decision moving to Japan. Actually, in almost every sense it was a regular day--nothing really spectacular of note--but it was completely satisfying. Some days you go home feeling like you coulda done something better or had a different attitude, but this was like baby bear's bowl of porridge--juuuuust right.
That's also the first and last time I'll ever make a goldilocks reference in writing.
So anyway, got up at dawn and it was still snowing from the day before. Over the weekend, it dropped from a record 19 degrees to -2 this morning. Showered, got dressed, threw on my kanji tie, ate breakfast, and then headed out to meet my ride at APIC, the local mini-strip mall (...?).
When we got to school (junior high) the kids were all really friendly. It had been snowing sideways so the scenery through the windows of the school was completely white. It really reminded me of Canada, especially with the near-constant drivel of snow/hail/snow & hail covering everything.
I "taught" two 3rd grade classes (15 year-olds) jeopardy, which was awesome, cuz they have great english AND they were in to it, which is a huge plus. I love how 15 year-olds still love getting cute lil stickers as prizes. Kids were talking to me after class (i.e. "I saw you walking out near city hall 5 days ago!!!" and stuff) and in the hallways, and I even had a "conversation" with one girl who is taking an english proficiency test on the weekend. It was hilarious how nervous she was. I told her, "Look, you live in the countryside. Talking to a real-life foreigner is a great chance to work on your english. So let's chat: what's your favourite colour?...", and then moved on to other equally sophisticated topics.
I also did the special ed class, where the kids are always horrifically behaved, but they're awesome outside of class--they just hate the structure of learning lol. So I buttered them up with cool Canada souvenir pencils, and they were still horrible, but I did reach a couple and we were able to really get on with the activity more than I've been able to in the past.
After work I went to my language club, which is always a blast, and drilled one of the members on answers to english questions that they'll get asked by Americans when abroad (like, "so, are you chinese?" or "how come you're not wearing a kimono?").
Afterwards I made my way home in the quiet, dark Daishoji night, threw snowballs at some people, ate some ice cream, and here I am now. This is the life.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Happy (late) New Year!
Wow, it’s been a while since I last posted something worth posting. Time to catch up a little. This will be a monster post.
Firstly, Happy New Year! Out with the old, in with the new. For me, that means getting rid of the spare tire I’m beginning to grow around my mid-section. ‘Why have a six pack when you can have a keg?’ gets thrown around from time to time, but despite a certain charm that my alarmingly quick descent into love handle hell has in the cold winter months, I remain a firm believer in the principle that if you roll sideways out of your futon onto the cold floor every morning because sitting up is too much effort, it’s time to get some exercise.
That’s about the extent of my New Year’s resolutions. I attribute a large part of my present predicament to my recent gastronomical adventures in Hong Kong, but before that I’ll quickly recap December.
Work-wise, December wasn’t too intense. The holidays were looming, so most of my lessons were Christmas-oriented. At junior high school, this entailed discussing some of the cultural traditions we have in the West, comparing and contrasting those with Japanese commercial, nonreligious, KFC Christmas dinner-eating customs. At elementary school, it meant going through the exact mechanics of how Santa goes down the chimney and what happens to kids whose parents were foolish enough to buy a house without one—all done in conjunction with about a million Christmas pictures and props to really press the point home that not only does Santa exist, he’s weirder than we ever previously imagined.
About mid-December, I got pretty sick with a nasty cold that kept me home for two days, but I figure it was a good investment, because now my immune system is strengthened, making me invincible for the rest of the winter. Right…? Oh, here’s a cultural tip: in Japan, when someone becomes ill or wishes to prevent becoming ill, he or she wears a mask, much like people in Asia did when SARS broke out. So while I was initially shocked, wondering what kind of plague had been released, I have become used to seeing dozens of people wearing masks every day and even wear them myself when I or people around me become ill.
On to the fun bit: on December 23rd I went to Hong Kong and took a much-needed break from work. I took a kind of limo-taxi service all the way from my house in Daishoji to Kansai International Airport outside of Osaka, and then took an early flight to HK. Upon arriving, I met up with my Osakian friend Takashi and together we went off in search of our hostel. Turns out that despite our initial reservations about booking a sketchy place (lol get it?? ‘reservations’??? as in ‘hang-ups’?) for several days, it was not only in a prime location in Kowloon where we had convenient access to hand-bag peddling Indian street vendors, the twin room we got put up in was actually pretty decent. The first night we went out and found ourselves some Macaenese food, including their world famous egg tarts.
The following day we got up and went out to meet Geoff, who I hadn’t seen since Hawaii in May and who had also arrived from Vancouver the previous day. After wandering around a park (and very nearly a mosque) we finally found Geoff at the Tsim Sha Tsui MTR station and the three of us headed off to the water. By mid-day it was already plenty warm—a balmy 20-degree December day—so we decided to make our way along the star walk by the bay. Hong Kong was definitely hazier than I expected it to be, but there was still a pretty sweet view of the boats in the water and the skyscrapers across on the island.
After that we hit up a museum to get the lowdown on Hong Kong’s history (apparently it used to be a British colony…?), and then basically bummed around Kowloon while the weather was still nice. That night, it being Christmas Eve and all, we strolled down Nathan Road, one of HK’s busiest streets, and found ourselves an outdoor table at a nice restaurant from which we could easily observe the thousands of people walking along the closed-off streets. Perhaps prompted by some of the things we’d seen in the museum that day, Christmas dinner was permeated by discussions of the Pacific War and a 3-hour debate about the present Japanese generation’s responsibilities. It was a bit sobering and not exactly timely, but still interesting. While Geoff made his way across to Clearwater Bay, Takashi and I walked around enjoying the Christmas light show and hit up an irish bar, where a proper trio were singing carols. Everyone was required to join in. It was a fun night.
The next day we met up with Geoff again and took a ferry to Macau. Macau was awesome! Some say it’s pretty much the same as HK, but I found it to be pretty distinctive, especially architecture-wise. There were a lot more cobbled streets and south European-styled buildings fused with the idiosyncratic air of ‘China’. We rushed around the first evening to see as much as we could before dark, but turns out that Macau is in fact best experienced at night anyway. With the casinos exploding with their characteristic modern glory, Christmas banners hung espousing Portuguese messages of good will, and weird holographic images dancing on the waterfront, it was the place to be. After visiting the ruins of St. Paul’s Cathedral and seeing the old fortress overlooking the city, we ate some Chinese food, stopped by the Grand Lisboa casino to check out the tables (but not gamble cuz we didn’t have the cash), and then made our way to a faraway tower that boasts an awesome view of the city from high up. Unfortunately it closed right before we got there, but it wasn’t a complete waste, cuz they had a movie theatre where we ended up watching that Keanu Reeves movie where he’s an alien that wants to destroy the world but then inexplicably doesn’t.
The next morning, we did a self-guided tour of Macau’s historic area, but only after Geoff was propositioned by an old hooker at a casino after exchanging money. It really resembled Europe a lot more than Asia (the historic district, not the prostitute). Our Filipina hostel owner had given us some tips on where to go, and it was worth the extra few hours. We left by ferry to go back to HK that afternoon and a day later Takashi and I moved to a new hostel on the remote top of a mountain on HK Island. We were joined by Takashi’s buddy, Minami, who chilled with us the rest of the trip. The hostel we were staying at was meant to be the least dodgy of the places where we stayed but it ended up having the worst services and quality, compounded by how remote it was. On the bright side, the inevitable hike down the mountain to the nearest bus stop every morning at least helped stave off the ill effects of eating too much Chinese food every day. Needless to stay, I didn’t spend much time at the hostel, and when I did, it was only to have the odd fitful night’s sleep or cold shower.
The next day, while we were waiting for contact from Josh or Jane, Geoff and I went to Clearwater Bay, where he was staying in a residence of the uni that he used to work at. When we finally did meet up with Jane, the first thing we did was eat dinner at a toilet-themed restaurant, which featured drink-receptacle urinals, toilets for seats, and chocolate “poop” ice cream presented on a squat toilet bowl of real ceramic. Real top-notch stuff.
The next day the group met up in Central where we were joined by Josh. This effectively completed my HK dream—>the Kingston housemates (eses for those who know) were finally reunited—but in Asia! We spent the day eating dim sum, drinking bubble tea, eating some more, take the ferry and double decker trams all over the place, eating some more, trying to get into convention centres that were closed, and checking out markets and malls around the island. That night we hit up a hookah bar in the ‘fun’ district and proceeded to asphyxiate ourselves for the next few hours—>this proved pretty successful.
The rest of the trip was more or less along those lines. I got to finally meet Mrs. Chan, who I’d had loads of conversations with back in school, I got a ride in my first chauffered Rolls Royce, I ate food all day everyday, I met tons more Saints kids (no surprise there—I’ve probably met half of Josh and Geoff’s graduating class) and had a kick-ass New Years out by the water watching the fireworks erupt from the top of the IFC building. The only things I didn’t really get to do were go to Repulse Bay or check out Lantau Island in any depth. Oh, and I also didn’t manage to get the visa necessary to cross the border into China, but Takashi and Minami were able to. We joked that they would be mugged and wake up in a bathtub full of ice with no kidneys, liver, or heart, but they came back fine.
All in all, it was a sweet trip. In fact, it really couldn’t have been better. Hong Kong is a great place to go, especially for food, shopping and warm weather. Plus it has maybe the best public transport system I’ve ever experienced. Coupled with the ‘Octopus Card’, which you can top up with money and use instead of cash all over the city, the lifestyle is pretty convenient. But more than all that, it was great to hang out with all the people I haven’t seen in so long.
Firstly, Happy New Year! Out with the old, in with the new. For me, that means getting rid of the spare tire I’m beginning to grow around my mid-section. ‘Why have a six pack when you can have a keg?’ gets thrown around from time to time, but despite a certain charm that my alarmingly quick descent into love handle hell has in the cold winter months, I remain a firm believer in the principle that if you roll sideways out of your futon onto the cold floor every morning because sitting up is too much effort, it’s time to get some exercise.
That’s about the extent of my New Year’s resolutions. I attribute a large part of my present predicament to my recent gastronomical adventures in Hong Kong, but before that I’ll quickly recap December.
Work-wise, December wasn’t too intense. The holidays were looming, so most of my lessons were Christmas-oriented. At junior high school, this entailed discussing some of the cultural traditions we have in the West, comparing and contrasting those with Japanese commercial, nonreligious, KFC Christmas dinner-eating customs. At elementary school, it meant going through the exact mechanics of how Santa goes down the chimney and what happens to kids whose parents were foolish enough to buy a house without one—all done in conjunction with about a million Christmas pictures and props to really press the point home that not only does Santa exist, he’s weirder than we ever previously imagined.
About mid-December, I got pretty sick with a nasty cold that kept me home for two days, but I figure it was a good investment, because now my immune system is strengthened, making me invincible for the rest of the winter. Right…? Oh, here’s a cultural tip: in Japan, when someone becomes ill or wishes to prevent becoming ill, he or she wears a mask, much like people in Asia did when SARS broke out. So while I was initially shocked, wondering what kind of plague had been released, I have become used to seeing dozens of people wearing masks every day and even wear them myself when I or people around me become ill.
On to the fun bit: on December 23rd I went to Hong Kong and took a much-needed break from work. I took a kind of limo-taxi service all the way from my house in Daishoji to Kansai International Airport outside of Osaka, and then took an early flight to HK. Upon arriving, I met up with my Osakian friend Takashi and together we went off in search of our hostel. Turns out that despite our initial reservations about booking a sketchy place (lol get it?? ‘reservations’??? as in ‘hang-ups’?) for several days, it was not only in a prime location in Kowloon where we had convenient access to hand-bag peddling Indian street vendors, the twin room we got put up in was actually pretty decent. The first night we went out and found ourselves some Macaenese food, including their world famous egg tarts.
The following day we got up and went out to meet Geoff, who I hadn’t seen since Hawaii in May and who had also arrived from Vancouver the previous day. After wandering around a park (and very nearly a mosque) we finally found Geoff at the Tsim Sha Tsui MTR station and the three of us headed off to the water. By mid-day it was already plenty warm—a balmy 20-degree December day—so we decided to make our way along the star walk by the bay. Hong Kong was definitely hazier than I expected it to be, but there was still a pretty sweet view of the boats in the water and the skyscrapers across on the island.
After that we hit up a museum to get the lowdown on Hong Kong’s history (apparently it used to be a British colony…?), and then basically bummed around Kowloon while the weather was still nice. That night, it being Christmas Eve and all, we strolled down Nathan Road, one of HK’s busiest streets, and found ourselves an outdoor table at a nice restaurant from which we could easily observe the thousands of people walking along the closed-off streets. Perhaps prompted by some of the things we’d seen in the museum that day, Christmas dinner was permeated by discussions of the Pacific War and a 3-hour debate about the present Japanese generation’s responsibilities. It was a bit sobering and not exactly timely, but still interesting. While Geoff made his way across to Clearwater Bay, Takashi and I walked around enjoying the Christmas light show and hit up an irish bar, where a proper trio were singing carols. Everyone was required to join in. It was a fun night.
The next day we met up with Geoff again and took a ferry to Macau. Macau was awesome! Some say it’s pretty much the same as HK, but I found it to be pretty distinctive, especially architecture-wise. There were a lot more cobbled streets and south European-styled buildings fused with the idiosyncratic air of ‘China’. We rushed around the first evening to see as much as we could before dark, but turns out that Macau is in fact best experienced at night anyway. With the casinos exploding with their characteristic modern glory, Christmas banners hung espousing Portuguese messages of good will, and weird holographic images dancing on the waterfront, it was the place to be. After visiting the ruins of St. Paul’s Cathedral and seeing the old fortress overlooking the city, we ate some Chinese food, stopped by the Grand Lisboa casino to check out the tables (but not gamble cuz we didn’t have the cash), and then made our way to a faraway tower that boasts an awesome view of the city from high up. Unfortunately it closed right before we got there, but it wasn’t a complete waste, cuz they had a movie theatre where we ended up watching that Keanu Reeves movie where he’s an alien that wants to destroy the world but then inexplicably doesn’t.
The next morning, we did a self-guided tour of Macau’s historic area, but only after Geoff was propositioned by an old hooker at a casino after exchanging money. It really resembled Europe a lot more than Asia (the historic district, not the prostitute). Our Filipina hostel owner had given us some tips on where to go, and it was worth the extra few hours. We left by ferry to go back to HK that afternoon and a day later Takashi and I moved to a new hostel on the remote top of a mountain on HK Island. We were joined by Takashi’s buddy, Minami, who chilled with us the rest of the trip. The hostel we were staying at was meant to be the least dodgy of the places where we stayed but it ended up having the worst services and quality, compounded by how remote it was. On the bright side, the inevitable hike down the mountain to the nearest bus stop every morning at least helped stave off the ill effects of eating too much Chinese food every day. Needless to stay, I didn’t spend much time at the hostel, and when I did, it was only to have the odd fitful night’s sleep or cold shower.
The next day, while we were waiting for contact from Josh or Jane, Geoff and I went to Clearwater Bay, where he was staying in a residence of the uni that he used to work at. When we finally did meet up with Jane, the first thing we did was eat dinner at a toilet-themed restaurant, which featured drink-receptacle urinals, toilets for seats, and chocolate “poop” ice cream presented on a squat toilet bowl of real ceramic. Real top-notch stuff.
The next day the group met up in Central where we were joined by Josh. This effectively completed my HK dream—>the Kingston housemates (eses for those who know) were finally reunited—but in Asia! We spent the day eating dim sum, drinking bubble tea, eating some more, take the ferry and double decker trams all over the place, eating some more, trying to get into convention centres that were closed, and checking out markets and malls around the island. That night we hit up a hookah bar in the ‘fun’ district and proceeded to asphyxiate ourselves for the next few hours—>this proved pretty successful.
The rest of the trip was more or less along those lines. I got to finally meet Mrs. Chan, who I’d had loads of conversations with back in school, I got a ride in my first chauffered Rolls Royce, I ate food all day everyday, I met tons more Saints kids (no surprise there—I’ve probably met half of Josh and Geoff’s graduating class) and had a kick-ass New Years out by the water watching the fireworks erupt from the top of the IFC building. The only things I didn’t really get to do were go to Repulse Bay or check out Lantau Island in any depth. Oh, and I also didn’t manage to get the visa necessary to cross the border into China, but Takashi and Minami were able to. We joked that they would be mugged and wake up in a bathtub full of ice with no kidneys, liver, or heart, but they came back fine.
All in all, it was a sweet trip. In fact, it really couldn’t have been better. Hong Kong is a great place to go, especially for food, shopping and warm weather. Plus it has maybe the best public transport system I’ve ever experienced. Coupled with the ‘Octopus Card’, which you can top up with money and use instead of cash all over the city, the lifestyle is pretty convenient. But more than all that, it was great to hang out with all the people I haven’t seen in so long.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I'm Really Good at English
Yesterday was a good day. It began with me going back to school for the first time since winter break. I went to one of my larger elementary schools and taught three classes of 6th graders and two classes of third graders. My 3rd graders are energetic and motivated but almost impossible to control, while my 6th graders usually lack in energy but are surprisingly willing to participate and learn something new, despite being the “big kids on campus”. In a couple of months they’ll graduate and move on to junior high school I don’t teach at (one of the few). They’re bright for the most part, with a couple of English prodigies thrown in the mix, and I often cover more material with them in one day than I do with older, “smarter” junior high school kids in a month.
After school finished, I went back to the BOE for a couple of hours and worked on a running project with the head of the General Affairs Department. The City’s in the planning stages of building a new school that’s modeled after a private school in Boston, which means I’m doing some information translation and correspondence with the American school in question on behalf of the mayor of Kaga. My day-to-day routine is great, but from time to time I need a break from parroting sports and animal vocabulary, so the chance to put my (comparatively) amazing English fluency to use and be involved in an international educational undertaking of this sort is pretty sweet.
The English expertise didn’t stop there, though. After work I went to my weekly Hippo Family Club meeting, which involves a group of people who live in the area that meet regurarly to practice language skills, including everything from Portuguese to Cantonese. There, one of the members’ daughter had brought her application to do an exchange year in an American high school. English specialist that I am, I took one look at the forms and helped them shore up their free response sections so that even the most doubt-filled cynic will have no choice but to let the daughter go to the U.S. With a little review of basic slang, and some caution on what curse words to watch out for, she should be golden.
After school finished, I went back to the BOE for a couple of hours and worked on a running project with the head of the General Affairs Department. The City’s in the planning stages of building a new school that’s modeled after a private school in Boston, which means I’m doing some information translation and correspondence with the American school in question on behalf of the mayor of Kaga. My day-to-day routine is great, but from time to time I need a break from parroting sports and animal vocabulary, so the chance to put my (comparatively) amazing English fluency to use and be involved in an international educational undertaking of this sort is pretty sweet.
The English expertise didn’t stop there, though. After work I went to my weekly Hippo Family Club meeting, which involves a group of people who live in the area that meet regurarly to practice language skills, including everything from Portuguese to Cantonese. There, one of the members’ daughter had brought her application to do an exchange year in an American high school. English specialist that I am, I took one look at the forms and helped them shore up their free response sections so that even the most doubt-filled cynic will have no choice but to let the daughter go to the U.S. With a little review of basic slang, and some caution on what curse words to watch out for, she should be golden.
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