not in kansas anymore

You know that awkward, first day at a newschool feeling? In theory, you know what you’re in for: Being with a new group of students and teachers, a new schedule, and new environment. It’s all the same, but slightly different than before, so even though you’ve done this whole ‘school’ thing before, you still don’t quite know what to expect.

Turns out, even though my school days are well behind me, I still can’t shake that feeling. I’m sure it doesn’t really help either that my workplace also just happens to be a school.

After working at a handful of schools, I thought I had this English teaching thing down. Knowledge of what the present participle is? Check. Handful of games and lesson ideas that incorporate some form of grammar point? Check. Ability to deflect boys’ inappropriate questions (and also their anal-probing fingers)? Check.

What I forgot to prepare for though, wasthe fact that I’m now teaching in Osaka. I’m out of the quaint little town in Gifu and into one of the largest cities in Japan. Despite living in Melbourne, I feel like a country bumpkin who has moved to the big smoke. I’m absolutely swamped with students – 13 classes of 40 students as opposed to 6 classes of 35– and feel it’s even more impossible now to remember the sheer number of students' names. As a result of more classes, it also means I see each class only once aweek, some every fortnight, which also has resulted in me taking charge of the whole lesson to compensate. I know I can do the assisting part of the Assistant Language Teacher thing, but teaching? For a whole lesson? In my old school, sure I took charge of classes, but it was more like elective classes and when the English teacher was away – I was responsible, but at the same time, I wasn’t completely responsible in the event that no work was actually done.

Everything I did learn about Japanese schools may have also been only applicable to my schools in Gifu, too. I got the weirdest looks after asking what junior high school festival was, since it never really happened in Gifu. Chalk it up to paranoia, maybe, but I swear there was a slight condescending tone when I asked if the students ate kyushoku, or the school lunch. “Oh, how quaint. You had kyushoku at junior high in Gifu. We only have that in preschools and primary schools. You know, just for the little kids.” 


Okay, maybe they didn't say that, but I knew they were thinking it. I could tell by their looks. 

an ikea lover's dream

This would be a post showing you pictures of everything in my place, but seeing the lack of anything in my apartment, it seems pictures aren't really necessary. That, plus it's not the largest place in the world - my apartment in Gifu seems like a mansion in comparison. Not that I'm too overly upset about it - I guess it's the price you pay when you're actually close to a major city in Japan, and your train station is literally only a few stops away from the city centre. And yes, the fact I'm starting from scratch with a newly-rented apartment (and not inheriting a bunch of stuff from numerous previous English teachers) means just about every day I'm spending a good chunk of money to buy something that my apartment needs. I'm pretty much only limited by what fits in my bike basket, or up until yesterday, what I could carry home from the station. 

Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, it does give me the freedom to furnish and design my apartment the way I want. Also, while my apartment isn't the most spacious, I'm fortunate enough to be living in a country that is well-versed in space efficiency. I don't have room for a dish-drying rack beside my sink, but not to worry, as apparently they make overhanging dish-drying shelves. 

I also just heard that one of Ikea's few Japanese stores is in Osaka, so I am thinking fulfilling my dream of designing a room straight out of an Ikea catalogue. Yep, I know - who said you can't dream big?

japan take two

As evidenced by the lack of posts on this blog, I've struggled to find things that were noteworthy enough to write about coming back to Melbourne. As much as there is in Melbourne, it just doesn't seem as exciting after living in a foreign country where buying groceries in a different language seemed like an adventure. And while I do appreciate the extensive varieties of cheese and bread on offer at supermarkets, I just don't feel 'Coles' and 'adventure' belong in the same sentence. 

But, in theory, this whole blogging deficiency is about to change. Despite deciding to come back to Melbourne this time last year after tiring of the feeling of starting again that came every year teaching English in Japan, I'm packing my life up and heading there yet again. Am I crazy? Yeah, probably a little. But this year back home and with friends have really put things in perspective. Sure my friends are awesome, and Melbourne really is the place to be, it just might not be the place for me at the moment. The jobs that I really want are few and far between, and involve Japan in some way or another. On top of that, those jobs are also looking for native-like fluency in Japanese, which I still feel isn't where I want it to be. So, all signs seem to point to Japan a second time around. 

While I can't guarantee more adventures that will equal discovering Jesus, or even days at work that are as traumatic memorable as before, my fingers are crossed that at the very least, it involves more food adventures and of course, the resumption of my favourite pastime. 

two little pigs

I know this shouldn't come to a shock to people who know me, but I like food. A lot. So, after taking a photo of the upteenth coffee while out with friends, I decided to listen to their suggestion and start another blog to focus on food... um... moreso than this one. Here's a post from that blog, eat-a-ducky. They'll be less blog copying and pasting from now on though, I promise. 

In two days time, people all over the world will be surrounded by friends and family and enjoying each other's company in this festive time of the year. And presumably, this will also involve my favourite pastime: food. It's the only time of the year where it's not just justified, but expected of people to gorge themselves on a week's worth of food in a single sitting. For many, this involves Christmas ham or turkey. And for the lucky few, it involves turducken.

In our house, however, we somehow acquired the tradition of half a Chinese roast pig. I'm not sure how it started, but according to the legends (i.e. my dad), someone got sick of the inevitable ham-leftover meals and decided to order a pig from a Chinese restaurant. It turned out to be a resounding success, and now, my family spends most of the year fantasizing about the next Christmas pig. Family gatherings will inevitably lead to discussion of how much pork will be consumed, which family members are letting the team down (the dreaded salad eaters), and the next generation of rising stars.

So when my mum ordered a whole piglet two years ago, we were a little more than excited. Could our family be able to completely devour a whole animal in a single sitting, or would this little piggy get the better of us? For us, this was our Everest. Sure, we can't run that fast, and we're far off from creating the facebook, but we can damn well eat.

And after marathon seating over lunchinnerupper, we finally did it. There were obstacles to overcome (lettuce-munching cousin, I'm looking at you), but it was an incredible exhibition of teamwork at our dinner table. When my brother was finally overcome with meat sweats, or my cousins couldn't stand any more pork crackling, those on the bench got their second or third wind, piled it onto their plates and soldiered on. My dad and my uncle valiantly fought over the the scraps of pig that the others couldn't stomach. Our motley crew of 12 managed to finish that whole pig once and for all. We could all go home with our heads held high.

Family: 1, Roast Pig: 0

Our sense of self-satisfaction didn't last very long though.Returning home from our relative's place with smug, satisfied looks on our faces, my mum mentions there's one more surprise this Christmas. "I know how much you guys love roast pig, but isn't it bad that you can't eat as much pork as you want because your cousins eat most of it? That's why I ordered two pigs! One just for us!"

I looked at the pig sitting on our dining room table and my heart sank. It felt like some terrible teen horror movie where you think the bad guy has died, only to find it calmly waiting in the darkened living room.

Let's hope this year doesn't require calling for reinforcements (read: hungry friends) to finish the job. I guess as much as I love Christmas food, even I have my limits.  

belated gastronomic adventures

Thai Basil Chicken "Ga Prow" inspired burger-
Chicken patty, lettuce, roasted capsicum with basil stir-fry sauce and egg in a Turkish bread roll.

I used to pride myself in liking food more than the average person. But now? I'm not so sure. Turns out, while I was away in Japan, someone took my two favourite pastimes - food and reality TV - combined them, and created one of the hugest trends in Australia in the last few years. I still can't believe that a cooking show forced the Australian federal election to be rescheduled to avoid competing for TV ratings.

I guess for everyone else in Australia, they may not have noticed this change, but after an extended absence, the change is so drastic it feels like it's just being dangled right in front of my face. I left Melbourne thinking I knew a bit about food since I knew how to bake chocolate chip cookies, but now I'm meeting people who know how to temper chocolate. And I had no idea scooping ice cream could actually become outdated. Scoops of ice cream with whipped cream, wafer, and cherry on top? Pfft, please. That is so 2000 and late. More like quenelles of vanilla-bean ice cream served with crème chantilly, cherry compôte, and almond tuile.

Gingerbread + Snickerdoodles = I'm a genius.
Or, so I thought until I googled "gingerdoodles" five minutes ago.

Don't get me wrong; vanilla bean ice cream and almond tuiles sound awesome, but I just can't believe this has happened in my absence. And now, thanks to my current employment status, I've got the time to make Heston Blumenthal's ridiculously simple chocolate mousse, and my own experiments with food (gingerdoodles anyone?), but no shows to watch to give me new (and probably more original) recipes to try out. Sure, due to their booming popularity, they'll probably be back in 2011, but will everyone be over the bandwagon just as I'm hopping on?

nectarine-shu

So, needless to say, judging by my regular involvement with Japanese conversation nights, deciding prospective employment based on whether it involves Japanese, and the fact I find myself watching Japanese cowboy movies, it's safe to say I'm still not over Japan.

I really did try to prepare for this. Knowing my life in Melbourne would be devoid of 100 yen goods, quality stationery, ubiquitous convenience stores filled with seasonal confectionery, and cheap karaoke, I stocked up on pens, consumed every type of Kit Kat imaginable, and sang my arse off. By the time I got to Tokyo, I was in full "don't know the next time I'll be here" mode, and making sure there was no butter-flavoured chip unbought, and no sushi uneaten. Sure, my last sushi meal in Tokyo was like $60, but when else would I be able to food this fresh, and eat uni straight from its shell?

And sure, to some extent it worked; I don't really have much of an urge to eat raw fish on rice, and I've definitely OD'ed on Kit Kats - I've still got a couple sakura green tea flavoured Kit Kats in my pantry that I have no urge to eat. But there's one thing I do miss probably more than the adequate amount.

Umeshu. With a lack of mixed spirits available, and not being the biggest fan of sake, it was my other option when I wasn't feeling like beer. It was the drink of chilled Friday nights at home with friends, and my drink of choice at karaoke. I sampled it all around Japan - the Shikwasa umeshu down south in Okinawa, the red-shiso type in Nagano, and sipped some locally-produced ones after a long day of snow festival-ing in Hokkaido. It's the drink I associate with Japan - nay, it's the drink I associate with the last few years.

Yes, I know this makes me sound like a raging alcoholic, but my point is, I like this drink, and am still trying to fathom how I can still enjoy it in Melbourne for $35 when it used to cost me less than $5. I did try to bring some back, but because of duty free alcohol limits, it was less than I wanted. It doesn't help as well I have this issue with trying to ration things, in which I essentially don't use or eat things for fear of using them up, but end up never using them at all, or find the food's expired before I've even sampled it. It's for this same reason I blu-tack stickers on things rather than, well, stick them - I'm paranoid I'll have a sticker emergency and will actually need to use that sticker properly later.

Anyway, back to the point: What's a guy to do when a future without his favourite drink awaits? Why, try to make it himself of course! Fortunately for me, it's much easier than brewing beer or making wine - essentially just steeping sugar and ume in some alcohol for a few months to a year, and drinking the result. It's just so simple! Which is why it seemed like such a good idea to bring back a large 4-litre glass bottle made specifically for umeshu-ing. As long as I had this bottle, I could make it whenever I wanted, right?

Um... yeah. Turns out there's a couple more obstacles in my way making it a little bit more difficult.

Shochu's kinda expensive in Australia, as expected, but I have heard of other umeshus being made with other alcohol, like brandy. I didn't really do much of a search, but I couldn't find the rock sugar that's normally used either, but my favourite umeshu has honey in it, so I could probably use that when I make it...

Oh yeah, and one other minor problem. Ume (Japanese plums) doesn't look like its available in Australia at all. Yeah, just a minor hiccup in my quest to make Japanese plum wine.

While shopping though, I stumbled across some unripened nectarines. They kinda looked like Japanese plums, though bigger and not as green. Plus, I looked up 'nectarine' in Japanese, and one translation came up as 'sour peach' and ume are quite tart.... So with my in-depth research and analysis complete, I bought a kilo and started hunting down the rest of the ingredients.

And here's the finished product. Although it won't be ready to drink for another few months, let's hope it tastes just like how I remembered. Or, well, drinkable. Or safe for human consumption. I really shouldn't set my standards too high, considering I have, you know, zero of the three original ingredients.

sukiyaki western django

Hey blog, long time no see. Sorry bout that. It's not you, really. It's me. It's just hard to find stuff to blog about when you're looking for work and spend most of your time with Ellen and Dr. Phil. And as much as I like Ellen and watching movies, I don't really feel it's quite as blogworthy compared to traveling or life in Japan.

But coming back from the cinema and switching on the TV, I felt the need to blog again after seeing a movie that reminded me of Japan. It was one that I had seen on DVD when I was there with a few friends, but being a Japanese movie without subtitle options made it a bit hard to fully understand everything that goes on in the movie.

Especially when the cowboy starts quoting Shakespeare.

Yep. Japanese cowboys and Shakespeare. With a touch of Quentin Tarrantino. It's also completely in English, but with the patchy and varying English language abilities of the cast, it's a little hard to follow when some of the actors go into their monologues. Subtitles do help though, especially when they're occasionally poorly translated and add to the entertainment value.

Favourite scene: The antagonist, Kiyomori  (who insists on being called 'Henry'), finds himself up against a travelling priest who whips out his gatling gun.

Oh Japan. Who knew that watching cowboys with boyband haircuts speaking questionable English would make me miss you so much?

don't look at me!

I really wondered what it looked like to all the people that drove or cycled past my apartment the morning I left. I was sitting on the couch in a completely bare, dark apartment, staring out the window. Or, staring out where all the windows would be. All the windows and curtains were removed so the landlord could clean them and prepare for the next tenant moving into my apartment in the next couple of days. All my belongings were packed up in bags in preparation for starting my travels around Japan. I couldn't really go anywhere either, since I was waiting for my former English teacher to come pick me up and take me to the station. My electricity and gas had been switched off that morning, so I couldn't watch TV or even turn on the lights. Going to the bathroom involved a dilemma; close the door and use the toilet in complete darkness, or open the door and let passers by see what you're doing?

I was glad when an hour passed and my teacher finally came. She did question what I was doing in a windowless apartment, but I did explain the whole situation. If only I could've done the same thing to the three cyclists and two drivers as well.

goodbye gifu

It's done. Over. Finished. My time on JET has officially come to an end as of Thursday. I still can't believe that three years passed like that. And although the numerous farewell parties with people I met over the years should have been enough to remind me that I'm leaving, it was only when I was cleaning my apartment, seeing it gradually get emptier and emptier, did it really make it seem more real that I would be going back to Australia. Sifting through my junk that I had accumulated over the years and trying to decide which items I should keep for sentimental value and which I should throw away. It was difficult, since it seemed like I could keep everything for sentimental reasons, but when it gets to the point you're thinking "Awww, this is the moist towelette I got at my first sushi train place!", you know you've probably got to be a bit more selective.

While I was removing some photos from my bedroom wall, I figured it was about time to remove the post card that was stuck in the top right corner of one of the walls. It had been there since I got there, and since it was in a corner of the room right above my bed, I never really paid much attention to it, nor could I ever be bothered removing it either.

Taking it off the wall, I realised it wasn't addressed to either of the two previous tenants before me, meaning that it's been up there in the apartment for at least seven or eight years. Crazy to think that JET ALTs have been living in that apartment for about a decade. And yet, I know exactly what salsa party they're talking about, since I was invited to go to the one in Nagoya a few months after I got here too. It reminded me of how life will continue on in my city in Motosu even after I'm gone, and the cycle of JETs will begin again, experiencing the same events and feelings I felt while I was there.

After reading it, I kinda felt bad that I had taken it down, and so put it back up to where I found it. I just felt like I was ruining the whole cycle. I wonder if the next person to live in the apartment will feel the same way, or just take it down straight away.

the end. ish.

Yep, I knew it was going to happen eventually. The end of my time as a JET in Gifu is fast approaching, as I now am realising each lunch outing to one of my favourite restaurants may turn out to be my last.  Last week was the end of another semester of school, and while I was quite sad to be leaving my original school of two and a half years, I felt equally sad to be leaving a school I had only been at for four months.

I wasn't expecting to say goodbye at this school to be so difficult. After all, I had said my 'real' farewell speech in April to my old school, and this time, it felt insincere compared to my previous one. What was I supposed to say to students whose names I had just started to learn? I ended up copying and pasting parts of my old speech into a newish one, but my heart really didn't feel that into it.

And then it came to actually saying it in front of everyone. Saying goodbye while looking into a crowd of kids you've seen every day for the past few months isn't as easy I thought it would be. To make matters worse (or better, depending on your perspective), one of my favourite students, Ren, was then called to the stage to read out his speech before another one of my favourites students presented me with flowers and three books worth of letters from students.

 I don't like doing things by halves, and leaving now, just as kids are coming out of their shells and just as I'm getting attached to them, it feels like I've still got so much more to achieve and prove at this school before I can go. But then again, I'm sure I'd feel the same way had I stayed for another year and had to do my farewell speech in the middle of the school year again.

pffft... books.

I find being in Japan as a good enough justification as to why I don't read much. First of all, it's not like there's an English book store that's even close to me, and when I do stumble upon a bookstore that has a foreign language book section, their selection is pretty limited.

That being said, I have attempted to read Japanese books here, though to varying degrees of success. I chose my books in the same way as I'd choose what books to read back in Australia: If they've made a movie out of it, no matter how bad the movie is, chances are the book is good. There must be a reason why they decided to make the book into a movie in the first place, right?


My first attempt, The Homeless Student, started after seeing the preview trailer at the cinemas as well as seeing some of my students reading the book between classes. I figured it was a good place to start; it was an autobiography about a Japanese comedian who became homeless around junior high school. It couldn't be that hard, I thought. After all, the students are all reading it, and as an autobiography about a student, it couldn't be that hard, right?

I ended up finishing the book 9 months later.  Nine months. People have babies in that time. Hell, I could have had a baby in that time, if I wasn't so busy reading that stupid book (Yes, the book is the sole reason I was not able to bear child, and  it was due in no part to my lack of ovaries).  In which time the movie had been released at cinemas, then finished its cinema released, and then was released on DVD. By the time I did end up watching the DVD, I had forgotten how the story started, so couldn't tell when some plot points had changed for the movie adaptation, or whether I just couldn't remember the story.

It took me another nine months just to get the motivation to start reading a book again, which was again, motivated by seeing a trailer for the movie. This one, Confessions, won a few literary awards in 2009, and set in a school, I figured would be easier than a more abstract novel or something.

Well, I think "literary awards" should have tipped me off about the type of language that would be in the book. Still though, I already spent a good ¥680 on a book, so not wanting to waste my money, I tried get through it.

3 full days or later, and I had read less than 50 pages. Knowing I wouldn't be able to finish the book in time to watch the movie at the cinemas, I ended up going to see it last week. It turned out to be a pretty good movie, despite the occasional monologues characters had explaining their motivations (I'm sure they would have been good, had I understood them). And, I still have no idea what exactly the catchphrase is of the antagonist that was repeated throughout the movie. But yes, definitely a movie I would watch again.

It was however, disheartening to find that, what had taken me three full days of non-stop reading to learn was explained in the movie within the first 15 minutes. And knowing that it'd probably take at least another 9 months to find out what I had just seen in the movie. Maybe I should just give up and work on that whole baby thing instead. Ovaries, Shmovaries. I'm sure it'd still be easier than finishing the book.

i really should stop lying to friendly people.

Sure, I've been in Japan for a while now (almost *gulp* three years) but my Japanese still isn't completely fluent. I can get by, and have fairly standard conversations with most people about weather and weekends, and after a couple years of watching English being taught in Japanese, I can tell you what passive affirmative sentences are and what past participles are in Japanese as well.

For all the stuff that I don't know though, I've developed a few Japanese conversational survival techniques that probably don't help my Japanese improve in the long run. As I've mentioned before, I'm pretty much able to deal with a conversation with a 4-year-old using only a few words and phrases. Unfortunately, it is much harder to fake a conversation with anyone older than a preschooler. My original tactic was to say "yes" to anything in agreement to what people said, until eventually, someone would ask me a question that I was supposed to say "no" to. Saying yes to this response was usually met by the other person giving me a strange look and asking "really?", which was then my cue to just laugh nervously and say "no", shrugging it off as a joke.

While my original tactic has evolved a bit, with the aid of a few new phrases under my belt,  I'm still finding situations where I don't understand what's being said to me. I could ask for the other person to repeat what they said, or say "I don't understand", but saying it too much leads to strains on the conversation and sometimes other people just giving up on making conversations. Which is why, as I realised today, I revert to using my conversational survival techniques. Well, that's what I call them anyway. I think some people prefer to use the term "lying".

One teacher came up to me today and struck up a conversation about books and Australia.

Teacher: "So, I noticed the students are somethingsomethingilly reading their books today.
Me: (nervous laughter) Yeah, they do that, don't they?
(Technique #5: Nervous laughter makes any wrong answers sound like they were meant to be a joke)

T: So what are students in Australia like? Do they somethingsomethingilly read their books too?
Me: Well, yeah, I wonder.
(#12: Ambiguous statements about own opinion)
I think so, but they're a bit different to Japanese students.
(#2: Always mention the differences in culture when asked to talk about something)

T: Oh really, so how do they study and read books?
Me: Um, good question. Well...
T: Oh, do they blahblahblah?
Me: (laughing) Yeah, they do.
T: What!? Seriously? Do they somethingsomething or blahblahblah?
Me: Yes. blahblahblah.
(#8: Repeat the last thing that's mentioned when given a choice between two or more things)
T: So you're telling me you can see classes of students just blahblahblahing?
Me: (more nervous laughter) um... yes. Yes they do.

Fortunately for me, the conversation ended soon after that, and I was relieved that made it through a conversation talking about something I don't even know, quietly proud that my advanced survival techniques got me through another conversation.

That was, until the same teacher gave me a lift to a bar the next day.

Teacher: Okay, let's be honest. You sometimes have no idea what you're talking about do you?
Me: ...No. No I don't.

confessions of a karaokeholic

"Man, I haven't been to karaoke for ages!"

Thinking this to myself as I sit at my desk, daydreaming, I was really feeling the urge to do karaoke. I never really went to karaoke back home in Australia, and wouldn't be caught dead singing on front of a group of people back home, especially ones that I didn't know. I never really hated singing at school, but I was too nervous to sing in front of other people I would just mouth the words or sing under my breath when we had to sing the school songs. For me, it's kinda like talking to other people when you're in a public bathroom. When other people try to strike up conversations in the bathroom, no matter how friendly they're trying to be, I can't help but answer in short, curt responses. I just feel it's inherently wrong and something no one in their right mind should do.

Karaoke has kinda changed all that now I guess (the singing in public thing, not the bathroom conversation thing. Still working on that). Turns out is a good skill to have, especially when you find yourself doing English songs with your classes and singing The Beetle's "Hello Goodbye" about 15 times a week.

I don't know what makes singing songs with your friends so fun though. I guess as the only pastime possible in a city that doesn't house any clubs or fancy bars, I now just associate going out and having a good time with friends with singing songs stuck in my head in a dimly lit room. So has it really been that long since I've gone out with friends and then, If I'm feeling so melodically frustrated that I'm dying to get my kumbayayas out? I glance at my calendar and backtrack to work out the last time I went.

Three weeks. Less than a month since my last visit and I'm this desperate to go to karaoke. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm totally screwed when I go back home.

let the staring commence. again.

So as I previously mentioned, I'm now at a new school since the start of April this year, when the new school year begins in Japan, perfectly coinciding with the cherry blossoms being in bloom. And sure, my school students didn't have the best reputation in the city, but after two and a half years with them, they were my students. So needless to say, I was quite sad to find out that I would be spending my last four months working in Japan with a whole new bunch of students and trying to start forming relationships with all of them from scratch once again.

That being said, it is like a second chance to start again, and helps me gain perspective on things. I can finally experience first hand what these other schools are like when they're not just focused on getting kids to not run out of class. I also get to distinguish what may be the general Japanese-school culture and what was specific to my previous school. Teachers at this new school are so... positive. It's weird. I feel slightly cynical as I just have a hunch that there are way more personal conflicts than I can see at the moment. But, I do hope my cynicism fades and I realise that they're just all happy and good at my school.

Also, starting again makes me realise how much I've changed since I started the first time. No longer am I nervous about getting in front of a class and talking. I came fresh out of uni and without a single good, relevant idea on what to teach these kids, and now I'm pulling ideas out of my butt for activities. Oh, and hate to toot my own horn, but I feel I've mastered the art of introducing myself, and I swear I've already beaten the other English teachers at my school at the self-introduction-off.

Unfortunately, I think I may have been trying to  repress my memories of being stared at, and now at this new school, it's all coming back to me now. I think regular teachers here can strike up a rapport with students fairly quickly, and students feel at ease with them straight away. For me, I think there's the worry for them that they can't speak to me, or I'm a freak since I'm foreign. Also, kids don't know if I speak Japanese, and not being confident in their English makes them super awkward as well. I can't blame them - I don't know what the official stance is on whether or not they want me to speak to the kids in Japanese, so usually I just nod, and say things in English all the time. Which leads to the stares, awkward glances, and avoiding eye contact. Oh fun.

You know that feeling you have when you think people are talking about you behind your back, but you quietly think, "Oh, don't be so self-centered! They totally aren't talking about you!"? Well, turns out, some of them are. And, since they say it in Japanese, I'm conflicted. Do I say something back in Japanese, so they know I understand what they've said, or do I pretend I don't and ignore it, just so I can eavesdrop and learn even more?

can i go home now?

Every other year, when it comes to spring vacation in Japan, I sit at my desk with absolutely nothing to do. It's in between school years, and so without knowing what the plans are for the next school year I sit at my desk and try to look like I'm keeping myself busy, so other teachers don't judge me and think of me as a waste of government money.

This year, however, is different. Since I'm switching schools, I've had to clear out my desk, which is much harder than it sounds. Not only have I got my own crap to get rid of, I've also got about 10 years worth of 'resources' that have been left around from previous Assistant Teachers. There's fake money from the UK, Canada, and the US in there - something that most people don't use but are probably too afraid to throw away just in case the next teacher that comes along happens to be from one of those countries. I also have a fake mobile phone, which I can kinda see how it counts as an educational resource, and a toy plastic shotgun, which I'm still struggling to justify how it could ever be used for educational purposes, but following tradition, I can't bring myself to throw it out, you know, just in case.

I've also got token farewell presents for each teacher sitting in my desk, which I'm wondering when I should pass out. I was thinking of giving it to just the teachers who have spoken to me, but afraid of the leers from other teachers who have not made it on my 'favourite teacher' list, have caved and got token presents for all the teachers. But that doesn't mean I'm still afraid to give them out. I just want to avoid the awkward farewell speeches that may follow from every teacher when I do give them out.

And, the biggest difference of course, is that I've got nothing to do at all. And with a completely empty desk, it's hard to even make it look like I have things to do. So since I'm technically obliged to be here til tomorrow, what the hell am I supposed to do? I'm tempted to leave as soon as I can, and hope that no one else will notice or even care that I'm not here when I should be. After all, when will I ever see them again after I move schools?

Okay, that's it. I'm going home. Well, once the judging leers from the other teachers stop and I can give out my farewell presents. But yeah, once that leering stops, I'm totally out of here.

The beginning of the end

Wow, it does seem like a very ominous title for a blog post, but after a three day conference for JETs returning to their home countries, it really has got me thinking. I was hoping to find answers, and ideally, someone running up to me and offering me a job on the spot, but unforunately neither of those things eventuated. On the plus side, it did involve a three day mini trip to Yokohama wearing a suit and finally understanding what it feels like to be an actual professional who normally goes on business trips. I've been trying to act all nonchalant and casual about the fact that "I'm on business", but I think my grin of excitement about sitting on a Shinkansen and not being at school is giving me away.

Tomorrow when I do return to actual work, I'll be reminded again about the fact the end is nigh. It'll be my final class with some of my third year students before they graduate next year. It might not sound like much, but these were also the same kids who had bowl haircuts, squeaky voices and were afraid of cooties when I had just come to Japan. Now, they have big hair, shaved eyebrows and bright pink hairclips. And don't even get me started on the girls. But regardless, the very first kids I taught and didn't feel very attached to when I first came are now my favourite ones, and the last group of kids I'll see graduate.

Boy, how things change so quickly. Hopefully that also applies to my imminent unemployment as well.

conversations with weird people

Are you okay?

Hiroki, a fourteen-year-old student of mine starts fake crying as soon as he sees me come near him.
"*sniff sniff* No. I want to die. *sniff sniff*"
"Oh really? Why?"
"Because... Because... *sniff sniff*... Because we love Narin!"

I really should have expected this from someone who claims his favourite movie is Narin vs. Narin's Family: We Love Narin.

my sapporo point card

So I've finally done it - After almost three years of talking about it and nothing actually happening, I've finally managed to get myself to Hokkaido, the northernmost island of Japan, and also the first place I ever saw in Japan. Sure, we were there for the snow festival, which is said to be one of the best festivals in Japan, but I was just as equally excited to go back and see the city where I did my exchange that made me want to come back again.

Obviously, many things weren't recognisable, seeing a number of years had passed and the last time I came in August 2000, everything wasn't covered in snow. But a wave of nostalgia hit me and I was flooded by all these memories that I had forgotten. It was a strange sense of deja vu.  As we walked passed a nondescript electronics store, I suddenly remembered how that was very store I searched for an electronic Japanese eraser (it was in the textbook I was studying at the time), only to not find it and settle for regular Japanese erasers (which, if you don't quite know already, are way better & cheaper than erasers anywhere else) and got a point card which promised me discounts for every other subsequent purchase. I never did buy anything else from that store, but held onto that point card until I came to back to Japan in 2007, at which point I found there isn't a branch of that store here in Gifu. 

After spending the afternoon seeing the awesome snow sculptures, we approached TV tower, which excited me, even though the others (as well as me) thought it was just a rip off of the Tokyo Tower. It was there me and the other exchange students met up and I bought my very first weird-flavoured fanta in Japan.

Outside Ishiya Chocolate Factory

Other memories weren't as vivid, but still made me reminisce. On the way to Ishiya Chocolate Factory, we went past a building which offered tennis and bowling lessons. The fact that you could get tennis lessons indoors and also with bowling lessons was such a seemingly random combination made me remember I thought the same thing walking past a similar building, if not the same one last time I was here. 

Not surprisingly, I didn't run into my old host family or anyone else I met during my three week exchange. I knew it was a long shot, but even still, the whole time I was there I was clinging to the hope that I may have recognised someone. But still, it was an awesome trip- enough to warrant another post on my blog anyways. Even though after working out there wasn't much to do in Sapporo in the middle of winter, and even having a free day, it still makes me want to go there again.

I should try and look for that point card. 

do you like typhoons?

It's the question I've been asked all day today. And, it's kinda weird that students are all saying yes... Aren't potentially-dangerous natural weather phenomenons supposed to be feared rather than liked? 

Despite the slight anxiousness I'm having about my very first typhoon experience, I can kinda understand where they're coming from. It's kinda like a snow day, where it's an excuse for everyone to not have to go to school. It's things like this that make me wish sometimes that I didn't grow up in a city that only experienced relatively mild weather.

So, if it's an unplanned day of no school, shouldn't I be more excited? Well, yeah, I would, if a "no school day" actually meant not going to school. Actually in my first year back, one of my teachers was telling me about the procedures for a typhoon - essentially a siren will sound warning everyone to stay inside their homes for safety reasons.With torrential rain and winds reaching more than 70 metres per second, people young and old alike are urged to stay home and not go to school, and the same thing is supposed to be for businesses as well. 

But for teachers, rather than stay home and you know, be safe, they're expected to report to school. For most people, that involves commuting in their car up to an hour or so... in the middle of typhoon weather. For me at the time, it meant that the moment I heard the typhoon siren, I was supposed to get on my bike and ride 30 minutes through ridiculously heavy rain, winds that are more than double the top speed of my kei-car to come to school and sit at my desk while my students that I was supposed to teach that day are all staying at home. 

I was talking about this to one of my teachers, and they were like "Yeah, teachers come to school in typhoons." seemingly nonchalant and not at all shocked that one's job stipulates commuting to school in the middle of weather so strong the national weather bureau is recommending people to stay indoors... What the hell, right?

i have a problem.

Okay, I'm not going to lie.

Mango (Miyazaki)

I think my marimokkori collection is getting a little out of hand.

Momotaro (Okayama)

It's not my fault! There are just so many places I really want to visit in Japan, and I want a small memento to remember that trip. Plus, while regional Hello Kitties are super popular and ubiquitous, I wanted to get something that's a little less common and also something that shows when I went there - after all, how long can this well-endowed moss ball dude be that popular for?

Sasebo Burger (Nagasaki)

Then, it happened. A couple of my marimokkoris fell off my phone, meaning my collection was getting smaller. What was I to do but buy another one to replace it? Sounds completely reasonable, right?

Kung Fu Pork Bun Head (Kobe)

Then, what happens if I go to that prefecture multiple times? Shouldn't I get multiple different ones to represent each individual trip I made as well?

Kuidaore Taro (Osaka)

Some experiences aren't regionally based, but I still want to remember them - like teaching at preschool, and going to an amusement park, so might as well get some non-regional (but still equally limited edition) marimokkori to commemorate those as well!

Long-necked ghost

Plus, some are just funny.

St. Francis Xavier (Nagasaki)

Then, my super awesome friends, knowing about my appreciation of all things green and crotchy marimokkori would out of the goodness of their hearts, buy me a keystrap as a souvenir. It'd be totally mean and disrespectful to not accept it, right?

Pearl Diver (Mie)

So fortunately, the first few I got were from places I had been to but before my collection started, so it was totally okay. Then, I got a few more from places I had driven through, which technically counts, since I have been there, just never stopped to see what it's all about.

Hotaru Squid (Toyama)

But, after a while, my friends started going to places I had never been to before. Some of which, I probably won't ever be able to visit, due to time restraints or lack of money. I still can't refuse their acts of kindness, AND, realistically, I'll never be able to go to all the places in Japan. Why deprive myself from getting mementos? If anything, they'll give me an idea of what's famous in each area, and help me decide where I want to go in this next year. If anything, it's helping the economy of these marimokkori places, since it's motivating me to visit these places. And, in a recession, shouldn't we all be doing our part to support people's jobs and stuff?

Sugi Tree (Yakushima)

Like I said, I know I have a problem, and I'm still working on how to get over it.

On a completely unrelated note, If you're going to Takamatsu any time soon, there was something I couldn't find while I was there, so if you do go, let me know...