A Dear John(pan) Letter

Dear Japan,

I’m sorry it didn’t work out between us…trust me when I say that it’s not you, it’s me. It was just time for me to leave. The thing is, the whole time I was there, I was in love with another country. One that has sunshine and tacos and tequila and mariachi music. I wish I could say that I grew to love your sushi and rice and j-pop and chu-hi in the same way, but I just didn’t. Actually, chu-hi is pretty awesome. I’d keep that.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, I mean I have had some good times with you. You’re a beautiful country with a lot going for you; you’ve got great style and truly spectacular hair. I’m sure another geijin will come along who will be swept off her feet by you. One who will love your temples and bullet trains and koi ponds, who can truly appreciate your art and read your kanji (or katakana, or hirakana), who adores electronics and anime and manga and cute toys and Disneyland with every inch of her soul, the way it should be.

As for me…well it’s time to move on, and I hope we can both do so with no regrets and only fond memories. Don’t ever change, Japan – especially not your random English translations, seriously, that’s my favorite part about you. Oh, but if you quit that bad habit of 5 a.m. earthquakes…it would probably be all right, it’s kind of not that cool.

Hello Kitty hugs + kisses,

Nikki

Sensory overload

So I just got back from shopping and holy $#&*...I feel like I need twelve hours in a silent, dimly-lit room smelling of lavender, to recover. The bat cave that passes for my apartment will have to suffice. I went to a couple of department stores in Machida, about halfway to Tokyo from here, and after two hours I was about to go schizo. Simply walking down the streets is an experience in itself; there are pedestrian walkways between the shops, and everywhere is neon lights and guys out front hawking the stuff in the store and crowded sidewalk displays and speakers blaring music or just some person speaking in Japanese, who knows what they’re saying!

Inside the department stores, you’ve got the same hordes of people and bright lights, but add to that the fact that it’s heated to about 100 degrees and there’s awful Christmas Muzak playing in the background. But despite the fact that there’s background music, they like to turn on EVERY SINGLE ELECTRONIC DEVICE in the store, so as you walk around toys squawk at you and televisions blare and radios shout and unidentifiable things blink and beep and ding. I also think they’ve invented extra-super-bright neon lights here so after a while of walking around you feel like you’ve been staring at the sun. And the salespeople talk exceptionally loud (I guess they have to in order to be heard over the din). So as you walk by them they shout at you “SUMIMASEN!!”, or something like that, that’s what it sounds like to me but since I only know ten words of Japanese, that really isn’t saying much. I’m sure they’re trying to be helpful or just doing what they’re told by their supervisors, but I just want them to stop yelling at me.

I’m sure as I walk around I must start to get a crazed look in my eye, something like a cross between a deer in headlights and an escapee from the loony bin. At any rate, I escaped unscathed --though if I close my eyes I still see blinking neon lights -- and even managed to buy a couple things. Nikki, 1, Japan, 0. It was a close contest, though. I admit it.

Job perks

As with any job in the world, teaching English as a Second (or Foreign) Language has its ups and downs. The downs: well, it can be a little tedious and repetitive. Sometimes it’s just not possible to make grammar fun and interesting although we do try. Also, at lower levels it’s not really possible to have much of an in-depth conversation, hence you must be good at enthusiastically saying “What did you do last weekend?!” or “What did you have for breakfast?!” for the hundredth time.

There are plenty of bonuses, however. As with any teaching job, there’s the whole ‘rewarding’ factor; you develop relationships with your students and can be an important figure in their life, either as an adult role model or a representative foreigner or just someone that helps them to accomplish a goal in their lives.

Teaching English abroad offers its own set of perks and challenges. Here in Japan, I have experienced culture shock like never before. Despite the fact that this is the third country I’ve lived in besides the United States, it’s the first where I didn’t speak the language and it’s the first non-Western culture I’ve been exposed to. Result: classic culture shock, where I feel alienated and frustrated and isolated, I can’t communicate with people, I can’t ask for simple things, I have to learn how to go about daily activities (taking the train, buying groceries, taking out the recycling), and I’m rendered effectively illiterate. I’ll admit it’s been humbling; I had liked to entertain the idea that I was (sort of ) well-traveled or at least capable of adjusting quickly to a foreign culture. That turned out to not be so true, once I was really outside my comfort zone! I’ve learned quite a lot from my friend/neighbor/co-worker Eilidh, who has lived in several other countries where not only was the language different, but there were far less first-world luxuries (i.e. reliable public transportation, a safe country where theft is rarely an issue, etc.). What can I say, she’s tougher than me!! And she’s Scottish, I think they’re generally scrappier than soft Americans.

I have to say that the Japanese have been unfailingly polite and never make me feel like an ass when I must resort to sign language and pictures and gestures to communicate something very simple, because I speak about ten words of Japanese. Every stranger I’ve ever asked for directions or help (please understand that “asking” means pointing at things and perhaps saying the name of a place or item!) has always been helpful. I find that Japanese won’t go out of their way to talk to you but if approached they’re very kind.

At any rate, the fact that I work here as an EFL teacher means that my students are my window into Japanese culture. I can’t communicate with much of anyone else, so they are my effective tour guides and encyclopedias and history books. As a general rule, they’re eager to share their country and culture with me, they always ask me what places I’ve visited, what foods I’ve tried, and how I like them. I can’t always relate to their interests -- maybe I’d like karaoke if I weren’t such a terrible singer…anime’s all right though I can’t get REALLY into it…and I don’t think I’ll ever read manga (comics), it’s just not my thing! – but if nothing else they share an insider’s view of their culture with me, and I think that’s an invaluable resource.

Last but not least, when learning English (or any language for that matter!), students say pretty funny things! Please understand that I laugh with my students, not at them…and hey, sometimes it’s good to be entertained on the job! At any rate, here are some of my favorites from my students’ self-descriptions:

Hobbies

• My hobby is movie appreciation. And, I do the making of cake.
• The first, I love Black Music. Especially I like R n B. Yeah!
• I like alcohol. I like cooking.
• Taking a dog out for a walk.
• I like shopping. I like research of plant. I like nature. I like reading a book.
• I like Charles Chaplin’s movies. I like Mr. Children’s songs.
• I like cooking. I live with my sister. So I cook breakfast everyday.

Goals
• I want to go to the foreign country and I want to talk with a lot of people at the place.
• I want to tell myself.
• I want to become good at the daily conversation.
• I want to hear English a little.
• Smile English talking. Don’t shyness.
• I want to be able to catch English.
• I want to trip only one in America.
• I want to do communication with foreigner.

Under the Rock

I learned that I got this job in Japan in July or August, but had to wait until September to get my actual school placement. Supposedly, the company tries to match instructors with schools based on…well I’m not quite sure what information they draw from. I’m left with a few possibilities: someone switched my resume for a lookalike, Westgate (my employer) uses ‘interpretive’ methods, or they drew names out of a hat, because I was placed at Nihon University of Bioresource Sciences.

In defense of N.U.B.S.: its name forms the best acronym ever, the campus is really very pretty, and the four of us EFL teachers have a large teachers lounge to ourselves, as well as our own classrooms. And my fellow Nubsters are the best; if nothing else Westgate did seem to know to put the four most random and goofy and not-serious people at the same school.

The issue at hand: well, NUBS is a science school. My students major in things like forestry, food science, marine science, umm…animal science(?), and other science-y stuff. My scientific life peaked my senior year of high school, when I took A.P. Chemistry. I did not take two years of chemistry out of my great love for the periodic table and the joys of titration; I took it to get out of studying science (or much of it) in college. This plan backfired in the end, anyway, when damn UW wouldn’t accept the credit. I ended up taking classes like Biology 100. My teacher had a rat tail and our labs consisted, memorably, of drawing lines on paper with ballpoint pens and seeing if termites followed them. We were supposed to learn about pheromones. I learned that it sucked that it counted for nothing that I MADE ASPIRIN in my chemistry lab in high school.

Don’t get me wrong, I think science is great and that it’s excellent that people like to study it. It’s just like, similar to many pursuits that I think I should like but I’m really not that into, it just doesn’t take with me. Like how I’ll decide that I should garden, it’s a nice hobby and my friends do it, and then I buy one plant and I kill it within a week. Or I think I should learn a musical instrument. This lasts about long enough for me to look at sheet music, realize how much work it would take to actually figure out how to read it and play it, and then go back to reading my magazine. Once a year or so I take a stab at liking olives; being of half-Italian descent and having lived in Spain, I figure it’s a travesty that I don’t, so I give it another go in hopes that my taste buds have matured. I’m still not a fan.

Basically I’m content to say that trees and flowers and lakes and mountains and animals (the cute ones anyway) are pretty and nice and should be protected, respected, etc. I just let the Authentic Scientific People work out the details.

Why is this problematic, you may be asking? Well, in many ways it’s not. I find it endearing that my students enjoy going to the zoo on the weekend, and a telescope for bird-watching is first on their packing list to go camping, and that the person they most admire is the guy that knows SO MUCH about fish. Other times, I am simply impressed when they tell me about their labs in which they split DNA. Read DNA? Replicate DNA? I don’t know what people do with DNA in labs, actually, just the word itself is enough for me to consider them near-geniuses. Meanwhile, when not furiously working on my lesson plans, I am in the NUBS lounge reading David Sedaris, or checking my e-mail downstairs, or talking with my co-workers about…well I won’t tell you what about, it’s almost never appropriate. But I can tell you it’s not the life cycle of the 6-toed platypus.

It’s just that…well sometimes I just can’t think of what to SAY to them. Especially in a really small class, like me and one or two students. Examples:
Me: What did you do last weekend?
Student: I did club activity. We went to the mountains for animal tracking.
Me: Oh…cool! Did you see any animals?
Student: No, only tracks.
Me: Okay. What did you do after that?
Student: I went home and studied.
Me: Ummm…sounds fun? Did you learn a lot?
Student: Yes.
Cue awkward silence.
Or:
Me: What was the happiest moment of your life?
Student: When I went to Malaysia and saw very rare bird. It is so beautiful.
Me: What was the proudest moment of your life?
Students: When I waited for three days in the forest and saw bird family.
Me: What is your most valuable possession?
Student: My telescope. I use it for watching birds.
Me: If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you like to be?
Student: In Thailand. There are many birds there I haven’t seen yet.
Me: Ummm…did you ever have a dream about flying like a bird?
Student: No.
Cue awkward silence.
Or:
Me: What did you use to like to do on the weekends?
Student: I used to go the the lake and catch insects.
Me: That sounds fun. What do you like to do now?
Student: I like to go to the lake and catch insects.
Me: Ummm…what kind of insects??
Student: Grasshoppers.
Cue awkward silence.

I like to think that I am good at “keeping the conversation going,” (one of the Westgate tenets), but sometimes I’m truly at a loss. It’s not my poor students’ fault. They deserve one of those intrepid, outdoorsy, science-y EFL teachers (I know there’s some floating around), who can understand their knowledge and passion for four-legged and two-winged and ten-eyed creatures instead of one like me, who cannot appreciate the subtle differences between grasshoppers and locusts. And who asks daft questions like “What is your favorite thing about monkeys?”.

Meanwhile, the activities that I think will be so interesting and fun for my 19-22 year old college students fall flat. For first conditional: ‘If you can date any celebrity in the world, who will you go out with?’ (‘I’m not interested in celebrities’). For present perfect: ‘Have you ever stayed at a club until it closed?’ (‘I have never been to a club’). For superlatives: “What is the craziest thing you ever did at school??!” (‘Once I fell asleep in class. I was very tired because I was up all night studying’).

Unquestionably the world needs more people like my students and less like me, I mean my top two talents are probably spacing out and procrastinating. You should see me avoid doing something I don’t want to do, seriously. While my students are like, creating a new breed of fish that can breathe on land, or something. But, I’ll keep bumbling along and maybe I’ll even learn some stuff about science. (But I doubt it!).

Big In Japan

One day during English Challenge -- it’s kind of an informal conversation period; any student can come – students had to make two statements about a foreign country. About the United States, one student said people are friendly, and everything is big.

America is, indeed, the land of super-sizing, of SUVs, 5-lane freeways, 4-bedroom-2-bath homes, 32 oz. drinks…bigger, is, pretty much, always better, and we (and our possessions) seem to expand to fill the spare room or the new lane or the wider seat.

Through the looking glass, however, by way of my hefty American eyes, Japan is a country in miniature, a doll-sized version of life. This is the country that invented all things “cute.” Apartments are small (I never imagined a refrigerator, microwave, sink, stove, and washing machine could fit in 10 square feet of space), food is small (you know how they invented those ‘serving size’ half-pints of ice cream…here they’re half the size of the half-size!), people are small (I tower over half my male students, and I still don’t know how my co-worker who’s 6’3” doesn’t hit his head on everything), shoes are small (an XL shoe here is an American eight…ouch!). I went shoe-shopping with my friend Eilidh; her feet are slightly smaller than mine, and when we asked for her size the salespeople looked at us like we were trying to find the Yeti. I think they really didn’t believe that such a massive size existed; then they looked down at our size 9.5 and 10 feet in horror.

On the one hand, we Americans could take a lesson from the Japanese. There is very little excess here…you’ll rarely see massive portions of food, or sprawling mansions, or huge trucks. To be fair, this is one of the most densely populated nations on earth, and big things quite simply wouldn’t fit. It doesn’t seem to be ingrained in the mentality of people here, however, that more is better…there is an acute awareness of the presentation of things, and often expansion doesn’t come along with good aesthetics.

I very rarely see really overweight people here. Considering that most industrialized nations are dealing with an increasingly heavier population (as our lives get more convenient, we put on the pounds we once kept off with physical labor), I find it remarkable that this isn’t much of an issue in Japan. It truly doesn’t seem like people always want more…they generally have or take what they need. Also, people always sit down to eat or even to drink; it’s a big faux pas to walk around eating or drinking something. The other possibility is that they’re too busy working to eat – it’s common to work 12+ hour days here, in any employment sector.

I must admit that I do miss some big things. I miss other big people so I don’t feel so much like Gulliver in Lilliput, I miss economy size packs of things (I’ve tragically finished the 3 lb. container of coffee I brought with me from Costco, and now must buy my coffee 6 ounces at a time – the largest container -- from the local market), I miss having a sofa to sit on (no room in my apartment!), I miss shoes that fit (I can’t lie, though, it’s probably better off I’m unable to buy shoes because I for sure don’t need more!), I miss space in general – Japan can be quite a claustrophobic country, it’s pretty much crowded everywhere. Also, although I do admire the Japanese’ penchant for portion control, I do find that the amount of packaging used is quite wasteful – with the exception of rice, that you can buy in 10 lb. packs.

If nothing else, I think it’ll be a little shocking to go home to the Land of Big Gulps after being in the Country of 6 oz. Water Glasses. I can’t lie, though…I’m looking forward to good old American coffee and BIG boxes of cereal. Oh, and other Big People so that I feel normal-sized again.

Thoughts and Impressions

Gadgets, gizmos, etc....

I’ve got to hand it to the Japanese…I’m pretty sure that they’ve created a machine or hand-held device or electronic push-button control panel to do pretty much everything. It’s not surprising in the least that the first robot teacher was invented here. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced that the Japanese are not actually robots who have invented human-like forms to inhabit. Just kidding. But I am pretty sure that the vending machines come alive at night and eat small misbehaved children. Well, that’s the new urban legend I’m starting. You read it here first.

Speaking of vending machines…

They’re ubiquitous, and sell just about everything. Okay, I’m exaggerating, I haven’t actually seen ones that sell much besides drinks (hot & cold), snacks, and cigarettes. And beer, actually, though for alcohol and cigarettes you need a special card that proves you’re of age. But I KNOW the others exist. If nothing else, it would be possible to eat, drink, and smoke for weeks on end in Japan without ever entering a building.

Toilets

Going to the bathroom in Japan is an experience in itself. First, some have what looks like a urinal in the floor, and you’re supposed to squat over it and do your business. I generally avoid them, except when I have no choice, like the port-o-potties at Oktoberfest in Yokohama. I survived it by gripping the bars so as not to topple over, as I hadn’t perfected the power squat quite yet. The fact that my knees were more or less jammed against the door also helped me win the fight against gravity – occasionally it’s of benefit that I’m not Japanese-sized.

On the other hand, there are FANCY toilets that have a push button panel to do all kinds of things. There’s a button to make a flushing sound (not actually flush, just to cover up whatever sounds you might be making), and a button for a bidet, and one to deodorize, and I forget what the others do. I have not actually dared to use most of them, except the flushing sound, that one is just plain entertaining. Oh, the best part – the seats are heated! I am 10 kinds of disappointed that I didn’t get one of these in my apartment.

Recycling

Having grown up in the green (in all senses of the word) Pacific Northwest, I am a fan of recycling and I try to do it whenever possible. Japan is also pro-recycling; however they have created, in my opinion, the most confusing system of doing so I have ever encountered. They categorize the different types of materials to be recycled – logical enough. However, the categories themselves bewilder me – you’ve got “burnables” and “non-burnables,” I still couldn’t tell you entirely what these mean, and also there is a different category for plastic bottles, and plastic food wrappings, and plastic containers. These must all be separated and placed at a mysterious location (can’t read the Japanese sign explaining where & thus have a months’ worth of recycling at my apartment) – and, the best part! – picked up on DIFFERENT days of the week. So beware, ignorant foreigner, do not put your plastic bottles out on Wednesday, that is the other plastics, plastic bottles go with glass bottles and that is a Thursday pick up, and then you’ve got your burnables, Monday and Wednesday, and let’s not forget cans, maybe on Tuesday…or something like that. I guess either I’ll figure it out or have a mountain of rinsed out containers piled around and upon my futon come December.

Happy Pachinko

Of all the Japanese curiousities I’ve come across, this one may baffle me the most. Happy Pachinkos are something like casinos, I guess, and are generally found very near train stations. My friend Eilidh and I popped our heads in one night just to see what all the fuss is about, and found a place that comes close to what I would consider hell. It’s all blindingly bright neon lights and buzzing noises and row upon row of slot machines or video games or I couldn’t tell you what, the din is amazing, all beeps and bleeps and dings and electronic machines that talk to you, and people staring entranced at the screens as they chain smoke and try to get matching cherries or make the bunny hop over the mushroom or shoot the bird out of the tree. I have no idea, actually, I just ran out of there as fast as I could.

Random

Just stuff that has captured my attention:

1. People drive on the left here. Quite frankly I can’t get used to it, I’m always looking the wrong way and I think it’s only a matter of time before I get hit by a car. That said, I do find Japanese drivers to be generally respectful of pedestrians.

2. Eggs are sold in cartons of 10, not 12. This is completely arbitrary of course, and it probably makes more sense (it’s easier to multiply by ten, right?), but it just doesn’t seem right. I miss saying “a dozen eggs.” Also, I always feel cheated out of those extra two.

3. It’s legal to drink in public here – on trains, sidewalks, while walking on the street, etc. I confess to taking full advantage of this law. The Japanese, however, do not, at least not in large numbers. Thus, it’s usually us obnoxious foreigners. Ah, well.

4. People are REALLY into their pets in Japan. Particularly dogs. It’s common to pay several thousand dollars for a purebred dog, and treat him like your child, and walk him in a stroller (okay I didn’t actually see this but my friend did), and dress him in little outfits (matching, if you’ve got more than one), and otherwise dote on little Spot.

5. Japan has quite a remarkable train system, it quite literally connects most of the country and is pretty impressive. However, getting around can be confusing for a couple reasons. First, even within Tokyo there are many different private lines (as opposed to the single MTA in New York, for example), and you have to transfer between the different lines and swipe your card at each one of them. It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it, but it can be complicated. Second, many streets are not named here! So when trying to locate a club, like we did on Saturday night in Tokyo, you have to get directions like “turn left at the 7-11” and “go two blocks until you see some trees” and things like that. Not so easy in a MASSIVE, crowded city. For as efficient and organized a country as Japan is in certain ways, it follows a bewildering logic that maybe only a Japanese person really understands…

The First 2 Weeks

I have to admit that I plagiarized the title of my blog; I took it from the label of the hand towel I got at the 100 yen store on campus (one of my new favorite places). I had to buy a hand towel because many bathrooms here have neither hand dryers nor paper towels. You're required to bring a hand towel along, or walk along wringing your hands, or wipe them on your pants or the nearest dry surface (not the most attractive options). The 100 yen store has an assortment, most with rainbows or butterflies or little bunnies. Mine is actually quite plain, white with a small green clover in the corner; I think I mostly bought it for the label. Like many things in Japan, it strikes me as cute, a little random, and part of a custom I don't really get but I go along with as an attempt to assimilate into the culture.

As a whole, I've adjusted pretty quickly to my life here. It helps that I work for a super-organized company, that my housing was arranged and furnished (well, by Japanese standards!), that I was escorted to city hall and the post office to take care of all the necessary 'living abroad' paperwork, that I have a very short commute by train, and both live and work very near the train station. Nonetheless, the language barrier has proved more isolating than I was expecting; having lived abroad only in countries where I spoke the language (i.e. Spanish), it still came as a bit of a shock. I was expecting it, but expecting and experiencing are two different things! Of course, there's always a way to get by, but a feeling of helplessness comes from not really being able to communicate anything. For example, sitting and looking at a menu and having not a clue of either what foods or prices are listed, and the waiter doesn't speak any English, or being at the market and having the cashier ask a question and I've got no idea what she said or how to answer. So I nod and smile and stare blankly and bumble through the best I can. My Japanese is VERY limited, so basically I say 'good morning' and 'thank you' a lot...even when it may not be appropriate (like saying good morning at 7 p.m.) but I don't know anything else! I'll tell you, also, I see the value of menus with pictures now -- they're not just for Denny's! Try pointing to some kanji and not knowing if you're getting a drink or some pork skewers or fried octopus or something you've never heard of and would rather not try! Luckily I have co-workers who speak some Japanese, so generally I let them do the speaking when we go out. I feel like I don't get the same perspective on the culture, though, as I might if I could speak more to people...I'm limited to those who can speak English to me.

As far as my job goes, it's been a pleasure teaching Japanese students. They're polite to a fault, curious about other cultures and eager to share their own, and very motivated to learn. The biggest difficulty is that they tend to be a little shy, not speak until spoken to and that sort of thing, so sometimes it takes a little work to get them out of their shell. Which isn't to say I don't have outgoing students, but as a general rule they're much less likely to speak out than, say, American students. This isn't a criticism of either, just a cultural difference. Also my Japanese students seem younger than Americans the same age (19-22 or so); the girls are often very giggly, and think everything's 'cute', and get very shy if you ask them about their boyfriends! I've been impressed by how well-traveled they are. I think the majority have been to other countries, and quite a few study another language besides English. I actually have one student who lived in Mexico for a year on an exchange, so we can trade Mexico stories.

Basically, I'm enjoying my life in Japan thus far...after a couple weeks I feel like I'm getting to know people and see some more places, and hope to have the opportunity to meet & see many more while I'm here.