All the kiddies

Getting ready for the big run up the hill.












Me with the little ones while they sing and do hand gestures (patting each others backs).






And littlest Kokolo...


One of the highlights of my job is that every week on Wednesday, from around 9 to 12, I go to Ubuyama's hoikuen (nursery) to teach English. But obviously academic rigor is low for the little ones, ages 1-5. Little Kokolo, one of my youngest students, took two months just to learn not to cry when I come to her classroom. She is still learning. I think that the marshmallows she had last Wednesday (see photo above) aided her in this process. The kids like to be picked up and sometimes they like to be tickled. Some like me more than others but they are all pretty happy when I make them play freeze tag or when I tell them to hug three friends at the end of my lessons. They have a great time in life and this seems to continue on through most of elementary school. Then things get boring and difficult. The joyful beginnings of puberty come at around the end of their elementary years and their society asks them to be more respectful and more controlled than they have ever been before. But what happened to those happy carefree years of early childhood? One time, and I may have mentioned this earlier, a principal told me that the main goal for Ubuyama's schools, and Japan's schools as a whole, was happy children. But perhaps as the children get older it becomes more and more difficult to live up to that goal. But I think they are doing it well for the younger ones: they seem truly happy.

Poetry

Here are some poems by my oldest students (third years in junior high):

untitled by Shigenori
How far continue blue sky.
How far continue white cloud.
How far light shine sun,
And how far continue my walk road.


Broad Sky by Tomonori
Moonshine to broad sky
Then many stars shine around
So I living


Moon by Ayumi
Night come sweet moon
Moon is warm-hearted that
I think moon see all people.


Dream by Ayaka
Shine forever
In my heart
Very big treasure
Wonderful.

untitled by Honami
A light cloud was floating lightly when I looked up at the sky.
My family was at home when I came back to my home.
My friends are in my school when I go to school.
The flowers are in bloom.
I love causal day so much!!
And thank you.

Continuations

This morning I was asked to grade the performances of the third-year students as they recited outloud the story about the victims of the bomb in Hiroshima. There were two things to which I would assign an A, B, or C: pronounciation and emotion. Most of them were excellent in both (relatively speaking) and only one recieved a B instead of an A for emotion.

The kids seem to have adopted me as their role model here in this farming town. Besides the few that are too cool for school and have been somewhat disrespectful to me (and other teachers) there are two boys that even acquired glasses of the same style as mine. One even found glasses with the same tint in the frames as mine. Clever little guy.

This past week I took a vacation. It was very nice to take a break from the busy office atmosphere. I had a special guest visit and I got to show off the town in all its glory (of which it has ample) and then I traveled to Amakusa island of Kumamoto prefecture where the water was comparable, in temperature and appearance, to Hawaiian water and the beaches were peaceful despite it being a three day weekend for everyone. The sun was shining on both the beach where we camped the first night and on the waterfall that we went to on the second night. The "we" refers to the three JETs that I drove with (a Canadian, an Aussie, and an American all around 26) and the many JETs that came for the "waterwheel" party on Saturday night that is famous for its drunken, sleezy guests (almost all JETs). It was a good opportunity to be reminded of how drinking is done by the youth of the west. I went to sleep early after chatting with a nice Chilean guy named Alex and my friend Steve from Colorado. JETs are the strangest, most disliked foreigners in Japan, unfortunately (from what I've heard and seen), but they can also be loveable guests who shy away from the stereotypes (and some of them even move here and become respected citizens).

The events that happen here exist in the vaccum of this place. It seems like when I leave I will never see many of the Japanese people again (unless I visit, of course). But I may run into the interationalists that I have met here. To see society here is to admit to the huge variety of cultures and experiences of human societies that exists out here in the world and in the air. Coming to Asia, as opposed to Europe, challenges me even more as I must except the contingencies of my own alphabet and the neverending variety of those that I can never fully know (like the Chinese characters used in Japanese writing). The luxury of travelling and seeing is traggic: only the most priveleged few can go and see all those things that help us understand life a little better.

the kiddies

today

Today in class, as well as yesterday, the third years of the middle school were assigned to read aloud (over and over again) a passage from their textbook ironically called "New Horizon." This particular passage, unlike the passage used for the second years, which involves philanthropy amidst the Guatemalan countryside, was about the bombing of Hiroshima 60 years ago. The story, in very plain English so that it could be understood, featured a tree that remembered the people "burned all over" that were falling dead under its shade. The tree then focused its memory on one girl who played mother for a dying youngster, singing to him and telling him that everything would be alright. The story ends by saying that the girl also did not live to see the next day.

The students read the story aloud after I recited it to them (reciting being one of my most important duties as an A.L.T. in the junior high classrooms). The fact that an American was reciting this story that was obviously, although not explicitly, about a massacre brought on by the American government probably did not go unnoticed. There were times that I could not help myself from laughing. The story was almost disgustingly sad, pathetically traggic.

Of course the irony does not stop there. The school here would not exist in the fashion that it does without the American influences involved after the widespread bombing, and during the American occupation, of Japan. The architecture of the school has 1950s America written all over it. Then there is the fact that they teach English as the foreign language. And then there is the JET programme which brings, primarily American speakers of Engish, to bring - on a grassroots level - even more "internationalization" here.

Well, a nice third year student just stopped by the office where I am asking me to help her recite a speech that she wrote in English with the help of the English teacher, so I have to go for now...

The Other Side of Getting Plastered

Photo Above: some junior high students and Uchiyama Sensei (a.k.a. Pretty Uchi) at enkai (and amazingly, none of them drank a drop, as far as I know)

My view of the culture here and its drinking practices is most positively skewed. I cannot understand the things that are said around the enkai tables which can be dominated by men often leaving their wives to do all the work involved in throwing the party and cleaning up after it. The sexism here is embedded into the old-fashioned culture of the countryside. The men generally have the business-like jobs and even at the school the female teachers are the ones who cater to guests, bring drinks around, and clean up (well, the male teachers also do some cleaning and yardwork). While it is not obviously bad for either party, it is obviously unequal and probably undesirable for many people.

The more degraded, sinister sides of the human being are present even during all our moments of goodness. The selfish drive to feel good can produce in us the best and worst at times. The selfishness is both sinister and positively nice, though. Thus during the drinking parties and all the fun had there is something lurking underneath the surface. Perhaps the intoxication really does clear away some of the worst intentions and brings us to a more fragile, and thus less hostile, state. All we want to do is sit, relax, and eat the good food spread in front of us (and the bad things temporarily disappear).

In the last few years I have become increasingly perturbed by noticing the more sinister sides of human behavior. They do not crowd my vision but rather hide in the background like subtle speckles of blood on an otherwise perfectly white blouse. I truly think that they exist even during our sweetest, most heartfelt moments. I think that our culture tries to emphasize the sweetness and warmth in order to hide the ambivalent, undeniably disturbing truth lurking beneath the surface.

For those of you who find this blog post too heavy and worrisome, please don't fret. I am a happy, lucky labrador over here. I am just trying to be "real" and interesting. Of course, I wouldn't mind evoking some responses from any surprised readers. They can tell me how negative I am or how worried they may be about my reflections. My first response would be: look at the newspapers or watch Apocalypse Now (or read some Nietzsche, who I am sure already said all of this, or at least Zola or some other European mind) and then tell me if I am actually being abnormally negative (or just look at the photos that I took after a few small glasses of Asahi and Shochu).

we like to party

Above: the principal where I work most of the time feeling his oats.

Above: Enkai after sports festival that was held at Hokubu Elementary. Below: That is not alcohol, I swear.




Every culture creates its own reasons for drinking alcohol. As we can observe in the spider monkey, even the other primates, “the primitive,” partake in what we usually think of as a distinctly human event. But why would the spider monkeys be motivated to eat the rotting fruit that so intoxicates them? Maybe they have few food sources and thus no choice but to eat – but for some reason I do not think this is the case. Or maybe they do not realize the fruit tastes rotten – but even dogs and cats know when something tastes a little funny and I would not put the mental abilities of the spider monkey underneath those of our favorite house pets.

No, no; I think there is a much better chance that the spider monkey simply gets tired of the tedious, continuous responsibility of clutching to branches, escaping predators, staying alive, and protecting their youth. They need a little escape. Nothing would feel better than a little intoxication time and again even if it means sometimes losing ones grip and falling to the forest floors.

In America people have all too many reasons to drink. The diversity of reasons to drink is perhaps unparalleled in all the countries of the world. In Japan there are fewer reasons but they seem to be more powerful, more profound than those found in America on the whole.
As you can read in any cheap guidebook on Japan, the business culture here is one with a system of formalities in language and action that is strictly adhered to. The guidebook will also tell you that to make up for all that the Japanese businessman will drink himself to oblivion and act like anything from a puppy dog to a chauvinist, a penguin to a young person of the opposite sex. While this does not seem to be the case out here with teachers and farmers in the countryside, I have noticed the ingrained necessity to drink and I have started to consider the reasons why.

I have had around a dozen opportunities to get drunk with the folk here during my first six weeks. My size and stomach, however, allow me to keep up with my colleagues and superiors in their drinking bouts and never really get drunk (well, maybe once or twice).

I think that the society of educators, even in the countryside, is so formal, careful, structured, and demanding that drinking is how people become able to exist in a freer, more relaxed state (note well that people spend large chunks of their free time drinking with people from their work, including their superiors). With that said you could probably also say that Hawaiian culture is like rural Japanese culture after having consumed a pint of Asahi or some gulps of sake. The people here are hardly obnoxious when they drink; they are just extremely good-natured and relaxed. I hope you enjoy the photos.

the storm is coming

The shiitake farmer tried over and over to make me understand, but I could not. So I continued to help him pack the mushrooms into the appropriate packages based on their size, shape, and quality. Although my Japanese was poor, I was a diligent worker that morning a few weeks ago.

The country folk have given me quite an opportunity to be part of their community. They let me teach every child in the town (between 150-200 counting all four schools). They have also given me pictures with names underneath them for some of the classes in able for me to learn everyone’s name with more ease.

I live in the center of town, right next to the junior high where I primarily work. One of the elementary schools is just a five-minute walk up the hill. The other is about 13 minutes by car. The nursery is up a different hill, about a 7-minute’s drive away. It is by far the most beautiful building; almost all hardwood and not more than ten years old. The other buildings are more like 1950s style, poorly insulated (good for the summer), and very boxy.

I am a bit of a freak here, understandably, as I am the only white person around for miles and I am relatively big. But that doesn’t bother me too much. It does mean that I can never really obtain any sort of anonymity; I am a documented, well-noticed, and singular entity. I am sure that I am also a bit of a mystery for most of the town for they cannot really converse with me. They can only observe me when I happen to be out and about or they can read the monthly publication called Ted’s Eye which is a translated letter to the town that I have now written just one of so far. This is a responsibility (a luxury really) that I am happy to have. When it is distributed (and I hope that the whole town gets access to it), maybe I will lose a bit of my anonymity.

I wonder if they realize how lucky I am to get this opportunity to educate and befriend the youth of their town. I feel a little like everyone’s uncle-brother-dad-friend. It is certainly a hybrid, as my age and job allow that.

Even though work has started I still have plenty of free time during the nights and weekends. The job does require a lot of hours, but those hours are mostly harmless. I’ll tell you, it is a trying job to think of ways, on the spot, to entertain/teach thirty-five 7 year-olds for fifty minutes. But I can’t really complain. I get to be a kid again now. The kids are so gentile (when the select few of [male elementary school kids] are not trying to violate me (i.e. slapping and poking (special slapping and poking (actually, violate may be the right word, but it’s all in good fun)))) and happy too.

Back in my home country things are not looking so pretty. The newspapers are very busy these days trying to document it all. Paul Krugman of the New York Times wrote an insightful editorial piece. It is obviously an extremely depressing and sad situation. I can only hope that positive change will come, somehow, from all the destruction and suffering. I don’t think that Bush will be able to harvest any power from the reverberations of this disaster like he did four years ago. It may just have the opposite affect. But the problems facing America and its culture will persist far beyond the clean up and far beyond any regime change. The only good thing that I will say about festering wounds is that they draw attention and by doing so they make help to create a situation in which they can possibly heal.

. . .

Today (Sunday), I went on a long jog to one of the nearest shrines. It has a huge pine tree in front of it, maybe one of the oldest trees for miles. It was very peaceful there as the clouds rolled in lower and lower. The typhoon hit tonight as I sit inside and studied a little Japanese, talked to a friend who just moved to Connecticut. Typhoons aren’t so bad as they sound. Or at least not the ones I have seen come through so far. Then again, only small earthquakes have happened so far (I haven’t even noticed them)(but they will surely get more powerful soon). Earth is one sphere of life we will never have control over.

. . .

Since I wrote the above yesterday I have learned that the typhoon that is coming is pretty serious. Serious enough to cancel classes early today and have no classes tomorrow. Amusingly, all the teachers have to go to the office all day anyway. Excellent policy; makes perfect sense...