Undeserving

Once a month I teach a English conversation class at the local community center. My students consist of about 6-8 mothers and their children, aging 4-9. Most of the mothers don't care that much about speaking English themselves, but want to expose their kids at a young age. I never have a plan--I just show up and we go from there. We speak easily as much Japanese as we do English. Usually one of the mothers brings some English children's books and we try to keep the tykes' attention as long as we can.

At last week's class, I told them I was off to the Philippines, and would reward them with photos, stories and sweets at next month's lesson. Today, two of the mothers showed up at my door out of the blue with a gift bag containing: bug spray, band-aids, and some cookies. My heart melted. Then, as my favorite 5-year old wishes me "Have a nice trip", his mother hands me an envelope and says "we dont pay you for your classes, so here is some pocket money". The envelope contained about $100.

Hasta la proxima...

Today I am finishing up my work before my two week vacation. The students have no classes for the next month (their longest break of the year), though most will continue to come to school everyday to practice sports and extra-curricular activities (would this fly in US schools?). Four of my students will be rehearsing for the English Speech/Recitation contest in September. I spent the afternoons this past week helping two students write their speeches. Actually, I wrote all of the English, but the main ideas are theirs. Last year we practiced many hours on memorization and delivery, only to find that the judges weighted 80% of the score on speech content and the degree of English difficulty. Thus, at the request of my co-teacher, this year I wrote two very difficult speeches, considering the English level of the students. However, both students are strong (one because he learns quickly, and the other because of sheer determination). I have no doubt they will succeed.

On Sunday, exactly one day before my one-year-in-Japan date, I am off to the Philippines for some solo travel. Looking forward to island-hopping, the ocean, learning a few words of a new tongue, new modes of transport, and the overall intoxicating feeling of feeling lost in a new place.

海の日

Japan celebrates some great national holidays, one of which--Umi no hi / Day of the Ocean-- was this past Monday. Unfortunately the day-long rain prevented me from visiting the sea, or even going outside to enjoy the forest/river/dragon lake/ golf course.




However, some friends came over that night and we celebrated in our own way with taco night (and thus respectfully abstaining from seafood).

Diez Cosas

A few things I'm against this week:

1. The past 5 days of rainy, muggy, cloudy, and languorous weather. Ugh.
2. Being required to obtain a Japanese Driver's License, after being permitted to use an International License for the past year. (This is only required of folks from America and a few other countries, most foreigners can use IDLs indefinitely). Its expensive, a hassle, lots of red tape, and completely unneccessary.
3. One of my co-teachers, who yesterday, 5 minutes before my English Elective class, informs me I am to sing Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called to Say I Love You" acapella and solo. First, I only sing in three places: alone in my apartment, alone in my car, or (after a couple beers) in the karaoke box. Second, I never ever sing Stevie Wonder. Red-faced, I choked out about a half a verse to the students' horrified faces, then made my co-teacher sing the rest. She should have known better.
4. The National League lost, again.
5. Bombs and missiles in the Middle East and Asia. Of course, I am always against these things, but the news has been especially depressing the past few days.


A few things I'm for this week:

1. The student who gave me a "teraterabozu" doll/tissue puppet, which supposedly will make the rainy season abate.
2. The other student, who gave me a four-leaf clover she found outside the school.
3. No more earthquake wake-up calls.
4. Riding clean, Japanese trains without fear of being blown to bits.
5. My 10 days-away-and-counting trip to the Philippines.

Student verses

Last week we reached the poetry lesson in the 9th graders' textbook. This was one of my favorite lessons last year, as, despite the focus of teaching some grammar terms (by explaining the poem guidelines), the activity is quite communicative. Students are more expressive than usual, even if they only follow the model, and low level students seem to excel for reasons I'm not quite certain.

Students were allowed to write about anything, following the format of the examples in the textbook, and some from last year's 9th graders. Most of the poems are simple and clean, a few turn my head because of their topic and/or wording, and several are intricate enough to warrant several readings. Below are some of my favorites, and my own comments in brackets.


Notebook
Let's study
Writing, reading, learning
Let's get high grades
Fight
[A teacher's dream student]

Bee
Very work
Flying, flying, flying
Because they get honey
Busy
[This student seems to have a strong sense of the Japanese work ethic and duty]

Everyday
It's travel
Losing, searching, finding
It is like a treasure hunt
Very hard
[Ahh, the quest for answers at age 15]

A soap bubble
Beautiful sphere
Flying, wandering, disappearing
Soap bubble is flying
Envy.
[And the yearning to escape]

Hayasaka Sensei
Cute man
Teaching, laughing, smoking
But he is heavy smoker
Don't do it.
[Take that! Big Tobacco]

Meat
Delicious beef
Smelling, tasting, eating
Yakiniku is good
Wonderful
[My thoughts exactly. What's more poetic than meat?]

Mona Lisa
Strange picture
Smiling, terrifying, seeing
But very popular
Wonder

QUEEN
Nice band
Singing, playing, beating
They play very well, especially the chorus
Alive
[This kid also loves Deep Purple and the Sex Pistols. What generation gap?]

Hair
Forever friends
Falling, leaving, going out
Many people lose friends forever
Very poor
[Strangely, this was not the only poem about going bald]

Sky
Blue sandglass
Flowing, flowing, changing
Be not same anytime
Time

Flower
Bright colors
Looking, watching, touching
The cherry blossoms are gone
Sad
[This from one of the poorest and quietest students, who finished in mere minutes while some top students labored the entire class]

Pictures
What's this?
Crying, crying, crying
It is really sad
Strange
[The last line originally said 'Me", but he changed it just before turning it in]

[The Japanese have a keen sense of fleeting life, and I think these last three are good examples of that. They reminded me of a quote from Zora Neale Hurston's Dust Tracks On a Road, with which I will close]

"It was strictly a matter of time. It was true for the moment, but the next day of the next week, is not that moment. No two moments are anymore alike than two snowflakes. Like snowflakes, they get that look from being so plentiful and falling so close together.”

"Jimi"

Yesterday I went bowling with a Japanese friend and about 20 strangers, all members of a volleyball club. After the introductions, I immediately impressed all by rolling a strike on my first frame, and then collected 8 spares in the first game, leaving only 3 pins standing. Somewhere about the 6th or 7th frame, my technique was described as "jimi", amongst great laughter. Not understanding the word, I asked for a translation. No one seemed to know exactly in English, but one woman offered "not gorgeous", again drawing much laughter. Later, after consulting the electronic language dictionary, we discovered the true meaning to be closer to "plain/simple/steady". The second game only proved the woman's point, as I again rolled few strikes and many spares and placed a respectable, but not gorgeous, second place.

Later in the afternoon at the post-bowling BBQ, for a reason I've forgotten, I attempted to explain irony, in a mixture of Japanese and English, to about four people. Not having any success, we again checked the aforementioned dictionary, but they still didn't seem to grasp the idea, even after reading the Japanese entry. Upon relaying the story to an American friend, he made the excellent point that it would have been ironic if they HAD understood.

The morning shakes

One day last week I woke up and my first thought was that I hadn't felt an earthquake, not even a tremor, in quite some time. In my half-sleep the thought drifted to the destruction of the tsunami of a year and a half ago. Seconds later, the tatami began to vibrate, waking me completely, and the objects in the room began to jiggle and shake. Luckily, the quake never intensified and after grumbling for 30-40 seconds, abated.

Last night, shortly before going to bed, I wearily read the accounts of Kim Jong-il's missiles dropping into the Sea of Japan.

This morning, a violent, though fortunately short quake, roughly awakened me, and for an intense, brief second gave me cause to think Nuclear war had started.