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Days of Rest…Testing Is In Session

So, testing is going on at middle school, and that means that there’s nothing for me to do (minus correcting a stack of “diary sheets” that a second-year class had to fill out for the elective English class).  It is common for me to have much of the day to myself, pondering such deep mysteries as, “how early is too early to start eating my bentou?”, while racking my brain desperately for things to do on the internet (stuck in my ways at checking mail, reading fan fiction, checking site, checking Penny Arcade *get somewhat perverse pleasure reading this at school*, checking mail, reading fan fiction, checking site…and on and on in a never-ending loop of horror).

Testing time, though, has a totally different feel to it, because I know I’m not going to class at all that day.  And all the teachers are either giving tests, or grading them.  And thusly it’s really quiet.  And they’re too wrapped up in what they’re doing to give me the time of day.

So I have been humoring myself while at work in various ways in order not to fall asleep(unlike the teacher two desks down from me who caught a little shut-eye yesterday during one testing period).

Some of the things I did between yesterday and today:

• brought a can of corn to school, in case, you know…I needed the corn…or a heavy blunt object
• sketched a pic of me stretching, then a pegasus, then me again…drinking a Diet Coke
• liked the Diet Coke sketch enough to ink and color it in with my markers.

I’m wearing my birthday watch, Mom!

• read fan fiction for six hours straight
• played my new keitai’s fishing game
• played Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney for half an hour in the bathroom (better than sleeping in there…and I was precariously close to that at my desk)
• posed a figure/model for about fifteen minutes for the perfect look. It will stay like that until I leave today. (the second pose was just done, right before I post this and leave for the day)

He’s almost too poseable! Even the shoulders, feet, and hamstrings move in order to negate “bizarro look”.

• read Bridget Jone’s Diary, and laughed
• send about a billion text messages
• ate my bentou early, then went to Geo to look at used games over the lunch break
• looked meaningfully at my unopened Japanese study materials
• updated my blog…finally!…including two new posts (three, after I post this one!), sidebar game update, and gardening update
• ate chocolate and drank diet coke in a desperate attempt to stay awake (thus the drawing’s muse is discovered)

So, hopefully this isn’t anyone’s usual routine, though if it is…I can understand why.

And if a teacher is reading this, it’s all fiction.  I made it all up.

Bachelor Bentou

’cause I know you want to know what I’m eating at my middle school when I order food…

Here is the website for the bentous that are brought in for all of the teachers and staff who mark their name on a certain list at school every day.

Our bentous are the 450円 ones, though we apparently get a 50円 discount (ohohoho!).  What you see also comes with a small bentou of rice.  It’s filling in an unneccesary way.  They are different every day, and apparently the image on the website is the food for that day. I know it’s accurate at least for today, since I just ate mine.

Usually, teachers have their own bentous for school, but there are some who don’t.  I call those who buy the bentous, “bachelors”, because they’re always men (besides me, but, you know…I don’t count) who don’t have anyone making their bentoes for them before work.  Now, I’m sure some of them are married.  As a matter of fact, I have yet to actually meet anyone over a certain age who isn’t married.  I think that after time, they’re assigned a spouse.

Also, I think the calories listed for the bentou I order is wrong. As a matter of fact, I believe it’s a damned lie! I think they ignore the rice when making their calculations. Evil, evil, types they are!

At Least the Parties Improve When You’re Older

Oh, how lazy I’ve been these past few days (*cough*weeks*cough*).

Rather, to cut me some slack, I’ve either had a lot of stuff going on, or really haven’t wanted to deal.  iPhoto comes into this, too.  Something about it being the bane of my picture-taking existance.  But that’s for another time and place.  I’ve found a lovely *awesome* photo editing widget that doesn’t make my computer scream (I know it’s screaming whenever I start wanting to) when it’s time to download photos from my computer (or, let’s be honest…whenever I open the damned program).

I’ll keep this entry dedicated to my birthday… on June 20th.

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I had to do some time at my favorite *insert dripping sarcasm* elementary school that day.  During lunch, kids from the class I would be eating at (second graders) came to fetch me and my food.  There was an orange juice box on it that had made me quite happy to see.  They took it off, saying something that I didn’t understand.  All I knew was that they removed my juice box.  I sulked all the way to class.  I sulked after eating my food, too, declaring to all students in my group how, “I want my juice box!”, in a childish manner.  They thought it was funny and laughed at me.  Or taunted me.  Either way, it wasn’t cool.  Actually, it was freaking hot.  Like, stifling, really!  One student took pity on me and started fanning me with her pencil board.  It was nice.  Another student thought it looked like fun, and started fanning me, too.  That was nice, too.  Somehow, the word got out that it was cool to fan me.  I then had about six kids fanning away (the boys being a bit more elaborate, as in they were jumping and flailing madly).  In total, I must have been fanned for at least ten minutes straight.  Can’t deny them their fun!

And then they decided that the next “cool” thing would be to give me backrubs.  They took turns, saying things roughly equivalent to, “this is how my mom likes me to rub her back”.  They were obviously experienced in this.  It made me laugh when one girl was all trying to find some spot on my back that her parent had instructed her on.  She was all, “now, where was it…”.  It’s good to see that parents never change.

And then I went back to my desk in the teachers’ room…and there was my juice box!  Perhaps there is a god!  I mean, what more proof do you need!!  Fanning, backrubs, then juice??  A perfect birthday already.

And then I went to the middle school.  I decided to tell the students I knew in the art club I’m part of that it was my birthday.  The first girl I told (who was actually outside of the classroom the club was in, with a teacher) was all, “I don’t know English”, then all “I don’t know what to say in English” after the teacher told her what I said.  She just looked confused, with an “I don’t want to be here” look on her face.  I made a disgruntled noise and went inside the room.  I told another girl that I talk to a lot.  Her face lit up and was all, “Uaaaa!! OMG!! Happy Birthdaaay!!!” with her hands all up in the air…literally startling everyone else in the room (I, myself, was no exception).  I was all, “Yay!  Woo!” weakly, suddenly very aware of everyone staring at me.  Some girls came up to me and asked me what my favorite food was.  I said, “My favorite food is takoyaki!”.  They immediately got to work drawing.  About half an hour later, they presented me with three different pictures, two of which had takoyaki in them.  Lovely!

My birthday was on a Wednesday, which means English Conversation Class day, but since it was my birthday, the students (keep in mind that the age range, minus one 15-year-old middle school student, was between late-30′s to early-70′s) arranged for a bit of an enkai-like birthday party at an izakaya.  17 people showed up, and about half of them brought presents for me (I have even more birthday cards)!!!  I hadn’t expected it, by the way.  They had asked me what I wanted earlier, and I replied with “a plane ticket to America” (in which they all, thankfully, laughed).  There was a cake that was far too small for everyone, so I took it home, still in its entirety.  I talked a lot to the middle school student about school and such *to the point where it almost bordered on gossip*.  I also told her I would burn her a CD of my favorite music.  I have favorite music in English, don’t I?…

Afterwards, the group went to karaoke.  That was good times.  The rule had been that they sing English songs so long as I sang Japanese songs.  It made me quite happy when a few of them actuually didn’t believe that it was me singing at first.  Go me and my pronunciation skills (and perhaps my singing skills, too?).

After that was all over with, I went to my favorite bar to meet up with a friend.  I had told the bar owner on several occasions that I would go there, not intending to have such festivities beforehand.  He brought out a piece of cake with my name on a little candy card.  That was so awesome that he went out of his way to get me that!  It really sucks that it will be closing this Saturday for good…  Damnit, I say.  All to hell, and all that.

Anyways, birthday was a win.  And being in a different country means that presents kept slowly trickling in.  The latest one was only two days ago! (all the presents were lovely, by the way!).

This year will be a good one.

But it still hurts ever so much every time a child asks me how old I am.

Not Again!

Oh no. In less than an hour I’ll be another year older…

Unless you take time differences into effect.

No, wait…it still doesn’t change that tomorrow’s my birthday.

*sigh*

27 will be good to me, though (minus the slipping away of my youth). I can feel it. It’s a good number.

Sight From the Conveyor Belt

And a there’s a little bit of the Japan I know.

Well, someone else managed to do the “cool” without me, and my friend back in Manhattan, KS (old school buddies!) put it to a song that just sounds…right!

Though I’m also posting the vid (to promote my own agenda, or course), please check out his site. The little games always humor me. As well as the site, but…yeah. Games!

If you haven’t seen this yet, it’s a video of some type of camcorder put onto the conveyor belt at one of the many conveyor belt sushi restaurants you can find all over Japan. You simply pick a dish from the plethora of sushi and other random plate-sized foods (such as fried chicken, “purin” *which would translate to pudding, ‘cept it’s more like flan*, fruit, fried octopus, green tea soba, etc.) and pay according to the types of plates you’ve accumulated. Right now, the average plate, with usually two pieces of sushi, is 105円, with the more expensive plates at 210円 (that’s about 80 cents and $1.60, respectively).

And I love it.

Anyways, that’s my story, and here’s the vid:

[youtube 6ntAB2OCoqU]

Good times, yeah?

“I am an ass”

During souji *cleaning time* today at school, one of the san-nen-sei *third-year, or 9th grade* boys who cleans in the room I’m assigned to meanders up to me. He likes to practice his English in such a casual “Hey, you know English! Hey, I know some English!” manner that it makes souji that much less painful. He had already told me today such gems as, “I don’t know Japanese” (he said this throughout souji)), and “I am from Japan”, both of which I responded with a “wow, really?!”.

So, as I said, he meanders up to me at the end of souji.

And he says, ever so casually…

“I am ass”

Totally in my teacher mode, I reply. “Nonono, it’s ‘I am an ass’. an ass. Repeat after me. ‘I am an ass’”. I mentally brace myself for him to say “I know!”, or rather the middle school English level of “yes!”.

He was all, “I am and ass”. I once more emphasize the “an” in the sentence.

He tries again.

“I am an ass.”

“Good! Good!” I say, laughing, heading for the teachers’ room. He likes my reaction as he smiles with a laugh. I’m guessing it’s because he knows what he is saying. I really hope so. I pause, wanting to make sure before I realize that I don’t know how to properly put it in Japanese.

Maybe I’ll check tomorrow.

And this is why I love kids’ English. Their embarrassment level at practicing random English is so much lower. This isn’t to say that the majority of them ever say anything more to me than “oh Chareetee!”, “hello!”, and “how ahh you!”, but still. Point being. An adult says something in English to me and I laugh, they immediately turn to their friends and say, “what did I say?”. A kid says something to me in English and I laugh, they’re all, “yeah, that’s right”.

And that’s awesome.

Lanyards Must Die

Well, this is just lovely.  For some reason, in order to keep all of the random parents who wander the halls (this doesn’t happen, by the way) from having to ask our names, everyone who works at my school is now required to wear name tags that hang on lanyards.

And in a society of small-chested people, I’m sure the lanyard idea was an obvious choice.  Why, the name tag even has a little plastic hook on the back in case the men want to hang it on a shirt pocket.  “How brilliant!”, they all said as the product was agreed upon.

But, you see…I’m not “small-chested” by any means, and this doesn’t just apply to Japan.  I envision that the name-tag-look on me will be parallel to that of a hanging signpost, flapping half-hazardly in the wind. Perhaps a better parallel would be that of a climber, rappelling off of the edge of a treacherous and deep ravine, only to find herself at the mercy of an unforgiving gale-force wind who bats her about like a plaything.

So, I have two options: re-size it to where it sits above my chest (which will look quite stupid, I presume), or keep sending the name tag back indefinitely with the complaint that they spelled my name wrong (with it sounding more like ”Agamemnon” than “Charity” by the end of the semester).  I prefer idea #2, where the idea is funny, rather than #1, where it just looks funny.  I’ve already requested the tag to display a different style of spelling (it’s actually a real complaint, but who knows what I’ll do once tag #2 arrives).

So that’s my horror of the moment.

Keep This in Mind, But Please Don’t Take it to Heart

Bad days happen. 

As there are highs and lows to just about anything out there, you shouldn’t be surprised to find out during your stay that the JET Program is no exception.

And in an extreme way, for many.

Including me.

Now, I generally make a point of not writing posts about every little thing that bugs me, because it will read as though I’m either a whiner, or that living here in this type of work, is terrible.  And this is not the case.  Nevertheless, I was requested by a friend to mention this latest incident because, honestly, this is not an uncommon occurrance for many people in my situation, and it’s only nice that I let you guys in on at least one person’s experience with this.

And here’s the lowdown:

I had started feeling really underappreciated at work (hands up to all ALTs out there who feel underappreciated at work!).  Here are some examples:

• Teachers stopped using my ALT Schedule to set up class times.  Instead, I would learn about a class when they would say, “by the way, can you teach three classes with me today?”.  This gives me no time to make any input on the lesson plan.
• Of the three grades I “teach”, only one teacher even brings me to class on a regular basis.  I don’t even know the 9th graders’ faces.  I’m not sure if they even know my name.
• The elementary school teachers, in general (there’s one school that’s good about at least participating somewhat…and that’s one out of four), not only don’t team-teach with me (meaning that instead, I teach, they sit down and zone out), they’ve never even seen the weird lesson plan the school sends out for their class (“teach fruet. Count 1-20. Play game wth numbers. フルーツ・バスケット”).  I can’t even pretend to have a discussion about it before class because they have no clue.  They just shake their head “yes”.
• Said lesson plans from elementary schools, even ten months after I arrived, will still have my predecessor’s name all over it…because they just pulled last year’s lesson plan and didn’t bother to look over it.
• No one thinks it’s necessary to tell me vitally important things that are about to happen.  This makes me have to constantly nag people over what this says, or why ”ALT” is on the board over there (they like to put me down for imaginary prefectural meetings…somehow they’ve never been able to get the date down correctly).  There’s nothing like having my teachers going, “so when are you leaving today?”  “…for what?”, I ask.  “For your meeting in Yoshizuka!”.  “I don’t have a meeting in Yoshizuka”.  “Sure you do!  It’s on the board!”.  “But the meeting was last week…”.  Perhaps I should have just smiled and said, “I’m leaving now!”.  As for the physical check-up the teachers had to do, I was told to read the English handout I got (it was in Japanese), and only after I mentioned how the high school ALT in my town had to refrain from eating or drinking the midnight before the exam did they also figure out that I, too, had to refrain from it.
• The principle told me that my main efforts needed to be put into saying ”good morning!” when I arrive at school, and “good work!” when I leave.
• During a common occurance where a group of teachers shout at a traumatized student for about 15 minutes straight (taking turns, of course), loud and harsh enough for me to grimace repeatedly, I would ask a teacher what happened to cause this bout of teacher bullying, and they would always say, “I don’t know”.  Honestly, if I understood Japanese, I would have been able to know what had happened standing outside the building (I wish I were joking).
• I will suddenly find myself in an empty teachers’ room, wondering, “…where did everyone go?”.
• After wondering where everyone went, a straggler teacher wandering the halls will pop her head in and say, “everyone’s in the gym for the *insert random event here*”.  Hurry up!
• Even after being here for ten months, people still ask me during enkais “can you eat sashimi?  wow!  you use chopsticks very well!”.  I know they’re trying to be polite but…give me a wall so I can beat my head against it.
• No one talks to me first.  Even the English teacher who sits next to me.  Occasionally if no one’s looking, there will be small talk in Japanese between a teacher and I, but as I said…only if no one’s looking.
• They don’t care that I have a very limited vocabulary and may need a translator…especially when it involves visiting doctors who are at school for the teachers’ physical exam.
• I can’t tell if I’m doing something wrong or not, because no one will ever actually approach me and say anything until it’s become an ingrained part of my schedule…because…I don’t know…they think that having me screw up all the time makes them look better?  I have no clue.
• People seem to think having nothing to do all day, or doing mindless work entails a lucky and enviable ALT, and that it couldn’t possibly be taken as a slight letdown for the ALT as to where they thought their station in life should have been at their age and amount of schooling.  Yes, I do sometimes wonder why I needed a college degree for this job (before I remember that it’s required for all Japanese working visas).

I could also mention the eikaiwa that I teach every Wednesday that always leaves me in a state of panic, both the day before, and the day of classes.  Sheer, utter panic.  I remember getting accepted into the JET Program thinking, “whew!  At least I won’t ever have to teach eikaiwa!” (didn’t enjoy the class I had to teach for my certificate in Canada at all).  I nearly had a moment when I found out that I was one of the lucky very few that had to teach them for their towns.  Son of a gun!  That it’s also on a Wednesday doesn’t help my mood.  Movies are almost half off for women on Wednesdays.  And I’m a woman!

I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface here.  And that bothers me after looking at the list. 

Anyways, what I’m getting to is this little story:

For the past month, I was hitting a bit of a low.  I was eating a lot, and having trouble sleeping, and even when I did get a full night’s sleep, I never felt rested (this hasn’t changed yet, by the way).  I was chalking all of this up to a delayed culture shock low and homesickness.  At the same time, though, I wasn’t feeling up to chalking “teachers being jerk faces” to culture shock.  That was just “teachers being jerk faces”.

So, about two weeks ago, I had an anxiety attack, with a bunch of teachers nearby in the teachers’ room.  I’m sure everyone noticed, because I was pacing back and forth, breathing rapidly, saying repeatedly in a quiet, breathless voice, “i can’t do this i can’t do this”, with a crumpled up bizarro elementary school class outline in my fist.  No one said anything.  They pretended like nothing was going on.  I really hate that.  But perhaps they were afraid of scary big Charity turning into The Hulk and saying “Charity Smash!”.  Maybe they were just trying to be polite.  I still don’t know.

Things weren’t getting much better afterwards, either.  I was ecstatic about the conference, because it was a break from the usual.  For a few days afterwards, I felt like I could, once again, make a difference.  Until the usual dismissive teacher attitudes continued.  And it can really wear on you to know that you are perceived more of as a nuisance that they have to deal with than as someone who can contribute in a worthwhile way.

So basically this had all been piling up on me, and yesterday, during the teachers’ physical exam time, I just kindof lost it.  No screaming, no ranting, just a lot of crying in the bathroom (and in front of two nurse/ doctors…but they don’t work with me, so perhaps all’s good on that side).  There is more to what led up to this moment, but what really matters is that it was totally the straw that broke my back.  Small in retrospect, but that’s all it took.

I am living in a little bubble where I am just an observer.  I can see everyone, but they can’t see me.  People are all around me, but I am totally isolated, and totally alone.  Honestly, the only people who talk to me are the students, which is why I’m so torn as to what I should do.  I want to see the current 8th graders graduate, but that would mean that I will have to sign up for another year!  Perhaps after I get through my current 14-month sentence, one more go won’t sound so horrible, especially with the bonus of seeing my favorite grade graduate.

Back to the story.  I composed myself enough to go back up to the teachers’ room, grab my things, and tell my supervisor that I wasn’t feeling well (no lie there) and needed to go home.  He told the vice-principle, and I left.  I spent the rest of the day trying to get a hold of myself.  I called my grandmother and good friend in Tulsa.  I ate tasty oreos with not-tasty Japanese milk (seriously though…what’s up with Japanese milk?).  I made delicious bean barley soup (I love making soup).  I talked to friends in Japan who could relate…that really helps.  I even went to sleep early (which would be a bit before 1AM, but as I said, I’d been having trouble sleeping, so that’s pretty early).

Went to school today and still felt horrid.

And now I’ve lost my appetite.  Stomach hurts, but, you know…not hungry.  Perhaps I should be happy?  For once I’m not stuffing my face when I get depressed.  But the lack of appetite only happens during worst case scenarios.  I hope it’s temporary.

I’m left with certain thoughts flitting through my head.  One is the whole, “At what point do you bend to their culture, and at what point do you need them to respect your own?”.  While I am in this totally foreign environment, it would be ignorant for me to assume that I can get by without taking into consideration the culture around me.  But at what point must I go, “I have a culture too, and they also need to respect that”.

There comes a time in most ALTs’ lives where a similar scenario will happen (though hopefully without the drama of my story).  Just know that you will eventually pull out of it, as I know that I will for my own.  Keep a network of friends, both in Japan and where you come from.  Stay connected (blogging helps me…obviously).  Keep things around you that are comforting.  Take up a hobby outside of school (gardening, or rather pulling out the constant weeds, is mine). Try to keep work at the work place. Don’t, for instance, write a blog for the majority of your worktime on a Wednesday unless you already have your eikaiwa planned out for that night.

…was that just a mental warning to myself? I guess I’d better end this now!

p.s. I still love Japan, people! Don’t back out now!

Questions about Japan or JET?

As the date nears for those selected by the JET Program to come to Japan (end of July for Group A…just around the corner!), I would like to remind anyone out there that I am full of, you know…information and stuff. Any questions are fine (even if they aren’t JET related), from what omiyage to bring for your neighbors (hand towels, by the way), to how easy it is to get medical treatment. Any questions are fine, and if you think they’re too personal for the comment page, just e-mail me (as mentioned in the last post, found on the “about” section).

There are some rumors about Japan that are a bit outdated:

• You can now buy real peanut butter at Sunny (a large grocery store chain), and not just that bizarro peanut cream.
• Low-dose birth control is not hard to get here (at least it wasn’t for me, though I had to get a *shudder* blood test). Just ask about women’s clinics to your predecessor (or as I did, ask a friend to take you the first time). It’s still good to have a supply at home for your parents or someone to mail you (only one month’s supply at a time in the mail), just in case.
• Leave your books at home. They have far more Japanese language study resources (and English language *’specially eikaiwa* if you’re level is high enough to reverse the languages of study) here, as well as English-language book sections. Of course, the larger the bookstore, the larger the selection. And the English language books are always next to the Japanese language study resources.
• If you’re blessed enough to be near a Costco, you won’t have to forget the taste of real pizza…or a lot of food, for that matter (such as real cheese,you’ll only find the fake kind in Japanese supermarkets).

And some things that still hold kinda true:

• Make-up is still stupid expensive, so have a bit with you before getting acclimated to the prices. This includes nail polish, by the way, where an average *small* bottle will cost from 400 to 1,000円 (3.25 to 8 USD). Expect eyeshadow to be from 1,500 to 3,500円 (12 to 27 USD).
• Nothing here is vegetarian, unless you make it yourself. Prepare yourself for lots of umeboshi onigiri, and the constant, “but you eat fish, right?”. No, by the way, I’m not a vegetarian…thank goodness.
• Almost all bread here is Texas-toast sized. Finding bread sliced less than an inch thick will seem like a victory to you. And just give up on whole wheat.
• Japan has such a drinking culture!  If you don’t drink, remember this sagely word of advice…you now have an allergy to it!  …unless you’re a girl, then just order oolong tea and be like the majority of women who don’t drink alcohol (though if you ask them why, they’ll also say that they have an allergy to it…go figure).
• You’ll only know what you’re eating at a combini (convenience store) if you can read katakana. My mom can attest to its importance. So learn it now. It will be your saviour, especially if you don’t know Japanese.

I’m going to leave it at this for now. Please ask me anything. Gives me something to do at work.

Whoa! Go Spam Karma 2!

Well, hopefully this will deal with the ridiculous amount of spam I’d been receiving.  I guess if for some reason you suspect your comments are being “karma’d”, send me an e-mail (found on my “about” page).

My shortest post yet!