WHERE A BIRTHDAY SUIT IS ALL YOU NEED

Looking around, I find myself in a winter wonderland that is one of the most picturesque sights I have ever witnessed. Mountains with snowy peaks surround me on all sides, pine trees have two inches of snow covering their branches, birds fly overhead struggling with all of their might against the winter wind, and beautiful white powder falls from the sky to coat the ground in a pattern that only mother nature can accomplish. As snowflakes fall on my face, they melt instantly from the steam that is rising from all around me. My body, which is sitting in one of the warmest baths I’ve ever been in, welcomes the cold water that the snowflakes leave behind. I lift my arm up out of the water, and it’s as if my body is smoking from an invisible fire on my skin. I’m as close to heaven as I could ever be on this earth.

Despite the bitter cold, I am as comfortable as can be in the Japanese onsen that I have traveled miles to enjoy. In this peaceful state, I forget the stinging cold walk I had to endure to get to the bath, and I lay back letting the warmth take away all of the stress from my body. The bliss that I feel can only lead me to one conclusion. The Japanese onsen is a magical thing!

An onsen by definition is a natural hot spring, but the word onsen often refers to the hotels and resorts that house these pools of paradise. Japan is known for their onsens because it is a country that is basically made from hundreds of volcanoes. I guess at least one good thing comes from these scary natural behemoths! The natural hot water that courses through the veins of Japan provides one of their greatest tourist attractions… the Japanese onsen.

One’s first experience in an onsen can be a stressful experience, as many things can prove to be in a foreign country with a completely different culture. But once the onsen etiquette is acquired, the experience is hard to match in comfort, beauty, and relaxation. Upon my arrival at the onsen, I pay my small fee of 700 yen, and I am given two towels. We are separated into groups of men and women (though this is not ALWAYS the case), and we enter our separate changing rooms. There, a small wicker basket or locker is waiting for me, and I strip down to my birthday suit leaving my belongings in the basket. Out of politeness, it is a good idea to try and cover up with your small towel out of modesty, but you’ll find that some will stroll around the resort with no fear. Being naked is something that is not looked at as awkward in this culture, and many have been going to onsens since they were children. It is definitely something a foreigner will have to get used to, but the reward is worth it! If you are clearly foreign, you can ignore the stares you get from just about everyone in the room. They are only curious about the foreign body, and being stared at is something you’ll get used to after a short time in Japan. Tattoos are often forbidden in onsens, but if you can cover it up, you’ll usually be okay.

After a quick walk from the changing room, I enter the onsen area where there is a small area for showering. I pick up my stool, set it in front of my mirror and showerhead, and take a seat. It is there that I must wash my hair and entire body before entering any of the pools. Once again, be sure you do this because you are being watched more than the average Japanese person! After I am completely cleansed, it is there that I am free to enjoy the indoor or outdoor onsen. Unfortunately, this particular resort has a decent walk to the rotenburo (outdoor onsen), and the birthday suit doesn’t provide me much protection from the chilling cold. I briskly walk down a flight of stone steps that may or may not have been colder than ice, and I make it to my destination.

The decoration was well thought out. The entire area is made of large uneven stone, Japanese lanterns are scattered throughout the room to provide minimal light, two walls are missing to allow snow to fall in and to provide a beautiful view, and large rocks are in the spa to provide seating. I feel like I was transported back in time to a beautiful Japanese castle.

I crawl into the onsen and just relax. Personally, I can’t take much more than a half hour in the pool as the water is incredibly hot, but it’s a wonderful half hour. As my body reaches a temperature that it can no longer stand, I raise myself out of the bath and prop up against a rock. The cold air cools my blood and it isn’t long before I want to submerge myself yet again.

After my body is completely relaxed and all tension has disappeared, it is time for me to shower yet again before returning to my normal attire. I leave the onsen without a care in the world and with muscles that feel like they’ve been massaged for hours. Nothing can touch me or excite me. I am at peace.

As of now, I’ve been to about five different onsens. My area in Japan is known for them since I live in the mountains, and I’ve even tried unique onsens where you are buried in hot sand for 15 minutes before your bath. Each experience is unique and leaves me wanting more. I have future plans to visit many onsens including a few at the top of the Japan Alps and other mountain ranges where the view is spectacular, looking over valleys and mountainsides. If you ever visit Japan, be sure to add this “must see” to your itinerary!

SO LONG, FAREWELL, AUF WIEDERSEHEN, ADIEU…

The end of the school year in Japan brings along the parting of ways for many within the school system. If you’re a teacher in Japan, you can’t get too comfortable with one school because the Japanese education leaders believe that teachers should be transitioned from school to school every 4-8 years. If you’re a part-time teacher, you may be moved every 1-4 years.

Within the teaching profession, there are two types of teachers… those that have passed the teaching exam, and those who still try every year to defeat this close-to-impossible test. To give you an idea of just how difficult this exam is, every year over 100 applicants take the test but only a handful pass. It is definitely a frustration among the teachers in my school, and it is discouraging for those who fail because no real explanation is given as to why they didn’t make the cut. It is a common belief in this area that the Akita exam is so difficult because there are so few children to teach in the Akita prefecture. This assumption makes sense because the decreasing population in this part of rural Japan has caused many schools to close in recent years. Part-time teachers are a steal because they are paid less, and they can have a lighter course load than full-time teachers. What is the saying? “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”… or at least at a discounted price. I think that could apply here if the rumors a true.

But I digress… the point of this entry is to discuss the goodbyes I have had to say in the past week. At my base school, I will say farewell to one of my favorite co-workers, Midori-sensei. She is being moved to an office job in Akita city, which is about 1 hour from my town. The city is actually two hours from this school, so her commute will not be the most ideal situation. I will personally miss the sweets she so often brings me in attempts to expose me to Japanese culture! Within this school, I have also lost another English teacher and the business teacher who has become a friend to me. Luckily, both of them are moving to Nishime High School where I also work, but I won’t see them as often as I work there far less than this school.

For the most part, teachers are moved within an hour commute of their home, but a few of the unlucky teachers are moved farther within the prefecture. For example, a science teacher at my school has to move his home because he was transferred to Yuzawa, a town that is about 2 hours from here. Given that they just found out their transfer information last week and the new year starts next week, they have little time to uproot their lives and get settled again. Can you imagine going through this every few years?

Along with the transfers come farewell ceremonies and enkais. Over the past few days my school has had their formal goodbye through a ceremony with all of the students. The strangest sight was seeing all of my manly baseball boys crying during the baseball coach’s goodbye speech. Yet even more shocking was the fact that the baseball coach cried and had to stop his speech. If you take a step back, you can understand the emotions that may be running through both teachers and students. In Japan, teachers are like parents. Students are at school from 7 in the morning until 8 or 9 at night. (If they’re in a club.) The baseball team is no exception to this as they are often the last students at school, practicing in the dark. The coach has the upmost respect from his players, and the players have a mixture of fear and love for their coach. Katsuta-sensei, often referred to as “scary” by his students, is definitely an intimidating man, but he is also very friendly. Watching him choke up on stage almost jerked a few tears from my eyes as well as he is one of the few non-English speaking teachers who tries to communicate with me.

Just this past Friday we said our informal goodbye with a farewell enkai. Again, each transferred teacher gave a goodbye speech, and drinks were poured for him or her all night. We thanked them for their efforts, wished them luck in the future, and toasted their accomplishments.

As I walk into work this morning, I find empty desks and gifts on my desk thanking me for my time teaching with the ones that are leaving. It is sad to see so many people leave, and I am of course nervous to see whom I will be working with in the future. I guess it’s all up in the air for now, but we’ll keep our fingers crossed that the new teachers are half as good as the ones that I’ve lost.

IN THE BEGINNING

Every once in a while I am reminded of why journaling is so great, and this past weekend was one of those instances. As I sat in my apartment on a lazy Monday (I had Monday off thanks to a national holiday), I was trying to entertain myself by watching movies and reading a bit of classic literature. As I grew tired of reading my novel by Austen, I went to the bookcase only to come across my journal. It had been a while since I looked through the contents of my past memories, so I decided to take a stroll down memory lane.

Now this particular journal is not very old since I started it when I moved to Japan, but nevertheless, memories are easily forgotten if we don’t remind ourselves of them now and then. As I flipped through the worn pages (it’s been through a lot!), I came across a quote that I recorded just before I left Japan. The quote is by Samuel Johnson:

The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.

As I peruse over the words, I can’t help but think of the truth that they hold. We can dream about the world as much as we want, but until we take action and explore the unknown, we will never know what is truly out there.

I laugh at my first entry in the journal. As my eyes take in each sentence, I can remember the excitement I felt at the time the ink first touched the page. I can’t help but think how right I was about my decision, even though I was incredibly scared with the idea of leaving everything that was familiar to me. It is this memory that I will share with you now. I hope you find it entertaining and possibly gain some insight into my thoughts during my last few months in the United States:

May 3, 2009

And the journey begins. I spent the last six months applying and waiting for an acceptance letter to the JET programme, and finally, it is official. I will be taking another life adventure and will be moving to Japan as of July 25^th.

Am I crazy? Possibly. I am quitting my job, and the business world in general, to go teach English in Asia. I justify my actions every day that I still work at “my company”. “This industry” is definitely not my cup of tea, despite the fact that I am often complimented on how talented I am at my duties. I have been unhappy for a while now, and I’m tired of waiting around for my life to change on its own. I truly believe you have to take destiny into your own hands sometimes… so I did.

Not to be critical, but every day I see people who are unhappy with their life, yet they refuse to take action. I do not want to be one of those people who look back only to regret decisions they never made or actions they never took. Even if Japan is the worst experience of my life, at least I won’t have the question “What if?”

Am I scared? At times. But I’d have to honestly say that excitement overpowers any feeling of doubt or fear. Life is too short not to take chances. The fears I have are of family members being hurt, growing old, or losing touch while I’m away, but all of these things can happen with me in Chicago. Living in fear is no way to wander this earth. Instead, I will wander with curiosity, intrigue, and adventure. I will answer my questions with experience. I will explore for new questions to ask. And I will take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself during my journey.

I never thought I’d have the chance to travel like this again, so I’m ecstatic to have the opportunity. Traveling was a dream I gave up for other dreams, but life has a funny way of working out. I’ve learned the best thing to do is just catch the wave that is this life and ride it out. Don’t have expectations as they rarely work out as you wish. To close, I’ll leave you with a quote from a movie… “The easiest way to make God laugh is to tell him what you have planned for your life.”

No more planning… just living in the moment.

Why is this entry so important to me? It’s because everything I said I still believe to this day. Japan has been an amazing adventure, and it’s not even close to being over. I’m thankful for my decision every day, and reading this again inspires me to push myself even further in my curiosity for the unknown. Not just traveling, but also to explore things I’ve never done, information I’ve never learned, and talents I’ve yet to acquire. There is so much to do, and life is too short!

DIDN’T YOUR MOTHER EVER TELL YOU, “PLEASE SLURP YOUR FOOD!”

Over the past few days, I have been in the company of someone who is visiting Japan for the first time, and this experience has reminded me just how different things can be here to a newcomer. One thing in particular that I found funny was how reluctant foreign visitors are to slurping their food in public. In Japan, slurping is a natural habit that occurs at every meal, and there is nothing rude about it!

Just last night I was at an udon restaurant with my visiting friend, and this particular Japanese food is rather difficult to eat for someone who isn’t accustomed to using chopsticks. For those of you who aren’t familiar with udon, it is a mixture of noodles and soup. The udon noodle is rather thick compared to other Asian noodles, and it is quite long. Our particular meal was niku udon, which consisted of udon noodles, beef and the broth. This dish proposes a challenge to first timers since you not only have to grab a slippery noodle, but must also get it onto a spoon without splashing the soup all over your table.

Watching my friend was entertaining to say the least. Given the fact that he is absolutely horrible with chopsticks, the meal moved at a slow pace. After getting enough laughs out of the ordeal, I recommended he try getting a piece of noodle in his mouth and then slurping the rest. The look I got was rather funny, and it came along with a complete refusal to slurp his meal. (That is until he got so tired of dropping noodles and splashing himself that he finally gave up and slurped.)

Now this may not be a significant Japanese experience, but it is funny to think about how accustomed I’ve become to a different life style. If you had suggested that I slurped my food a year ago, I also would have looked at you like you were crazy. Now I find it natural. In fact, slurping is a compliment to the chef in Japan because it shows that you are enjoying your food. Even during a traditional tea ceremony you are to sip your cup three times while making the slurping sound.

While the act of slurping is accepted in the Japanese culture, I realize it can be weird for those that were reprimanded for it during their childhood. Perhaps I’ll experience a reverse culture shock when I move back to America and find that others think I’m rude for slurping my food.

YOUR “HOW-TO” GUIDE FOR ATTENDING A JAPANESE ENKAI

After reading the title, many of you are probably wondering what an “enkai” even is. Well, have no fear because after this blog entry you will not only know what an enkai is, but you will also know how to behave at such an event.

The Japanese “enkai” is a drinking party. Pretty simple concept, huh? Not really. If one took only the face value of this word, then you would assume that all of the enkais in Japan are just a reason for people to get drunk. This assumption couldn’t be farther from the truth. Believe me, I’ve had my own struggles with this as some of my friends and family just assume I’m wasting my life away in Japan drinking every weekend. The truth of the matter is that enkais don’t happen that often, but these parties are a majority of what I write about in my letters back home. (After all, you wouldn’t want to read about the long days I spend at school or the weekends when I clean my apartment!)

In reality, the enkai is much more than getting together at your local bar to slam down some Miller Lites and shoot some pool. At the more formal enkais there are speeches, toasts, congratulatory remarks for “jobs well done”, dinners, conversations, and yes, alcohol. Despite the presence of beverages that are often looked down upon, the enkai is an opportunity to get to know your co-workers or acquaintances in a more personal environment. The Japanese society is built on respect and courtesy, so in everyday situations, it is easy to sometimes lose the connections you would normally make in a relaxed setting. At an enkai, Japanese people “let their hair down”, if you will, and take down the guard that is so often blocking others from getting to know their true personalities. I would hate to think what my experience would be like without these get-togethers. It has been enkais that have truly opened the doors for getting invited to future outings with Japanese people, and finding out similarities between them and myself.

The enkai can be intimidating your first time, especially if you don’t know the language. So how do you successfully survive an enkai, you ask? Here are some pointers for you if you ever find yourself at one:

-Always wait to be directed to your seat. In Japan, the order of seating often depends on the importance of each person. This could depend on age, title, reason for the enkai, or a number of other factors.

-The most important thing at an enkai is to wait until everyone else has started drinking or eating before you dig in to your meal or drink. “Kanpais” are a huge part of the Japanese culture, and they are always carried out before anyone takes a sip or a bite of the evenings’ indulgences. A kanpai is a toast. At the beginning of the evening, the head of the party will stand up to give the kanpai. At this time, it is polite to sit in the seiza position (Japanese torture). At the end, everyone will shout “kanpai” and clink glasses. (You can now drink or eat)

-Before you take your first bite, say “Itadakimasu”. I’m still a little unsure of what this translates to, but think of it as your prayer before eating… only shout it out and do a semi bow.

-Keep an eye out for the people sitting next to you. Any time their drink is close to being empty, it is your responsibility to fill it up for them. This means that you should never pour your own drink either. Politely wait for someone to do it for you. A good rule is to fill any glass that is less than half full.

-Eating in Japan can be tricky, and you often don’t know what you’re eating or how to eat it. It is my rule of thumb to just watch everyone else and do what they do.

-If you must get something from a communal dish/bowl, use the end of your chopsticks that you are not putting in your mouth. Just turn them around and go for it.

-If there is someone that is being honored at the enkai or is important, you may want to go up to them and offer to pour them a drink.

-At some point, there may be some speeches made. Once again, it’s time for seiza! You may want to practice this sitting technique before your enkai… otherwise you may find your feet will completely fall asleep. If this happens, don’t try to stand up quickly or you’ll find yourself face-first on the floor.

-At the end of any meal, always say “Gochisousama deshita”, or “thank you for preparing this meal”. This is done to the person who provided or cooked the meal.

If you follow these simple steps, you should be just fine! I actually just had an enkai last night with teachers from Nikaho High School, but it was more casual than your typical enkai. We went after work and enjoyed some yaki niku (restaurant where you grill meat in the middle of your table). At get-togethers such as this, the formality isn’t there and you can relax! Thanks to last night’s enkai, I now have new snowboarding buddies!

THE CHILDREN MY MOTHER ALWAYS WANTED

There are times while living in Japan when you can’t help but feel a little lazy. Everything here is done to perfection, and with great attention to detail. If you walk into a fast food restaurant, you find that the place is spotless and employees give an insane amount of effort to their job. Really, it’s insane. If one mistake is made, you’ll hear about 20 apologies, and not just by the person who made the mistake. I’ve never before felt so bad for someone who has forgotten to give me a ketchup packet! What makes the Japanese experience even more surreal is not once will you find an employee in retail or fast food coming off as hating their job and wishing they were anywhere else but right there assisting you in your purchase. If only the McDonald’s employees would take note and do the same in America.

Being a teacher has given me the opportunity to see that this behavior is groomed from a young age. In Japanese society, you are taught to always be respectful, and a common phrase that you will hear is “ganbatte”. Ganbatte literally translates to “do your best”. I can assure you that the people of Japan do not take this saying lightly. It is said at work, at sporting events, in everyday activities, and in school. It’s funny when you compare this to the Americans’ habit of wishing “good luck”. In comparison, you really do see a difference in the mindsets of Americans and Japanese people. While we are relying on “luck” to get us through our tough challenges, the Japanese are simply giving their all to everything they do. They place responsibility in their own hands and will give 110% to even the most monotonous activities.

Now, I don’t mean to come off as harsh to the American population. If you read my past blogs, you will see that I have problems with certain things in Japan as well. Like everything, Japan has its pros and cons, but this is definitely an aspect of society that I’m adding to the pros list.

To further support my point, Japanese school children put American students to shame when it comes to being tidy. What’s even more amazing is they don’t ever complain about their responsibilities! It’s like they’re happy to clean up after themselves! If only my mother had the same experience when we were growing up… I’m sure there would have been a lot less yelling around the holidays. Sorry Mom!

My first experience that really made me take a step back and contemplate this phenomenon was after my English Club’s Halloween party. This was my first English club meeting, so of course I went all out. I had a scavenger hunt, Halloween decorations, food, drinks, confetti, toilet paper for dressing each other up like mummies, and a number of other materials that only destroyed the classroom. When the clock read 5:00, I knew it was time to let the students go home so I announced that they were free to leave. They just looked at me for a second and then turned back around to work at the table we were using. At first I thought a language barrier had reared it’s ugly head, but then I realized they weren’t actually working on the Halloween activities, but rather starting to clean up after their mess. I had fully prepared myself for cleaning up the room myself, but without asking them, my students tidied up everything around them. Not only did they clean up their food mess and the leftover paper from the crafts we made, but they also took down all of the decorations. After about 10 minutes of cleaning up the classroom, we were finished, and I had no further work to complete on my own. I was floored!

To assure you that this wasn’t a one-time deal, I’ve had numerous English club meetings since the Halloween party and the same thing happens each time. Just yesterday another teacher and I threw a party for some of our students that graduated last week. We had a potluck dinner at the other teachers’ house, and needless to say, after having 10 people dining in a small Japanese apartment, the place was a mess. When it came time to leave, they not only picked up the kitchen and straightened out the living room, but they cleaned their dishes before taking them home to their mothers. After that was completed, they continued to wash the dishes that my friend had left over from preparing her portion of the meal. It was difficult for my mother to get us to take our dishes to the sink, let alone wash them after a meal!

In addition to the responsibility that Japanese children take upon themselves, every weekday there is a 30-minute period when the students are in charge of cleaning their school. They sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms, and tidy up their classrooms. Each class has a rotation that they follow so they clean a different area of the school each week. Perhaps this is how the responsibility is first introduced to them?

This is one part of Japanese society that I truly enjoy, especially as a teacher. Seeing the respect that Japanese children have for other people’s things is amazing, and knowing that you’ll be taken care of wherever you go in Japan is an assuring feeling. I hope you get to experience it someday.

DOES THIS COME WITH INSTRUCTIONS?

I struggled with whether or not to write about today’s subject, but after contemplating on the appropriateness of discussing such a personal matter, I came to the conclusion that it was a part of Japanese culture that was new to me when I moved to Japan. Therefore, I’ve decided to march on with the theme, despite the somewhat “impolite” conversation topic.

The above photograph is of a Japanese toilet that I took at one of my schools. Have you ever encountered such a thing? Well, I hadn’t before moving to Asia, so you can imagine my surprise when I walked into a bathroom to find this lovely contraption waiting for me.

I had heard rumors of the Japanese toilet, but I was secretly hoping to find a Western toilet waiting for me at school. WRONG! After my initial shock subsided, I started to contemplate on how I was supposed to “approach” the dilemma.

After a few minutes, I finally figured it out! I won’t go into the details, as I feel I may have crossed the line already by even posting this topic, but here are a few helpful tips if you find yourself in Asia staring at one of these babies…

1 – Start with one foot on each side of the toilet

2 – Face the plumbing (this can also be used for support if you must)

3 – Make sure all cell phones, wallets, and keys are safely stored

4 – Then do what comes naturally

HINT: Many Japanese people find it polite to hold down the flush lever while they go about their business. It’s considered a courtesy.

CAUTION: You may want to work out the calves a bit before attempting this procedure. I never thought the call of nature could be such a workout!

If you ever go into a stall after an Asian tourist in the United States, this could explain why you may find footprints on the toilet seat. A large number of Asians actually think that our Western toilet is unsanitary, and I can see their point. That hasn’t changed the fact that many Japanese establishments are moving to the Western-style toilet. Japan’s Western toilet is much more fancy than ours, though. It involves a lot of buttons, a lot of nozzles, sound makers, a seat warmer for the winter, and disinfectant spray. Sometimes those are impossible to figure out too!

がんばって！

ONE OF THESE THINGS IS NOT LIKE THE OTHER ONES

Have you ever felt like you were completely different from everyone around you? Have you ever actually BEEN completely different from everyone around you? Welcome to my life, or the life of any expatriate in Japan.

If you’re lucky enough to be living in the “backwoods” part of Japan (the north), then you may find yourself feeling even more out of place than if you were in Tokyo or Kyoto. You see the north of Japan is the area that has held on to a majority of the Japanese traditions. You’ll find Tokyo and other big cities have been westernized, but up here in no man’s land, the Japanese traditional lifestyle is alive and well. Perhaps this is why most of the younger generations leave this part of the country as soon as they graduate high school. They go off to search for greener pastures, leaving the north to become an aging population as the years go by. I am personally grateful that I am living in this part of Japan, as I get to experience “true Japan”, but it does not always help the fact that being an “outsider” can often take it’s toll.

I know we’ve all heard about culture shock before, so it’s no surprise that someone would feel awkward at times when living in a foreign country. I’ve chosen to approach this topic because Japan is the third foreign country that I have lived in during my lifetime, and I feel out-of-place here far more than I have in any other country. Is this a terrible dilemma? Not at all. It’s just simply “how it is”, and it’s something that one should expect if they’re thinking about packing their bags and hopping on a jet to Asia.

This feeling of “uniqueness”, if you will, is something I encounter every now and again. Before we get into the details, I want to emphasize that Japan is absolutely amazing, and thus far, I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here. I have no desire to leave anytime soon, but that doesn’t change the fact that the life of an expatriate can get lonely.

I have recently had such an experience, and it has prompted me to share my feelings with all of you. As I mentioned in previous blogs, graduation was this week, and after the ceremony, there was a party held with the graduating students’ parents. During graduation I started to feel a bit like I’d never really belong in Japan.

Imagine if you will that you are a teacher to students who can never fully understand you. You can get close to them if you try, but it is nearly impossible to connect with them on a personal level because of the language barrier. You can’t really joke with them, you can’t help them in times of need, and you teach a subject that they are often frustrated with. As the graduation ceremony commences, you start to feel the fact that you will never be a homeroom teacher, you can’t have a simple conversation with the students’ parents about how amazing their kid is, and you will never be able to fully portray to your students how incredibly proud you are of them. Of course, I try to do all of these things, but it isn’t easy… and this prompted my feeling of worthlessness after the graduation ceremony. I want to be and do all of these things that I mention, but it’s just not possible with the limitations I am dealt.

Now the day wasn’t all that bad. I had an amazing time with my kids and the ceremony was a great experience. I am just focusing on the parts that led to my culture shock on this particular day.

After the ceremony, we were loaded on to a bus to go to the party. Most of the teachers were driving or getting rides with other teachers. I was one of two teachers who were actually on the bus, and the rest were parents. Not knowing anyone on the bus just threw my feelings in a direction that I didn’t want them to go... I sat on the bus and didn’t speak a word to anyone because they were either too afraid to speak to me or vice versa. As we arrived at the hotel for the party, I was not doing so hot, and I started to have images of how the party was going to play out. Most of these images involved me sitting at a table by myself with no one to talk to and feelings of being an outsider. I started to dwell on the facts that I spoke a different language, looked completely different from everyone around me, was away from my family, could never live up to the expectations I had for myself in Japan, and was just hopeless in general.

In a state of culture shock, I walked into the hotel lobby only to have my principal and vice principal call me over to them. They talked to me for about 15 minutes about a festival display in the lobby, but neither of them can speak any English. My point for telling you this is that they were trying to communicate, despite the difficulties. And you can tell that they really want to get to know me, even though a language barrier exists. I started to perk up a bit, but then the thought of the dinner came back into my mind, and I pictured myself alone at a table. That image was soon discredited when I walked into the room only to have multiple teachers call me over to sit at their table. We talked, laughed, and drank together throughout the dinner, and parents came up to me telling me how much their students loved me. It was then that my culture shock was officially over, and I ended up having one of the best nights throughout my time in Japan. There was even a future party scheduled with random teachers so we could all just hang out together.

Culture shock comes and goes. Though I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of it completely given my circumstances in Japan, I can appreciate every time that the feeling of loneliness is completely wiped away by my experiences as a teacher. The good far outweighs the bad, and you must remember this in times like the one mentioned above. Culture shock is an ugly monster, but it’s easy to beat if you’re prepared for it.

OFF TO BATTLE… ERR, I MEAN GRADUATION

To follow up my post from Sunday, I thought I’d write about the actual graduation ceremony. To say that I have mixed feelings about the affair would be an understatement. I was constantly asked what I thought about the Japanese graduation by my fellow teachers and co-workers, and for some reason, my mind couldn’t settle on a distinct answer. I’m torn between two opinions: that the militant ceremony gives off a sort of regal atmosphere or that the stiff nature of a Japanese graduation takes away the sentimentality of such an occasion.

Yesterday started off with yet more practice for the actual event. At this time, the entire ceremony was given a dry run, which included the speeches that would be given later on in the day. This is when the first red flag went up in my mind. I thought graduation was for the students, but giving them a full preview of the speeches before the actual ceremony began shows that graduation in Japan is in fact more for the audience. (1 point awarded in opposition of a militant Japanese graduation)

On the other hand, having the students act in such a rigid manner really set the mood for a prestigious event. The children entered the gym with their chins held high, and they walked in perfect rhythm with the music. If you think the lines on a gymnasium floor are only for sports events, you are seriously mistaken! They did not falter from these lines in the least bit, and once again, the students’ turns were quickly and smoothly performed at a 90-degree pivot. I felt as if I was marching into battle rather than a school ceremony. The students bowed in unison (thank goodness for all of that practice), they sat at the same time, they stood up together, and their gaze never once left the stage. This magnified the importance of the event and made you feel like the day was incredibly special. (1 point awarded in favor of a militant Japanese graduation)

Before I approach the next subject, let’s keep in mind that I am a beginner in Japanese so my opinion may not hold much credibility. That being said, I found it odd that the speeches were given in such a dry manner. The faces of presenters were like stone and no jokes were made to make the audience laugh. One of my favorite moments at my high school graduation was listening to some of the memories of my fellow classmates. The two speeches that were actually given by students were read from a paper and delivered in monotone. I will say this though, some of the teachers cried during one of the speeches, so I obviously lost something in translation. I just wish I could have seen the students having more fun, and enjoying their last moments in their school. (1 point awarded in opposition of a militant Japanese graduation)

And finally, I have come to highly respect the act of bowing. Attending our graduation were some important political figures within the board of education and our prefectural government. As they entered the gym in the formal manner, which is so common in Japanese society, each visitor bowed to us. For each of these visitors, we exchanged the bow and counted ichi, ni, san (1, 2, 3) until we could come back to a standing position. This showed the ultimate respect for our company. Did I mention there were about 20 visitors? Despite me feeling similar to a jack in the box, the act itself is such a courteous welcome, and I have come to love that part of this culture. (1 point awarded in favor of a militant Japanese graduation)

As teachers, we were seated alongside our third year graduating students. I cannot bring myself to say that the American graduation is “better” than the Japanese graduation, because after the ceremony was finished, the students stand up and turn in their militant way to their right. This brings them face to face with us, their educators. In Japanese high schools, the teacher is seen as a parent figure, and is thus treated in such a way. As I stare at the children I’ve grown to love over the past 6 months, I see tears gleaming in their eyes, and few are sobbing uncontrollably. This just proves the point that graduation was special to them, even if it was different from what I experienced. They stare at us for some time, with a huge amount of respect in their eyes, and a little fear of what is to come in the next few months. It was then that I actually shed a tear, despite my apprehension of the ceremony itself. I felt proud to have contributed to their success, and sadness that I would no longer teach these particular students.

I don’t want to end on a sad note, so I will say that the students cheered up and were as lively as ever after the ceremony. The teachers worked their way to a hotel reception hall in a nearby city where we celebrated the success with the third year students’ parents. It was a wonderful evening filled with delicious Japanese food, beer, and sake. The parents showed their appreciation to the teachers by working their way around the room and filling our glasses. In Japan, it is a sign of respect to fill someone else’s glass with alcohol/drink, and often I had multiple parents just waiting in line to fill my glass. If it happened to be completely full, they would stand there until I drank it down so they could fill it to the top. It was nice to feel appreciated, and I can now see where some of my students’ get their personalities.

I am actually looking forward to participating in next year’s ceremony, and I can just imagine how emotional it will be after being at my school for the entire year this time. I am already close to a lot of my second year students, and I hope to only grow those relationships throughout the next year.