Narrator’s Note August 2020: In August of 2005, I moved to Toyama, Japan to teach English. I was 22 years old, had only gone to Mexico once on a senior trip, did not speak Japanese, had no training as a teacher, was terrified of flying, and was living alone. In the interest of sharing my origin story, I felt I had to include writing from the time in my life that planted the seed of living abroad. I am including these Myspace- my god, I know- blogs of my year in Japan. Photos have been added retroactively, as when I was originally writing I had to go to an internet cafe, and I only had disposable cameras. I eventually bought a laptop and a digital camera, after half a year of Luddite living alone in a foreign country for the first time. What a time to be alive.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Hey, we only MAKE it, we don’t use it
Current mood: confused
A WOMAN WAS HIT BY A CAR IN FRONT OF MY WORK LAST NIGHT AND IT TOOK 15 MINUTES FOR AN AMBULANCE TO COME BECAUSE NO ONE COULD FIND OUR SCHOOL.
Now, before you scoff at that time frame, bear in mind this is a small town for Japan, and there is no traffic, anywhere, at this time of night. The hospital is maybe a ten minute car ride with lights, people, and traffic during the day time. No, what took so long is the way Japan assigns addresses to places. They just kinda hand ’em out randomly, hither and thither, based on things like when the building was built, and numbers don’t go with the building, but with blocks. (narrator’s note August 2020- you can see this link for a more detailed explanation of the confusing nature of the Japanese address system).
Things like “order” and “systems” don’t apply to neighborhoods and buildings, as much as they may be liberally and strictly applied to rock gardens or tea ceremonies. Any guide book will tell you this, which is why it is good the taxi drivers are competent and honest. Even people in the same small town have to go by landmarks and convenience stores to get/give directions to actually get you where you need to go. The fact that I receive packages is a miracle I am always amazed to be blessed with.
So, I stood at the door and watched my co-workers drag this poor lady out of the intersection, and listened while it took Manager about three minutes just to relay what had happened (after all the customary niceties and polite greetings of a Japanese phone conversation) and then get onto the real business at hand of relaying the address. I finished cleaning the windows, I walked to the back, put up the cleaner, washed my hands, got my books together, did attendance, put on my coat, chatted it up with the other teachers, and as I was walking out of work I see a tiny little ambulance going reeeeeeaaaaally slow- STOPPING for a red light when NO ONE is on the road- and then cruising up all chill like to the lady.
Everyone gets out calmly, no big deal, taking their time. It was totally bizarre. And this is not the first time I have noticed a sluggish little ambulance, with a siren that is heavy on the bored and light on the urgent, ambling its way through town. Between the address problem and the slow train ambulance, I’d have better luck if I walked to the hospital.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Tis the season…FOR ETERNITY!
Current mood: cold
It is almost the end of March, so let’s just say it’s already April. Last weekend the sun was out for two straight days without any rain. I was so happy I didn’t know what to do with myself. Monday, Tuesday, warm and warm. I skipped off to work with only a scarf around my neck, no jacket, I was free.
Today? It rained all morning, grew tired of being half ass, and decided to snow. Yes, snow. And it wasn’t just a few curious flakes hanging out, stoner snow that had been passed out on the couch all winter and had just now decided to do something with itself. No, this was a thick flurry that lasted a little over two hours.
I like snow. It was great to have a truly white Christmas, not just a thoroughly frozen one with just enough frost to let everyone in Texas exaggerate as they always do and say “See? We get snow TOO! Everything here is awesome and the best and the biggest and stuff!”. But that was Christmas. And then it was February, but I let it slide. March is, so I’m told, supposed to come in like a lion, and so I felt that it was only right for there to be a blizzard on my birthday weekend. But now? Where is the out like a lamb? I mean, the Narnia series was awesome, and I like lions, but I definitely like lambs more- especially roasted with mint jelly. But I digress.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Jill Carroll is safe and sound…
Maybe there is hope for this world- American journalist Jill Carroll, whose “date to be killed” has long, long since passed, was released onto the streets of Baghdad. Just like that. Her captors simply took her in a car, opened the door, and told her she was free to go.
Can you even begin to comprehend what she must have felt? No, you can’t, and neither can I. She has been living for uncertain days and terrified weeks that rolled into months with the possibility of her imminent death over her head every single second- will it be today? are they planning it for later? how will they do it? will it be painful? will my family have to see it broadcast? All of the horrible possibilities…and suddenly with a click of a door lock it’s over.
She’s standing on the street. People are walking past her. They are laughing, or fighting, on their way about their lives, not knowing that the woman they are passing by is shocked to still have hers. I cried when I heard the news. What a jolt to your senses.
You have accepted the end of your existence, lived every minute not knowing if it was your last, and now your life is stretched out in front of you again, as if all that time when you thought you saw the end was just someone passing in front of the projector, getting in between the light and the screen.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Wait a second, that can’t be right…
April 9th is the seven month mark here in Japan. I only have five months of work left.
I don’t know if I can live in America again. I don’t ever want to leave.
that moment when the host country becomes more home than home
Monday, April 03, 2006
Sticky situations
I got a caramel/whipped cream/strawberry crepe last night. As I bit into it, the side burst and I heard a “slop” sound. I half heartedly looked down at myself, looked at the ground, and then kept walking and eating. It was dark, I was hungry, I was over it….
This morning I was getting ready to run errands and slid on my jacket. The right sleeve was sticky. That made sense, as I was holding the crepe in that hand. Then I went to button it. The entire front was a sticky, nasty mess. My fingers actually adhered for a second, and I had to exert mild effort to remove them. I took off the jacket in disgust, and with not a little amazement- that blob must have slid down the front of me, covering as much surface area as possible, before dropping off onto the ground, unnoticed, mission accomplished. I gathered my purse and left my apartment.
As I’m walking down the stairs, I notice a mass of hair stuck to my right shoe, and upon kneeling down I discover the entire toe and the side is covered with caramel and whipped cream crust, which is in turn covered in my hair.
It made me want another crepe. You have to respect that kind of tenacity.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Another day, another yen
Doop de doop de doop de doop.
Man I’m bored. I only have four classes today. All I’ve been doing is coloring flashcards for my classes.
It’s fun, don’t get me wrong, but I guess I never thought that my four years of college were preparation to be a professional prop colorer/babysitter. Who knew? At least I can listen to Sigur Ros while I do it. Maybe I should go get another crepe to occupy me…
Thursday, April 06, 2006
What time is it? Kancho time, unfortunately.
My two boys in a semi-private lesson were going gangbusters today, and, like usual, I had to just be grateful they were speaking English and participating, even if it was inappropriate. Once they get started a) they don’t stop and b) there is no official way to administer discipline at our school since the yen rules the day and they are paying. Here we are.
We had just learned clothes, and I pulled out a topic card with pictures of different items on it. As we started asking questions, for example “I have _______” things got out of hand, inappropriate, and therefore much more fun for everyone involved except me, the teacher who has to deal with this nonsense way more than I ever thought when I took this job.
One used his turn to switch up the game and said “I have panties….girl panties”. It just escalated from there. His answer to “What do you want?” was “I want girl panties”. “What do you like?” was “I like girl panties”. And, the best one, “What do you want to eat?” was “I want to eat girls”. No panties on that one.
Then he pointed at his friend’s crotch and said “I want to eat (insert Japanese word for penis)”. He wrapped up the chicanery by putting a yellow ball on his own crotch, and pronouncing in a majestic voice “I have three golden balls!”. When I told them to give themselves points on the board, he sauntered over and drew a very realistic penis, with droplets of urine serving as tally marks for his points.
If you can believe it, this was still stellar behavior because at least they were not chasing each other around the table, furiously trying to poke each other in the butt while screaming “KANCHO!” at the top of their lungs. Kancho means enema, y’all. So, to be really, really clear, I don’t mean poke in the butt, like, the butt cheek. No. It’s a straight for the center kind of deadly aim, and they are ruthless with each other. Oh, and the younger kids have no boundaries and even try to do it to me. Everyone just laughs if off if they are below six to seven years old, and I am considered the uptight one when I complain about it. So, I just have to deal with it and not turn my back on the kids in the seven and under class.
Let’s just say I’m a long way from the Octopus Garden preschool vibes in Texas.
Narrator’s Note August 2020: This article sums it up nicely.
Friday, April 7, 2006
Full of hammers, not a nail in sight….
I actually bought a book the other day entitled “What Should I Do with My Life?” or some such other nonsense. However, after picking it up to make fun of the self help bullshit I expected to find in it, I was drawn in. It’s like a sociological observation, just a chronicle of all of these people, and how they came to grips with what they wanted to “do” with themselves. Some of them fucked it up, or ignored it, made a ton of cash and left it all behind. What’s surprising to me is that it was oddly inspirational. Especially this one part, talking about a general “urge”, but one that has no direction. That is me at the moment.
I am an intensely passionate person, as cheesy as that looks in type. I feel just so filled up with anticipation of what will be, I really enjoy life. But I really have disliked every job I have ever had. I know, you’re thinking, um, you’re only 23. But I have been working at full time jobs since I was 14, and have had a myriad of them.
Nothing sticks to my bones, it just washes over me, something I put up with in high school because I had to work to pay for my school supplies and cheerleading uniforms (yes, I know, let’s not talk about it) and buy a car and pay for gas, and then, later, something I did full-time in full-time college in a desperate attempt to fend of the twin pillars of higher education: debt and debt.
Even now, with an easy job that pays more than enough for everything I need and things I don’t, with great co-workers, Japan is beautiful and fun and wonderful- I go to bed at night with an itch in my stomach and these yearnings behind my eyes that I can’t put a finger to.
It’s like there is this insatiable need within me, this role for which I am perfectly, freakishly well equipped to do well, but I have no fucking idea what it is.
being 23 is hard, y’all
My greatest fear is that I will drive over the road of my life the whole time with all of this bubbling under me and not realize where to stop to dig down and get it, just doop dee doo, making the loop from home to work to home to the kids and the man I married, banging it out and living for the weekend, but then not really doing much then either, and telling myself tomorrow I will do something. I have to do something that matters to me, that helps this world, and that lets me be creative- preferably in print.
And God help the next person who says “it’s all work! you do it and then you go home and make the best out of the time you have”. By my calculations, when I estimate the amount of sleep these feeble bodies of ours need, plus the time spent feeding them, most of my life will be spent at “work”, and this whole idea of shutting down your humanity at the punch clock like it’s a computer on hibernate is disgusting to me.
So I am an intelligent, creative, sensitive, kind, do-goodery kind of person who really wants to be surrounded by others of the same ilk, and I would like to feel that the little movements I make in the world are making someone else’s easier. If you happen to see that in the “Help Wanted” section of your local newspaper, please give me a call. I know not one person my age who is doing what they love. Not one. It breaks my heart to type it, and it leaves me a little breathless. Is that what will happen to me? Am I just some kind of egomaniacal glory whore, who thinks there is some “special” calling for me?
I promise I am not insane. I also promise that if I was, I would probably still say I wasn’t. And thirdly on the promise level, I am not drowning in despair. All of these thoughts are like the background muzack to the elevator of my days, up and down and up and down, repeat. I just want to have an answer for the question they always ask, you know? Maybe then they’ll shut the fuck up and I can walk away with my destiny in my pocket.
Friday, April 14, 2006
How can you stand up there and say that??
I just watched Condi Rice give a speech about how we need to act on Iran. Now, this is not going to be a comprehensive analysis of what we should do, I have learned from past experiences marching in the global demonstration against the Iraq War (that we didn’t stop from happening) that it doesn’t matter what I, the overwhelming majority of the world, and the U.N. think.
Ah, the U.N. That’s what made me feel compelled to write this little blog.
So, in her speech Condi was going on about how shitty Iran is because it is violating the wishes of the U.N. security council. They stand in “defiance”. Their “defiance” of the wishes of the international community will not be tolerated. She even stated the right of nations to take action to prevent other nations from not doing what the U.N. says they should (and I won’t even get into how many security resolutions Israel has broken, OR how just yesterday the U.S. rejected a move to demand that they stop air strikes over Palestine. I have no opinions on what we should do about that whole mess, but let’s not talk about who’s breaking what and then let Israel do whatever it pleases).
So, maybe it’s just me, but I laughed out loud. I guess now I know that the the United States gets to decide when the wishes of the majority of the world count, and when they are all just a bunch of “pussy ass peace loving hippie throw back traitors” (I was called that verbatim at a war protest). To clarify:
1) If the majority of the world agrees with us, the people we and the rest of the world think are bad are most definitely bad, and wrong, and are “defiant” in the face of global pressure.
2) If the majority of the world doesn’t agree with us, the people we think are bad are still most definitely bad, and wrong, and the majority of the world simply doesn’t have the courage and the vision to stand up to ______ to make the world a better place through the use of traditional tools of improvement and enrichment- bombs, guns, and missiles.
I know the last time I was thinking “How do we as a world population take on the challenges of the new century, how do we feed the poor, tackle AIDS, ensure that people have access to basic healthcare and education?” my immediate answer was “Bombs. For damn sure, bombs.”
2020 me reading 2006 me is depressed this is still a problem
Regardless of what you think on this topic, I think any logical person can see the hypocrisy of holding up the U.N. as some unbroachable law making entity, when we didn’t even respect it. And, that goes back to something I said over and over in the build up to the war- If the most powerful democracy and wealthiest nation in the world doesn’t respect the U.N.’s authority, why the hell would anyone else??
Blech. I’m tired and all I had for dinner was whipped peanut butter on a spoon. I just couldn’t believe what I just saw. We are going to blow ourselves up people. And as far as America goes, I side with Abraham Lincoln. I remember reading this quote a long time ago, and I just now saw it again recently.
“America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.”
I love you guys. I miss you. I’m looking forward to coming back home and being able to exercise my patriotism, which is seen by most people as being “an American hating crazy ass peace mongering liberal”. Hey, whatever you want to call it. I can’t stand by and do nothing when a country I love is doing things that I think are unwise, and damaging, and irresponsible. If I hated America so much, why would I take so much heat from fighting to see it do the right thing? If I hated America so much, why would I give a shit? Why would I do things I know will make people hate me, or think I’m stupid?
I am so tired of being told how much I hate America, by people who don’t even know fucking history, or who don’t even know the facts- no, we actually didn’t find any WMD’s in Iraq. Yes, we actually did work with Osama bin Laden and at one point we helped fund his efforts. Yes, we did give weapons to Saddam. Yes, our troops are now fighting at times without any body armor or clean water, and yes veteran’s benefits were slashed and so was combat pay, DURING THIS WAR. And, yes, Halliburton is a leech of a company.
Narrator’s Note August 2020: I participated in this global protest in college and was a vocal anti-war activist in the post 9-11 years (if this blog didn’t already make it clear). It’s infuriating to look back on this now that everyone agrees the Iraq War was a tragic mistake. The whole world said no, and the US didn’t listen. Now here we are, still in conflict.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Hangin’outmaxandrelaxin’allcoolandalleatin’somePEEPSoutsideoftheschool
So, I forgot it was Easter, and then I saw all of the glitter graphics in everyone’s comment boxes. Now I have myspace to thank for helping me to remember Jesus. Which, I am told, is crucial to being a good American. Just remember him though, and bring his name up a lot, don’t try and do anything he said like, help poor people, and live in peace, and love one another and all that other crap. That’s not necessary to be a good American, so I’m told.
I always do what I’m told- and that is most definitely important in order to be a good American.
Sorry guys, my plan was to leave my myspace all frothy and funny and happy. I held out for a while but y’all know I can’t resist a good political bitch.
Happy Easter! Yay eggs and bunnies! I wish someone would send me a huge box full of Peeps- just Peeps on top of Peeps on top of Peeps, and I wish that maybe the box sat outside in the sun ju-u-u-st long enough at some point in the journey to ever so slightly melt the colored sugar coating into a chewy crust, so that when I opened the Peeps-in-a-box I would be greeted with the universal smell of Easter- sun cooked processed sugar covered marshmallows in the anatomically incorrect cartoon character shapes of various harbingers of spring.
Crack open some Peeps for me kids. It’s like when rappers die, and they pour a forty over their graves. But I’m not dead, or a rapper, and I don’t drink, and you can’t pour Peeps, and now I’m grossed out thinking about dead people and Peeps. Great. Don’t bother sending that box now.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Sakura
Overnight whoever was in charge of keeping my little town locked in a prison of snow/cold induced isolation decided to set us free.
Like flipping a switch, it was suddenly Spring. Please do not misunderstand, it is nowhere near “warm”, more like “quite chilly with pleasant temperature experiences to be had when standing in the sun when the wind is not whistling past”. But I’ll take it. I’ll fucking take it kids.
Snow is awesome until it turns into the guest that will never leave, hanging out in your house all day, always eating the last ________ , telling the same jokes over and over, and generally being an ass. I am glad to have the honor of living in Japan during the worst winter in almost a hundred years, but I am more glad that it is over.
Spring didn’t waste any time, and as soon as there were a few days of relatively uninterrupted sunshine, the cherry blossoms suddenly came out. And I do mean suddenly. One day the river behind my house is lined on both sides by closely spaced miserable looking cold battered trees, and the next they are covered more in blossoms than they were in snow.
It is breathtaking.
That word gets thrown around a lot, but I do mean it. I gasped when I saw them. I actually blinked and opened my eyes wider, trying to take more of it in. The river stretches as far as you can see to the left and the right, and on both sides of it there is nothing but white and pink. The branches arch towards one another and bend towards the water. On a clear day the vision is spectacular, with the trees laden with blossoms, and then their reflections on both sides of the river in the water, and running between that a reflection of the bright blue cloudless sky.
Easter Sunday was cloudy, rainy and dreary, but the sun came out just long enough for I and my co-workers to have “hanami” (eating and drinking and talking under the cherry blossoms). The weather was perfect, the food was great, and I felt completely content. As I was sitting beside the river under a canopy of cherry blossoms, eating a bento with chopsticks that now feel more comfortable to my fingers than forks, listening to the smatterings of Japanese spoken around me that I can somehow understand bits and pieces of, and having easy, comfortable conversations with my co-workers I was awe struck. I have lived in Japan for almost 8 months now.
I have done, am doing, and will do things I never dreamed would happen even a year ago. It seemed such a quintessential Japanese experience, and more importantly, a memorable one that I never expected to have. It was a perfect way to spend Easter. I remembered hearing enthusiastic, almost reverential accolades about sakura (cherries, cherry blossoms, spring) with some trepidation. After all, I thought, they are just trees for crying out loud. They come out every year, they only stay for two weeks, they’re probably pretty, but are they worth all of this fuss?
I was proven so wrong. The sheer bliss with which everyone from stern business men to grandmothers to 13 year old boys to little children greets the cherry blossoms was contagious. I spent all day today wandering around the park, and the mood was so grateful. Just a communal sigh of relief that the winter was over, the air felt fresh and smelled delicious, and we all felt lucky just to see the sun and be able to enjoy the outdoors again, instead of rushing from one airless stuffy building to another.
When I first came to Toyama, I heard a taiko (Japanese drums) song called “Snow Country”. It was written as a testament to the strength of the people who lived through the region’s harsh winters. I understand that now we have heaters and hot water- although they helped very little, just for the record :). It was mainly an ode to their ancestors. But I do think that sense of gratitude has been carried on today. I am not certain what the vibe is in other more temperate parts of Japan but here in Toyama it is just joyful. Just plain happy to be out in the sun and viewing the trees, eating with your children and playing by the river.
I have had a surreal experience this past week. I am glad to have had the chance to be a part of such a long standing tradition. If I can ever learn how to post pictures from my digital camera, you can see for yourself, though no picture can adequately convey how overwhelming it all is. And maybe you had to have lived through four straight months of snow, wind, rain, biting cold, and an absent sun to truly appreciate it. Either way, I have about 200 pictures 🙂 Hopefully together they deliver the impact of it all.
I hope everyone had wonderful Easters, and I reverse my reversal of the Peeps request. I would prefer the blue bunnies and the purple chicks, however, I will accept other manifestations of those delicious, wonderfully synthetic sweets. See how calm sakura has made me? I’m pretty sure sitting under them has brought me close to Buddha like enlightenment, complete with pot belly and long floppy ear lobes. Both take some getting used to, but I suppose there are worse things to be dealt when one is receiving enlightenment.
One final note: I did not miss watching people engage in that gross practice of eating dyed Easter eggs that have been lounging in the sun in the grass in the backyard all morning. It’s just nasty guys. I’m enlightened, and I have really long earlobes. Trust me on this one.
Read Part V: Teaching English in Japan Part V: Conflicts, Politics, & Grief Overseas
