Friday, September 22, 2006
The Lesson That Only Beer Can Teach Us
Greetings, dear readers.
Tonight I attended something I have been anticipating for a long time with a mixture of excitement and dread: the enkai. Essentially, it is an office party. But it's more than that.
The "enkai" is a party especially for the employees of the school. It was held in a sort of mini-resort up in the hills of Ena, the neighboring city. Many of us rode a bus over there together after school on Friday. Sitting there on the bus, I was quite nervous because I was dreading what was sure to come--the nudity. The venue for the enkai doubled as an 'onsen,' or a Japanese bath house/sauna. Before the big dinner, we would all go to the bath together.
They say that in Japan nudity is seen but not noticed, but I was still nervous as hell. I didn't mind people seeing my stuff, but these were people I worked with every day, many of whom I had never even talked to. I would have preferred it to be people I would never see again. No one else seemed particularly nervous, though, so I figured it couldn't possibly be as weird and homo-erotic as I was picturing it to be.
Once we showed up, we checked in then went downstairs to pick up our 2 towels. A bigger one for drying off, and a smaller, "privacy" towel for, well, privacy. I picked my favorite locker and after inspecting the nudity rapidly developing around me, went for the full Monty. As my pants were coming off, the principal of the school appeared next to me, naked. I sure know how to pick the good spots (you will remember that I am irrationally nervous around him with my clothes on, let alone with one or more of us in the nude).
As I walked into the bathing area, the kindly English teacher, Mr. Isomura, who sits next to me excitedly waved for me to come sit down. Somehow, seeing the enthusiasm on his face really lightened the mood. I wasn't really nervous after that. Besides, every single person was naked. How self-conscious could I really be? First, you wash yourself in a sort of sit-down, private shower. Then you pick a hot pool and go for a dip. They had about six to choose from, some with rocks, some outside in the cool air, some with nice jets. It was pretty sweet, actually. I felt my muscles begin to loosen up quite a bit, even if I was a little self-conscious.
After sampling most of the pools, I made the sudden realization that I was virtually alone. Where did all the people go? Dang it! I figured people would sit around and really savor the heat, but apparently that's not the case. The other teacher and I made our way upstairs into the eating area, pretty much the last people to show up. Dang. That's embarassing.
I picked a random seat number and ended up not one seat away from the principal. Dang. The gods must really want me to make friends with this guy. After we were all seated, a teacher gave a short introduction, and then the principal stood up to give a speech. He mentioned a breadth of topics, none of which I understood except for "Jay Taylor." I tried to smile at him to acknowledge that I was grateful to hear my name in a speech, but of course I just sort of awkwardly half-bowed. I've never been good with being the center of attention.
After that, my supervisor, Mr. Taniguchi, gave the official "kanpai," or toast. This is a big occasion. No one, and I mean no one, must take a sip before this is completed. He also talked about many things, and again my name was mentioned, and many people looked at me and smiled/giggled, and finally, we all said our "kanpai" and the evening began. Even though I couldn't understand it, something about the cadence of his voice and the expression on his face told me it was an inspiring speech.
The actual dinner was ridiculously fun, for some reason. There was much pouring of each others' beers and plenty of drinking, plus some pretty awesome Japanese food. I had delicious pork cooked in tofu milk, plus tons of sashimi, udon, tempura, and really good dessert. The most amazing part of the evening was seeing the people at the school loosen up. They were insanely friendly and interesting. I was blown away by how much English some of them knew. I just assumed that almost no one in Japan could really speak much English, but I was proven wrong. A lot of people knew a surprising amount of words. People made their way around the room, stopping to fill your beer and talk for a while. It was great. I was surprised how much Japanese I had learned. I managed to hold my own in Japanese conversations, and with the combination of their English skills, we managed to have some pretty great conversations. I had fun conversations with people I had never really spoken a word to before. Even the principal proved quite friendly, several times coming over to show me the correct way to eat the food (I was completely neglecting all the delicious sauces they had provided), and also filling up my beer glass. Man, if I took more than a sip from that glass, he filled it right back up. I really was very touched by that. I felt special.
At school, people are much more polite and proper, and so they don't let their inner personalities show as much. I do the same thing. That's the great thing about these enkais. They provide a safe environment for people to be themselves for one evening. I think this is a good group of people, and I certainly can't wait for the next one...I made plans with two of the teachers to go skiing in the winter. I hope they remember.
Oh, I almost forgot the best part! After it was over, we all formed a circle with our arms on each others' shoulders and sang the school song. We swayed left and right and sang and sang, and of course I didn't know the words. When the song finished, somebody said something, and they all excitedly looked at me. Everyone all of a sudden crowded together and lifted me up into the air many times. I've never had that happen before. I felt like I was floating. Needless to say, I felt like a king for a day. What a great feeling.
Tonight I attended something I have been anticipating for a long time with a mixture of excitement and dread: the enkai. Essentially, it is an office party. But it's more than that.
The "enkai" is a party especially for the employees of the school. It was held in a sort of mini-resort up in the hills of Ena, the neighboring city. Many of us rode a bus over there together after school on Friday. Sitting there on the bus, I was quite nervous because I was dreading what was sure to come--the nudity. The venue for the enkai doubled as an 'onsen,' or a Japanese bath house/sauna. Before the big dinner, we would all go to the bath together.
They say that in Japan nudity is seen but not noticed, but I was still nervous as hell. I didn't mind people seeing my stuff, but these were people I worked with every day, many of whom I had never even talked to. I would have preferred it to be people I would never see again. No one else seemed particularly nervous, though, so I figured it couldn't possibly be as weird and homo-erotic as I was picturing it to be.
Once we showed up, we checked in then went downstairs to pick up our 2 towels. A bigger one for drying off, and a smaller, "privacy" towel for, well, privacy. I picked my favorite locker and after inspecting the nudity rapidly developing around me, went for the full Monty. As my pants were coming off, the principal of the school appeared next to me, naked. I sure know how to pick the good spots (you will remember that I am irrationally nervous around him with my clothes on, let alone with one or more of us in the nude).
As I walked into the bathing area, the kindly English teacher, Mr. Isomura, who sits next to me excitedly waved for me to come sit down. Somehow, seeing the enthusiasm on his face really lightened the mood. I wasn't really nervous after that. Besides, every single person was naked. How self-conscious could I really be? First, you wash yourself in a sort of sit-down, private shower. Then you pick a hot pool and go for a dip. They had about six to choose from, some with rocks, some outside in the cool air, some with nice jets. It was pretty sweet, actually. I felt my muscles begin to loosen up quite a bit, even if I was a little self-conscious.
After sampling most of the pools, I made the sudden realization that I was virtually alone. Where did all the people go? Dang it! I figured people would sit around and really savor the heat, but apparently that's not the case. The other teacher and I made our way upstairs into the eating area, pretty much the last people to show up. Dang. That's embarassing.
I picked a random seat number and ended up not one seat away from the principal. Dang. The gods must really want me to make friends with this guy. After we were all seated, a teacher gave a short introduction, and then the principal stood up to give a speech. He mentioned a breadth of topics, none of which I understood except for "Jay Taylor." I tried to smile at him to acknowledge that I was grateful to hear my name in a speech, but of course I just sort of awkwardly half-bowed. I've never been good with being the center of attention.
After that, my supervisor, Mr. Taniguchi, gave the official "kanpai," or toast. This is a big occasion. No one, and I mean no one, must take a sip before this is completed. He also talked about many things, and again my name was mentioned, and many people looked at me and smiled/giggled, and finally, we all said our "kanpai" and the evening began. Even though I couldn't understand it, something about the cadence of his voice and the expression on his face told me it was an inspiring speech.
The actual dinner was ridiculously fun, for some reason. There was much pouring of each others' beers and plenty of drinking, plus some pretty awesome Japanese food. I had delicious pork cooked in tofu milk, plus tons of sashimi, udon, tempura, and really good dessert. The most amazing part of the evening was seeing the people at the school loosen up. They were insanely friendly and interesting. I was blown away by how much English some of them knew. I just assumed that almost no one in Japan could really speak much English, but I was proven wrong. A lot of people knew a surprising amount of words. People made their way around the room, stopping to fill your beer and talk for a while. It was great. I was surprised how much Japanese I had learned. I managed to hold my own in Japanese conversations, and with the combination of their English skills, we managed to have some pretty great conversations. I had fun conversations with people I had never really spoken a word to before. Even the principal proved quite friendly, several times coming over to show me the correct way to eat the food (I was completely neglecting all the delicious sauces they had provided), and also filling up my beer glass. Man, if I took more than a sip from that glass, he filled it right back up. I really was very touched by that. I felt special.
At school, people are much more polite and proper, and so they don't let their inner personalities show as much. I do the same thing. That's the great thing about these enkais. They provide a safe environment for people to be themselves for one evening. I think this is a good group of people, and I certainly can't wait for the next one...I made plans with two of the teachers to go skiing in the winter. I hope they remember.
Oh, I almost forgot the best part! After it was over, we all formed a circle with our arms on each others' shoulders and sang the school song. We swayed left and right and sang and sang, and of course I didn't know the words. When the song finished, somebody said something, and they all excitedly looked at me. Everyone all of a sudden crowded together and lifted me up into the air many times. I've never had that happen before. I felt like I was floating. Needless to say, I felt like a king for a day. What a great feeling.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Swimming in goodness
It has been raining literally without stop here for at least the last 36 hours. In fact, it's all starting to blur together...I can't even remember when it started! Oye!
Today I went swimming with the school's swimming team. Foolishly, I asked everyone I could find whether or not the swim team practiced in the rain. The answer--a lot of strange stares and "Yes" answers. Hmmm. I guess the rain would have little effect on swimmers, now wouldn't it?
The coach is an extremely cool individual named Mr. Itoi. He is quite possibly the most athletic-looking person I've ever met. He competed for Japan in the Olympics in swimming a few years ago, and now he is a teacher at the school. After my first couple laps, he came over and complimented my swimming style, even saying that--gasp!--it reminded him of Michael Phelps, the American swimming phenom. Naturally, that felt pretty good.
After that, however, was 150 meters of pure kicking. My feet and legs must have been defective, because even the girls were outpacing me 2-to-1. I looked like a limp dog swimming upstream with its paws tied together. It was embarassing. After that, I just decided to hang out in the unused side and just 'do my own thing' while the real athletes honed their swimming prowess. But hey! No shower required tonight!
Also, in a completely unrelated note, a couple days ago I had possibly my most satisfying linguistic moment thus far. At 10:30pm, I got a hankering for a MOS Burger (the local hamburger chain...pretty good actually), and knew that I had to have one. I managed to successfully navigate through the Japanese website, type in my city's name in Chinese characters to find the hours of operation, as well as locate a diagram of the hamburger I wanted, complete with ingredient list. From there, I translated the ingredients, taking note of which ones I did NOT want (still quite picky when it comes to my burgers). I biked down to MOS Burger, ordered with quasi-proficiency, and enjoyed a hamburger just the way I wanted it. I was even able to answer when she asked me if I wanted it for here or to go--a question that has stumbled me many times.
It was sublime.
For your reference, here is a photo of the delicious MOS Burger (literally "Mountain, Ocean, Sun"). It's a little pricey, and a little small, but man is it good.
Today I went swimming with the school's swimming team. Foolishly, I asked everyone I could find whether or not the swim team practiced in the rain. The answer--a lot of strange stares and "Yes" answers. Hmmm. I guess the rain would have little effect on swimmers, now wouldn't it?
The coach is an extremely cool individual named Mr. Itoi. He is quite possibly the most athletic-looking person I've ever met. He competed for Japan in the Olympics in swimming a few years ago, and now he is a teacher at the school. After my first couple laps, he came over and complimented my swimming style, even saying that--gasp!--it reminded him of Michael Phelps, the American swimming phenom. Naturally, that felt pretty good.
After that, however, was 150 meters of pure kicking. My feet and legs must have been defective, because even the girls were outpacing me 2-to-1. I looked like a limp dog swimming upstream with its paws tied together. It was embarassing. After that, I just decided to hang out in the unused side and just 'do my own thing' while the real athletes honed their swimming prowess. But hey! No shower required tonight!
Also, in a completely unrelated note, a couple days ago I had possibly my most satisfying linguistic moment thus far. At 10:30pm, I got a hankering for a MOS Burger (the local hamburger chain...pretty good actually), and knew that I had to have one. I managed to successfully navigate through the Japanese website, type in my city's name in Chinese characters to find the hours of operation, as well as locate a diagram of the hamburger I wanted, complete with ingredient list. From there, I translated the ingredients, taking note of which ones I did NOT want (still quite picky when it comes to my burgers). I biked down to MOS Burger, ordered with quasi-proficiency, and enjoyed a hamburger just the way I wanted it. I was even able to answer when she asked me if I wanted it for here or to go--a question that has stumbled me many times.
It was sublime.
For your reference, here is a photo of the delicious MOS Burger (literally "Mountain, Ocean, Sun"). It's a little pricey, and a little small, but man is it good.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
My Pad
I've posted some photos of my apartment here in Japan, in case any of you are curious just what one might look like. Enjoy!
This is my apartment building. It is teacher's housing, so most of the people who live here work at my school. It's big and concrete, but there are many families with kids, so it seems kind of homey.
This is my front door. I think the blue is very cheerful.
This is my entranceway. I leave my shoes here and walk around barefoot in the rest of the apartment. Interestingly, this recessed area is technically public property and if you leave the door unlocked, people are allowed to enter. Who knew?
This is my kitchen. I haven't yet mastered the garbage collection system yet, so it's sort of a "walk-in trashcan" at the moment. Nevertheless, it's very large, has a lot of cool dishes, and has tons of shelving for plates and spicy condiments. Everything is gas, from hot water to the stove.
This is my extra bedroom. These units were designed to hold families, but since I am decidedly without family here, I keep it closed off as the "East Wing"
Here is my living room. This is where I spend most of my time. It's a pretty comfortable place to sit. I rearranged it a little bit, so I'm fairly proud of myself.
This is my bedroom. I like it because it's nice and simple. I sleep directly on the floor on a futon. The floor is covered in soft "tatami" mats and so the whole effect is actually very comfortable.
Here is my bathtub and shower. I take showers here sometimes standing up, sometimes sitting down, depending on my mood. Haven't yet tried taking a bath; perhaps in the winter.
This is my laundry facility. To rinse dry the clothes, I use the spinner, which operates at extraordinarily high RPM and sounds not unlike a jet engine.
This is my trusty steed. I use this to get to work every day. It belongs to someone who works at the school, so I really need to get my own and soon. I've come to like it though.
This is the view from the stairwell looking east towards the main part of the city. I feel like I'm sort of on the outskirts, but it's hard to tell sometimes.
This is my apartment building. It is teacher's housing, so most of the people who live here work at my school. It's big and concrete, but there are many families with kids, so it seems kind of homey.
This is my front door. I think the blue is very cheerful.
This is my entranceway. I leave my shoes here and walk around barefoot in the rest of the apartment. Interestingly, this recessed area is technically public property and if you leave the door unlocked, people are allowed to enter. Who knew?
This is my kitchen. I haven't yet mastered the garbage collection system yet, so it's sort of a "walk-in trashcan" at the moment. Nevertheless, it's very large, has a lot of cool dishes, and has tons of shelving for plates and spicy condiments. Everything is gas, from hot water to the stove.
This is my extra bedroom. These units were designed to hold families, but since I am decidedly without family here, I keep it closed off as the "East Wing"
Here is my living room. This is where I spend most of my time. It's a pretty comfortable place to sit. I rearranged it a little bit, so I'm fairly proud of myself.
This is my bedroom. I like it because it's nice and simple. I sleep directly on the floor on a futon. The floor is covered in soft "tatami" mats and so the whole effect is actually very comfortable.
Here is my bathtub and shower. I take showers here sometimes standing up, sometimes sitting down, depending on my mood. Haven't yet tried taking a bath; perhaps in the winter.
This is my laundry facility. To rinse dry the clothes, I use the spinner, which operates at extraordinarily high RPM and sounds not unlike a jet engine.
This is my trusty steed. I use this to get to work every day. It belongs to someone who works at the school, so I really need to get my own and soon. I've come to like it though.
This is the view from the stairwell looking east towards the main part of the city. I feel like I'm sort of on the outskirts, but it's hard to tell sometimes.
Friday, September 08, 2006
The gift that keeps on giving
I couldn't even begin to count all the hilarious situations resulting from the fact that I do not speak Japanese. It makes even the most simple tasks and social situations surprisingly difficult and awkward. Riding the bus, saying goodbye after work, thanking somebody in the proper manner--these are not easy.
Take gift-giving, for example. It is customary when you return from a trip to give little gifts, or o-miyage, to everyone at your work place. In my case, since I was coming from somewhere else to start, it also would have been a good idea. Now, gift-giving is not really my forte, so I didn't actually have my whole arsenal of gifts ready until basically last week. I reviewed the procedure and terms used to present the gift, spent hours laboring over small notes written in Japanese characters, and finally gathered the courage to present gift #1 to the vice principal. I walked up to him, said "Sumimasen" (excuse me) and feebly offered him his present, a large National Geographic photo book. He was so confused there just aren't words. It was great. Since I don't know Japanese, I couldn't really explain what it was or why I was giving him a gift in early September. Luckily, he's quite friendly and gave me many smiles and thank-yous. Mission accomplished.
I next gave a bottle of whisky and a small photo book to my boss, who speaks perfect English. This one went off wonderfully, except for a hilarious faus paux on my part a few days later. I was reviewing my receipts of recent purchases when I came across one for a sizable amount from a store I didn't recognize. I was baffled. Where could I have spent all this money, and not even be able to remember it? I usually bring in unfamiliar documents to my boss for explanation, so I did the same with this. He took one look at the receipt, and very calmly said "This character means "Whisky." Ahh! That's your present! I literally snatched the receipt out of his hand. Somehow I doubt it's Japanese custom to let the gift recepient know exactly how much their gift cost and where/when you bought it.
Ah well, I already think it's funny.
Lastly I gave the principal a nice bottle of tequila from Mexico. I didn't give it to him directly, but he did come to my desk and thank me afterward. Now, for some reason, I'm terrified of the principal. Everyone claims he's friendly and laid-back, but he scares the shit out of me. I always feel extra awkward around him, and usually make my biggest blunders. When thanking him, I used the pre-approved thank-you words, and thought I did it right. He had a short conversation with the other English teachers which seemed to be about me, and he was smiling, so it seemed all good. Then when he left the other teacher told me "Principal is very concerned for your knowledge of formal Japanese." Huh? He made it seem like a trifle, but I was confused. I thought I had conducted myself with perfect dignity and respect, but you really have to go one level beyond when dealing with higher-ups. I probably should have gotten out of my chair and bowed, instead of remaining sitting down. Who knows? I hope he enjoys that dang tequila. Maybe he'll share some with me and we can bond.
Take gift-giving, for example. It is customary when you return from a trip to give little gifts, or o-miyage, to everyone at your work place. In my case, since I was coming from somewhere else to start, it also would have been a good idea. Now, gift-giving is not really my forte, so I didn't actually have my whole arsenal of gifts ready until basically last week. I reviewed the procedure and terms used to present the gift, spent hours laboring over small notes written in Japanese characters, and finally gathered the courage to present gift #1 to the vice principal. I walked up to him, said "Sumimasen" (excuse me) and feebly offered him his present, a large National Geographic photo book. He was so confused there just aren't words. It was great. Since I don't know Japanese, I couldn't really explain what it was or why I was giving him a gift in early September. Luckily, he's quite friendly and gave me many smiles and thank-yous. Mission accomplished.
I next gave a bottle of whisky and a small photo book to my boss, who speaks perfect English. This one went off wonderfully, except for a hilarious faus paux on my part a few days later. I was reviewing my receipts of recent purchases when I came across one for a sizable amount from a store I didn't recognize. I was baffled. Where could I have spent all this money, and not even be able to remember it? I usually bring in unfamiliar documents to my boss for explanation, so I did the same with this. He took one look at the receipt, and very calmly said "This character means "Whisky." Ahh! That's your present! I literally snatched the receipt out of his hand. Somehow I doubt it's Japanese custom to let the gift recepient know exactly how much their gift cost and where/when you bought it.
Ah well, I already think it's funny.
Lastly I gave the principal a nice bottle of tequila from Mexico. I didn't give it to him directly, but he did come to my desk and thank me afterward. Now, for some reason, I'm terrified of the principal. Everyone claims he's friendly and laid-back, but he scares the shit out of me. I always feel extra awkward around him, and usually make my biggest blunders. When thanking him, I used the pre-approved thank-you words, and thought I did it right. He had a short conversation with the other English teachers which seemed to be about me, and he was smiling, so it seemed all good. Then when he left the other teacher told me "Principal is very concerned for your knowledge of formal Japanese." Huh? He made it seem like a trifle, but I was confused. I thought I had conducted myself with perfect dignity and respect, but you really have to go one level beyond when dealing with higher-ups. I probably should have gotten out of my chair and bowed, instead of remaining sitting down. Who knows? I hope he enjoys that dang tequila. Maybe he'll share some with me and we can bond.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Peaceful walk through a nice place
This weekend was verrrrrrrry quiet. After several successive weekends of traveling, socializing, attending seminars, drinking, riding buses, and getting home late sunday nights, Hong and I decided to take it easy. She took the train out to visit me, and we spent literally all day Saturday inside the house, watching the collection of videos left here by the great English teachers of the past.On Sunday we ventured outside for a 3-hour walk. It was great. There is a beautiful cluster of houses and rice fields right outside my window which I admire daily, but for some reason I never explored it. My curiosity got the better of me, and Hong and I walked through the most charming, traditional-looking places for hours, literally right out my back door.
The Nakasendo that I have mentioned previously indeed goes right by my house, and we followed it for quite a while, at first without realizing it. That's the great part about it. It just turns up where you least expect it. I had been looking at this view (↑) every day for a month before I realized that this was the ancient road from Kyoto to Tokyo. To me, it just looked like the back of an auto repair shop, but I guess my sense of history was not properly attuned.
The Nakasendo that I have mentioned previously indeed goes right by my house, and we followed it for quite a while, at first without realizing it. That's the great part about it. It just turns up where you least expect it. I had been looking at this view (↑) every day for a month before I realized that this was the ancient road from Kyoto to Tokyo. To me, it just looked like the back of an auto repair shop, but I guess my sense of history was not properly attuned.
Out in the fields, the roads were very small, and there were small water channels on either side. The houses were low, squat, and wooden, and there were beautiful green rice fields pretty much as far as the eye could see. The fields here take my breath away. They are so neat and tidy. There were hardly any people around, which I
liked. I suppose isn't surprising given the heat, but it felt like we were the only people in the whole area. It was kind of nice. When we would run into someone else, it was kind of startling, having your fantasy jolted back to reality. The people seemed highly surprised to see us walking around.I really let my imagination run wild, and I felt like I was in a different time, even a different world. It felt so foreign and so not of this time. The whole thing was a "pinch me, I'm in Japan" moment. Sometimes it's easy to forget where you are.
I sometimes cannot believe how ancient this place is. Or any place, really. On the land that we use every day and build our houses, schools, shopping centers, and interstates on, humans have been living for thousands of years. In California, our modern house sits on land that was wilderness 20 years ago. Did Native Americans hunt in our backyard? When was the last time the extinct volcano nearby erupted? Here in my little corner of Japan, I wonder if this place has always looked like this. These houses look so old, but I know they cannot be more than 100 years old at the most. But they are sitting on an ancient route, and look very much like it must have 100 or 200 or 300 years ago (except for the shiny Toyotas and Mitsubishis). Some are brand new. And right next to these fields is a large, four-lane road with Toyota dealerships, ATMS, and restaurants. I'm sure that that road probably follows an older route. Who knows how long people have been traveling this way? So cool.
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