My New Job

No, I haven't quit being an English teacher.  Not yet, at least.  I'm probably sticking with the profession for the long haul.

What I do have, though, is a new job that starts in late March.  I will be moving from Koriyama, best known as the urban center of Fukushima prefecture and the place everyone fled to after the March earthquake, to Kofu, a smaller city from which I will be able to see Mt. Fuji.  Okay, so I have a romanticized, lopsided view of what this new job will involve.  I don't care; I'm excited to both leave my current job and start my new one.

There are a lot of reasons for this move.  Most of them are whiny and self-indulgent, such as frustrations with my boss, my living situation, and my job.  Yes, one of them is radiation (not my own fears, but my father's rather constant nagging).  However, I feel justified in making the change.  I came to Japan to be a teacher; I spend about 60% of my working hours as a glorified babysitter of two- to four-year-old students.  I don't know if my new job will be much better in terms of teaching, as I'll be functioning more as a tutor than a teacher, but at least I'll be working with all ages.  Taking a moment to whine, when applying for my current job, I was led to believe I'd be working with 2 to 16 year olds; my two oldest students are eight.  From what I can tell, female teachers simply don't get the older classes here.  Also, yes, there is one lone sixteen-year-old student who takes a private lesson once a week, but the official cut-off age for the school's main classes is 12.

And, perhaps most of all, I feel that if there's a moment in my career where I can afford to be self-indulgent, it's now.  English teachers are in demand here, because people do tend to come and stay for just a year or two, and I'm more than qualified for most positions (which isn't saying much).  I came to Japan to take a job that would be less demanding than working at a public school in the US, and to see if ESL teaching was a real long-term possibility for me.  I don't need the job I have now, and I'm frustrated with it in hundreds of small, different ways.  Yes, that will be true of any job I ever have.  It's a selfish and short-sighted view of life to have.

But for the moment, I don't care.

What's happening to me?

Or, more specifically, what is Japan doing to me?

Today, I willingly, without the coercion of any outside sources, purchased this.

Yes, that is what you think it is--a relic of the past that is now worn only by fashionable members of my generation in conjunction with costumes that involve fluorescent bike shorts, sideways ponytails, and other garish mixes of 80's and 90's fashion.

It's a scrunchy, an item which remains a basic, fundamental component of a young woman's collection of accessories in Japan despite its obsolescence in the US.  The scrunchy-saturation of Japan made me laugh when I first arrived.  Two months in, and I didn't even notice them.  Three months, and I wanted one.  Now we're almost at five months, and I finally gave in.

The fact that I feel the urge to defend this scrunchy and talk about how it's quite cute should be a sign of how far gone I am.

I repeat: what is Japan doing to me?

"Japanese is better."

I know, in my heart of hearts, that getting frustrated with young children is ridiculous and accomplishes nothing.  You cannot argue logic with a seven-year-old, or change their mind about something that they are convinced is right.  Or, at least, I can't.  Not often.  Memories of trying and failing to convince my little sister that the colors of the rainbow didn't end with "indigo and purple" rise to the surface at moments like these.

But, well, there are times when I just want to grab my students by the shoulders, shake them, and yell.  Not all of my students, mind you.  But there's one in particular--a seven-year-old boy who's incredibly bright, but also incredibly set in his ways.  He complains--daily--about having to learn English, because "Japanese is better."  He is uninterested in anything I have to say about any culture besides Japan, because--you guessed it--"Japanese is better."  He told me a few days ago that he would not be speaking English in class any more, because he did not need to learn English.  I asked him if he never wanted to travel, never wanted to go on vacation to another country or speak to a person who didn't know Japanese.  He said that he did not.

I'm not stupid or self-important enough to believe that, if this boy learns English, his world will open up and he will be able to communicate with everyone--that would be just as ridiculous as his assertion that "Japanese is better" than any other language.  And I don't believe that everyone should learn English, or that the world should cater to English-speakers.  I would be just as concerned if I was teaching any language to any student anywhere, and they said they didn't need to learn it because they were never going to need to use it and their own language was better, anyways.

I'm also not idiotic enough to not recognize this for what it (at least partially) is: a seven-year-old boy being stubborn.  More importantly, a smart seven-year-old boy who attempts to undermine me on a regular basis in class being stubborn and not wanting to put forth effort.  It is what it is.  And it wouldn't really concern me if it weren't for the fact that people who have lived in Japan for much longer than me, and who have become far more fully immersed in the culture than I have, have documented the Japan-centric-ness of Japan.  It's like being back with certain close-minded, Southern bigots I knew back in the States.  I hated unfounded bigotry and willful ignorance then, and I hate it now.  Especially when it comes to seven-year-olds who shouldn't already be exposed to the idea that there is nothing worth learning, nothing worth experiencing that doesn't come from his own culture.  Erm, then why am I in Japan?  Well, except to avoid the crummy job market in America, get away from family members telling me I need to get my doctorate, and avoid settling down into a permanent job, of course.

Granted, this is only one member of the class (well, two, considering there is another girl who agrees with his every word).  And his threats about not ever speaking English in class ever again were proven weak when I threatened to make him go sit downstairs with my boss and explain to her why he was down there.   Also, I have one female student who loves English, another who wants to go to Paris and London, and a boy who wants to travel all over the world.  "But I think not to Colombia.  Because in Colombia, there are many, um, I think, bad boys there.  My parents tell me so."

The Two Types of Sickness

I am currently in the midst of my first official, "real" illness since arriving in Japan.  Sure, I've had a couple days with headaches and other mild stuff, but on Sunday I was feeling pretty crummy, and woke up Monday with a horrendous cold that got me sent home from work.  And this morning, I woke up completely and utterly voice-less, a condition that has lasted throughout the day and threatens to remain the same way tomorrow.  I can't ever remember losing my voice this badly; at best, I can choke out an extremely forced word or two every four hours, but even those utterances are almost unintelligible.  I feel fine otherwise, but am (obviously) unable to teach, and will end up having to trade off a lot of days with other teachers.  Not having paid sick days is probably the worst thing about my job.

The cold and the lost voice have combined to give me the worst bout of homesickness I've had so far.  Now, in all honesty, any time that I get a high fever, I get super-emotional and will cry over nothing.  This last May, on the way back from an academic conference, I broke down sobbing in a car while riding with two classmates and a teacher (all of whom, thankfully, I knew very well) while stricken with the flu.  Over, quite literally, nothing.  My body does not respond well to fevers.  And not having a voice means that calling family members is an impossibility.

So I'm emotional, I can't talk to anyone, and I'm three months in to what is going to be at least a two-year stay in Japan.  I am past the point of just missing things, and to the point of longing to be back in America with friends, family, and familiarity (apologies for the unintentional alliteration).  I am already worried that when it's all said and done, they and I will have changed immeasurably, to the point that things can't be the same.  I will be back home for Christmas, but how much will things have been altered by then?  There are a thousand specific examples that I could use for this, but suffice to say, I am worried.  And I hate myself for worrying.  It's so selfish to think that people could not change, or fear that they will.  Maybe there's a better way to express what I'm feeling; I was always bad at putting that sort of thing into words.  But it's where I am right now, and I'm sure that I'll figure out a way to cope with it eventually.

Bugs in Boxes

I've had, well, not a zillion things to post about, but a fair few.  Yet somehow I always seem to get distracted by, erm, not-all-that-terribly-important things.  I am a bad blogger.

But today I got a package from my mom (thank you, Mom!), which meant that not only am I experiencing a large amount of glee at the moment, my students also got to enjoy some goodies.  I tell you what, the phrase "American candy" is bargaining gold with seven-year-old Japanese kids.  "Once you finish this worksheet, we're going to have our snack.  And my mom sent me some American candy, so..."  Cue dead silence, other than the scratching of pencils and the occasional "Ah! Mistake!" from one particularly handwriting-conscious second-grade girl.

The other big hit was, oddly enough, a three-dollar bag filled with plastic bugs and spiders of varying sizes and species, which provided much entertainment before class and during snack time.  I expected three of my six students to love them, and the other three not to care in the least, but a concentrated group effort was put into organizing them on the carpet.  At one point, the stuffed giraffe (also from my mom) did battle with a few of the creatures.  And, of course, the braver students chased the others around with the largest of the spiders.  In other words, great fun was had by all.

These are actually two good-looking kids in real life, I swear...

My dog is pimpin', and other life updates

So... It's been how long since I updated this thing?  Eesh.  I guess that with the end of summer school (working straight from 8:30-2:30 every weekday) and the return of regular school (working a split schedule from 8:30-12:00 and 2:30-6:30 almost every weekday), I'm back to just being lazy in my off time.

I still haven't had any great, revelatory insights into my life in Japan, which is probably a good thing, because I'm not sold on the idea of great, revelatory insights in the first place.  It seems a bit too easy.  I am still experiencing ups and downs, though I no longer dread walking to the supermarket, knowing that people will inevitably stare at me as they walk/bike/drive by.  I am working on my "101 in 1001" list, though I have yet to update it.  I am learning to cope with the communication issues that arise daily, but am also working to remedy them by studying more and more Japanese.  I am slowly but surely furnishing my apartment, having bought bright, happy new futon sheets last weekend.  I've even made some (gasp) friends, and am putting forth the effort to be social--which, if you've ever met me, you know is a bit difficult.

And as for the title of this post, well, I do teach lots of kids with, though often impressive, still limited English skills.  One day during summer school, one extremely precocious five-year-old brought her stuffed dog to class, and had it out during playtime.  When I asked what the dog's name was, I received the following in bright, happy reply: "My dog is pimpin'!"

It was a pretty big struggle to control myself.  After I inquired further, I decided that the dog's name was either "Pim-Pim" or "Pin-Pin," but no matter how many times I asked the student to repeat herself, including when I attempted to correct her pronunciation, she responded, "Yes, my dog is pimpin'."  It only became funnier as she got more and more frustrated with my repeated question, which in turn made her sound like she couldn't believe that I would question the pimpin' qualities of her dog.

And I guessed that, if pressed, I would say that I have had two semi-revelatory breakthroughs.  The first: seven- and eight-year-olds are remarkably easy to bribe with small items like stamps and stickers.  The second is that the bribery of seven- and eight-year-olds is not beneath me, and I am not ashamed of it.

101 Things in 1001 Days: The List

So, reading lots of blogs on the interwebs, you come across various ideas for posts and blogger-y things.  My sister does a "7 on the 7th" bit; some people do "Things I Love Thursdays," others do "Some Days are Tuesdays."  But my favorite type of these blogging activities is the "101 in 1001" lists, wherein you make a list of 101 things you would like to accomplish in the coming 1001 days.  Given my love of to-do lists (I make them on a daily basis, even if the day just involves routine activities), I had to give this a try.  So, below the cut is my list of 101 things that I need to accomplish in the coming two and a half years.  Some are huge; some are ridiculously tiny.  Some are time-intensive, others are not; a few of them require very little commitment, but most of them require some sort of ongoing effort.


We'll see how it goes.


I did start this list on July 11th, so some of the items have clearly already been completed (#96 - Buy a yukata--yeah, last post has pictures of me wearing it).  I'll get an update post for the last two months up tomorrow, just in case anyone's interested. :P

Festivals & Homesickness

Arriving in Japan in the summertime, I have been taking part in the obligatory, highly-expected "foreigner comes to Japan and participates in the local culture via summer festivals" bit.  And yes, that involved me dressing in a yukata (summer kimono), which is generally supposed to be one-size-fits-all.  Of course, when you are a foreigner with, shall we say, slightly different proportions than the average Japanese woman, this results in retail clerks helping you try on the yukata while making "hmm... mmm..." sounds before hesitantly saying "Chotto chiisai..." (It's a little small).  This, in turn, results to be going into stores and buying things without trying them on, because I know I can MAKE it fit if I really try.

Internet & Inawashiro

So, I believe that the most exciting news of the moment is that I now have internet at my apartment!  It took five weeks, but it's here now, and I am a much happier camper.  It also means that I can upload pictures, so I'll be doing some recaps of stuff that already happened.

Part One - Inawashiro Lake, July 16, 2011

My Apartment!

Sorry for the lack of updates, but I have indeed made it to Japan safe and sound.  I do not have internet access at my apartment yet, only at work, and don't have a ton of extra downtime there, either.  However, per my mother's request, I have at last made a video tour of my apartment for the masses.  There's also a few pictures of the views from the window; unfortunately, when I made the video, it was around 8:00 PM, so you couldn't have seen anything outside.

Pictures from France

Okay, if I'm using this blog to keep in touch with the family, now'd be a great time to add some pictures from the Paris vacation that Jessie and I took with Dad and Sandy, wouldn't it?  These are some of the "best of pictures" of myself, Jessie, and random Parisian things.  There is also a short photo essay, "Waiting," which is a short representation of the hour and a half that Jess and I spent waiting on a bench at Versailles for Dad & Sandy, who had claimed they were "walking to the pond and back. Don't move from the bench."

Things to do Before Departing, Take Two

As I plod through daily life, I realized that I need a real to-do list that is an actual representation of what I actually have to do, not a random list that I threw together in five minutes.  So here's the revised, longer, much more accurate list.


1. Send off CoE (Certificate of Eligibility) Documents - DONE 5/7/11
2. Get CoE/Apply for Visa - DONE 6/24/11
3. Finish final 2 papers for grad school - DONE 5/9/11
4. Finish grading students' papers & essays; post final grades - DONE 5/17/11
5. Go to K-zoo Medieval Conference - DONE 5/15/11
6. Go through books before moving & take cast-offs to Hastings -DONE 5/22/11
7. Sort through clothes & get rid of the ratty ones - DONE 6/27/11
8. Sort through everything while packing -DONE 5/22/11
9. Move back home - DONE 5/24/11
10. Survive Paris vacation w/Dad (Sister and Step-Mom will be there, too) - DONE 6/12/11
11. Buy plane ticket - DONE 5/17/11
12. Go through movies, etc. already in storage - abandoned 6/23/11
13. Rip tons of movies to external HD - abandoned 6/18/11
14. Buy new laptop -- DONE 6/19/11 (and it's going to be perfect)
15. Buy six new dresses for work -- DONE 5/29/11
16. Pack everything that's going to Japan in "take now" suitcases or "ship later" boxes - DONE 6/27/11
17. Close out old college savings fund - DONE 6/20/11
18. Fix financials with current US bank (get new credit & debit cards, add Mom to the account) -- DONE 6/27/11
19. Renew driver's license - whoops
20. Go to optometrist, get new glasses & contacts -- DONE 6/20/11
21. Go to dentist, get cavities (eek) filled -- DONE 6/13/11
22. Get hair cut, etc. -- DONE 6/1/11
23. Spend as much time with the family as humanly possible

Things to do Before Departing

My to-do list before I leave for Japan on June 28:

1. Finish graduate school (this is hardly one item, by the way)
2. Attend Medieval Conference in Kalamazoo
3. Paris vacation w/father, step-mom, and little sister
4. Move back to mother's house after graduation
5. Unpack everything to decide what to keep/sell/donate/trash
6. Rip movies to external hard drive
7. Reconfigure "I am a graduate student and I don't care" wardrobe into "I have a job" wardrobe
8. Repack my life into two suitcases
9. Buy plane ticket
10. Buy new laptop
11. Spend as much time as possible with the family
12. Get passport!

In other words, I have an immense amount of work to do in the next eight weeks.  I must admit, I'm more than a little worried about getting it all done, but people have done it before in less time, and I'm sure I can manage.  Doesn't mean I won't complain between here and there, though.

An Intro to Everything

Yes, this is "just another person-going-to-Japan" blog.  Does the world really need another one?  Probably not.  However, when preparing to move halfway around the world, one starts thinking about keeping in touch with family and friends, as well as sharing inane stories with random strangers on the internet.  So one (and by that, I mean me) has decided to start another blog.  I'll be keeping light track of my preparations for leaving for Japan, and hopefully start posting more once I actually get there.

Though currently living in the states, I have recently accepted a job teaching at a private kindergarten in Koriyama-shi, Fukushima--forty miles away from the nuclear power plant.  That's ten miles inside of the U.S.-advised evacuation zone.  Yes, it may seem unwise, but I've done my research.  I've discussed everything with family.  I continue to defend my choice to myself by repeating the same things over and over:

1. There have been no restrictions placed on Koriyama by the Japanese government.
2. The school has been tested by the government, and the radiation was at a low enough level that it would cause no long-term effects for the children, let alone for the giant gaijin teacher about to show up.
3. I've never been that much of an outdoorsy person, anyways.
4. I would rather be 40 miles away from the power plant with a strong school support system than be an Interac ALT, dumped into the wilderness 50 miles away from the power plant with no school support.
5. I am leaving in two months. If things take a turn for the worse, I can always just not go.

Item #4 is probably the most convincing one, for me.  I would not want to be fending more myself, so to speak, in a completely rural area.  Here, I will have a foreigner support system (four other foreign teachers); the owner of the school is living and teaching in the same building, so if things get truly dangerous, she'll be departing.  Also, my mother has told me that if things get bad, she can make a donation to the "radioactive daughter fund" and I can come back to the states and live at home for a bit.  Huzzah for family, no?