A number of weeks ago, I noticed a callus on the palm of my hand, below my pinky finger. I hadn't been doing a lot of undue exercise or hanging off of bars or cleaning my house, so I wondered what it was from. It was strange since it was only on my right hand, not on my left. Several weeks later, I was riding my bike home from work and I realized what caused it. It was from holding onto my bike's handlebars. The reason it was only on my right was because I hold the right handlebar differently, in order to hover over the front brake lever.
Such a tiny thing, why even bring it up? Because in this tiny piece of hardened skin, is my life in Japan. It is something that has developed over days, weeks, months of riding that bike: to school, to the station, to the supermarket. It only exists because I've spent the last 2 and half years here.
Last night, while I stopped at McDonald's (yes, I know, it's horrible) for a quick snack, the theme song of Rent was playing inside MegaMart. One verse goes, “525, 600 minutes- how do you measure, measure a year?” I thought about that, and thought of my callus.
Time: seconds, minutes, years, these are all abstract concepts. Terms that we apply to describe the passing of time. But isn't my callus more of a testament to the seasons than all the terminology we toss about? It represents a physical change in me, something that at least attests to the greater mental and emotional change wrought in myself after spending so long out of the states, away from home. Long enough that I've created another.
Part of my captivation with this callus is that I'm on the verge of going back to that previous home, yet again. It will be the fourth time I've returned, my third Christmas...in Seattle. I hesitated for a minute there because I wanted to say, my third Christmas abroad, but then I realized, Japan is the 'abroad' and that Seattle, America, is supposed to be my home. Is it any longer? I don't feel like it is. I'm excited to go, to see my family, my friends, but I view it as a place I'm going to for 'vacation', not a place that I live anymore.
Yesterday I chatted with my friend Ray on gmail and recommended a Japanese movie that I thought he might like. Pin showed it to me and joked that the title sounded more appropriate for a porno than an anime, “Byosoku go senchimetoru” or 5 Centimeters per Second. Rather, it refers to the speed at which cherry blossoms are said to fall. It is about one boy and his relationships, particularly his first love, and the distance that separates them.
The stories are rather sad, but what we both liked about them was again, something little. They would cut these shots of Japanese things into the scenes. Normal things, like the handles hanging from the roof of a train car, or slippers at a genkan. My favorite one was this shot of a washing machine. It was just completing a load, but it struck me how familiar it was, from its looks to its whirring noise and the beeps it made. So completely mundane. Yet, if I only lived in Seattle, I probably would have no clue what that shot was of, and then promptly dismissed it from my thoughts. Instead, it helped create a fuller, more real picture of these characters lives. Life in Japan. A life that I share more and more.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The good, the bad, and the children...
I've had several conversations with different boyfriends over the years about realism and idealism. These discussions have helped define and refine my own beliefs about people and their natures.
Bryce was a steadfast realist, which caused a lot of tension in our relationship. One thing that drew George to me, and I to him, was our shared idealism. Travis reminds me of Bryce, but he's pointed out a particular difference between them: He is a realist with strong idealist leanings. It's a good compromise. Pin and I are both idealists, but I think for different reasons. Pin has, what I believe, is an idealism rooted in nostalgia. He believes that we are born innocent and good, and that it's life's lessons that harden us, that screw us up. He points to children as models of what we should strive to be.
As Travis and I discussed an article I sent him about a new genetic test that can be used to determine which sport(s) your child might be best suited to, I found what lay at the heart of my idealism. It's my connectedness to other people. I don't think that I'm that different or special. I believe that, if I can come to think a certain way about something, I don't see what's stopping other people from coming to think the same way as well. Granted, things like education do come into play, but that can't eliminate a HUGE percentage of the population, like my realist friends seem to believe. They believe that it's preposterous to expect more from them; that people are actually intelligent.
I feel it's preposterous to think I'm the only one that thinks thus. Wouldn't more people think this way? It's not just limited to the way people think, however. It's the same with wanting to be a good person. Or being 'nice', as many of my friends have described me. They tell me that I'm so nice, and say it with such...surprise, that I find myself amazed at that. Have they really met so few nice people? And why would you choose to be otherwise, if given a choice? That's one thing I can't fathom. Yes, people make mistakes, and we don't always do the 'nice', the 'good' thing all the time. We're not perfect. But I believe that for the most part, people are good, that they WANT to be.
I disagree with Pin. I don't think that we are born good, I think that we can only be truly good when we have knowledge, both of good and bad. We are not innately good. We CHOOSE to be good. Life, and its lessons, do not confuse us. They teach us. We learn, we grow, and I believe, we become better people.
Bryce was a steadfast realist, which caused a lot of tension in our relationship. One thing that drew George to me, and I to him, was our shared idealism. Travis reminds me of Bryce, but he's pointed out a particular difference between them: He is a realist with strong idealist leanings. It's a good compromise. Pin and I are both idealists, but I think for different reasons. Pin has, what I believe, is an idealism rooted in nostalgia. He believes that we are born innocent and good, and that it's life's lessons that harden us, that screw us up. He points to children as models of what we should strive to be.
As Travis and I discussed an article I sent him about a new genetic test that can be used to determine which sport(s) your child might be best suited to, I found what lay at the heart of my idealism. It's my connectedness to other people. I don't think that I'm that different or special. I believe that, if I can come to think a certain way about something, I don't see what's stopping other people from coming to think the same way as well. Granted, things like education do come into play, but that can't eliminate a HUGE percentage of the population, like my realist friends seem to believe. They believe that it's preposterous to expect more from them; that people are actually intelligent.
I feel it's preposterous to think I'm the only one that thinks thus. Wouldn't more people think this way? It's not just limited to the way people think, however. It's the same with wanting to be a good person. Or being 'nice', as many of my friends have described me. They tell me that I'm so nice, and say it with such...surprise, that I find myself amazed at that. Have they really met so few nice people? And why would you choose to be otherwise, if given a choice? That's one thing I can't fathom. Yes, people make mistakes, and we don't always do the 'nice', the 'good' thing all the time. We're not perfect. But I believe that for the most part, people are good, that they WANT to be.
I disagree with Pin. I don't think that we are born good, I think that we can only be truly good when we have knowledge, both of good and bad. We are not innately good. We CHOOSE to be good. Life, and its lessons, do not confuse us. They teach us. We learn, we grow, and I believe, we become better people.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
My Make-Believe Roommate
So I have a friend named Pin, likely the only Pin I will ever meet or know in my life.
I met him about 2 years ago in Shimizu, while I was at the Docomo store with Albert trying to get my keitai (cell phone). For the first year and a half, our relationship mainly consisted of hanging out and seeing each other through various friends with whom we were closer. Prompted by his transferring to Fujinomiya to take over for another friend who was returning to the states, we began getting dinners together in Kambara, which was on his way home from school.
Since then, we have dinner together at least once a week, freely stay at one another's apartments, both with and without the other one present, and text one another on a near daily basis. It is a rare, and slightly unsettling, week when we don't see one another.
It has taken a while, but he's opened up to me a lot. Not necessarily about everything, but I don't expect that. I've long since realized that he is rather stoic, despite also being acutely sensitive. I'm used to laying things all out there, but I know that when he doesn't, it's not a reflection on me, just that he feels there are some things that need to be said, and others that don't.
We've half-joked about becoming roommates...Lately, as he's considering the possibility of staying in Japan for another year, he's taken to checking out 'perfect apartments' for us. Main requirements being: good location, big kitchen (since we both like to cook and EAT), bedrooms on opposite ends (so that we can 'bang for days without the other one knowing'), and enough space to entertain friends. He even texted me the other day about what a typical Sunday might consist of.
Gee, starting to sound like he's either my gay friend or my boyfriend. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he's neither. I guess it's enough that he's one of my adopted older brothers. Someone that I know I can count on to go out for a drink or to buy me one when I need it.
I met him about 2 years ago in Shimizu, while I was at the Docomo store with Albert trying to get my keitai (cell phone). For the first year and a half, our relationship mainly consisted of hanging out and seeing each other through various friends with whom we were closer. Prompted by his transferring to Fujinomiya to take over for another friend who was returning to the states, we began getting dinners together in Kambara, which was on his way home from school.
Since then, we have dinner together at least once a week, freely stay at one another's apartments, both with and without the other one present, and text one another on a near daily basis. It is a rare, and slightly unsettling, week when we don't see one another.
It has taken a while, but he's opened up to me a lot. Not necessarily about everything, but I don't expect that. I've long since realized that he is rather stoic, despite also being acutely sensitive. I'm used to laying things all out there, but I know that when he doesn't, it's not a reflection on me, just that he feels there are some things that need to be said, and others that don't.
We've half-joked about becoming roommates...Lately, as he's considering the possibility of staying in Japan for another year, he's taken to checking out 'perfect apartments' for us. Main requirements being: good location, big kitchen (since we both like to cook and EAT), bedrooms on opposite ends (so that we can 'bang for days without the other one knowing'), and enough space to entertain friends. He even texted me the other day about what a typical Sunday might consist of.
Gee, starting to sound like he's either my gay friend or my boyfriend. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he's neither. I guess it's enough that he's one of my adopted older brothers. Someone that I know I can count on to go out for a drink or to buy me one when I need it.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Seito
Yesterday, I meant to leave at 4:30 for the second day in a row, but ended up staying with students until 6 afterschool. And I have no regrets about having done so.
Monday, I headed up to the san-nensei hallway to see if some of my favorite 35HR girls were up there studying. Instead, I ran into two 35 boys and two 33 boys. The two were from the "boy's class" I had while they were second years, infamous for the one student that was basically sexually harassing me during classtime. Needless to say, I didn't necessarily have a good impression of any of the boys in that class. But they totally brought me around.
I don't know how it really began, I think I might've asked how the English proficiency test that they took on Sunday went, but from there we ended up talking about music, movies, famous people, languages, university and what they were going to study, and of course, boys and girls and boyfriends and girlfriends. It was then that I realized that I haven't been taking advantage of my unique position at the school as much as I used to. For those boys, I was an 'approachable' girl, because I wasn't Japanese so I'm not afraid or shy about hanging out with them. Plus, as an ALT, I'm not quite a full-fledged teacher, and am also younger than most of the other teachers, so they can relate to me better.
The one thing was that, after I suggested to one of the boys that he text me in French after he graduates, another one asked if we could "asobimashou" i. e. play together after they graduated. I agreed, and then one says, "Tequila!" followed by chimes of "Beer!" Ah, they are adolescent boys after all. At first I tried to point out that even if they were graduates, they were still 2 years younger than the legal limit, but I realized that that would've been hypocritical, so I trailed off with a "Well, as long as you're not in uniform..." Then, when we started packing up and heading home, they thanked me "for my time." I thought that was really sweet.
Yesterday kinda went the same way: I had to wait for the teachers to return to the teacher's room from a meeting that I didn't know was happening, to stand guard against the students having full access to said room. 5 o'clock hit, and I 'osaki-ni-shitsurei shimashita'-ed myself out of there. But, I got to the hallway linking the two buildings and heard the girls playing basketball in the gym to my left.
Bouyed by the great experience of connecting with the boys the previous day, I mounted the steps and walked over. The 6 girls playing swiveled their heads as one as I got to entrance, followed by greetings of welcome. I stepped in and for a while just watched them practice their shots. After a while, their coach came and they began various drills. I stayed to the side and chatted with two of the girls: one the manager and one a player who wasn't feeling well that day, punctuated by my eardrums getting nearly blown out by the signal going off every 6 minutes per drill. When they started shooting practice again, I decided to shoot some hoops too.
It's been a while. I think the last time I did so in a real gym was in high school, over 7 years ago. I'm a horrible shot. But, I didn't care. At some point during it, I started enjoying it. Shooting, dribbling, running after the ball after it rebounded off the backboard. The whole time, I thought about Pin and his love for this game, and I understood a bit. I'm certainly not going to play in a game anytime soon, but before I left, I asked them to teach me to how to shoot a ball.
I stayed til their practice was over, and after they stood in a circle, bowed and said thank you to their coach with an "arigatou gozaimashita" (something that I'm a bit familiar with, having to do so in tea ceremony club), they came over to me, stood in a circle and thanked me with the same Japanese formality. I felt a bit over-whelmed since I thought I was just being "jama" and in the way, interrupting their practice and all. But they thanked me for my time (just like the boys) in English, and invited me to come again.
How can you not love these kids?
Monday, I headed up to the san-nensei hallway to see if some of my favorite 35HR girls were up there studying. Instead, I ran into two 35 boys and two 33 boys. The two were from the "boy's class" I had while they were second years, infamous for the one student that was basically sexually harassing me during classtime. Needless to say, I didn't necessarily have a good impression of any of the boys in that class. But they totally brought me around.
I don't know how it really began, I think I might've asked how the English proficiency test that they took on Sunday went, but from there we ended up talking about music, movies, famous people, languages, university and what they were going to study, and of course, boys and girls and boyfriends and girlfriends. It was then that I realized that I haven't been taking advantage of my unique position at the school as much as I used to. For those boys, I was an 'approachable' girl, because I wasn't Japanese so I'm not afraid or shy about hanging out with them. Plus, as an ALT, I'm not quite a full-fledged teacher, and am also younger than most of the other teachers, so they can relate to me better.
The one thing was that, after I suggested to one of the boys that he text me in French after he graduates, another one asked if we could "asobimashou" i. e. play together after they graduated. I agreed, and then one says, "Tequila!" followed by chimes of "Beer!" Ah, they are adolescent boys after all. At first I tried to point out that even if they were graduates, they were still 2 years younger than the legal limit, but I realized that that would've been hypocritical, so I trailed off with a "Well, as long as you're not in uniform..." Then, when we started packing up and heading home, they thanked me "for my time." I thought that was really sweet.
Yesterday kinda went the same way: I had to wait for the teachers to return to the teacher's room from a meeting that I didn't know was happening, to stand guard against the students having full access to said room. 5 o'clock hit, and I 'osaki-ni-shitsurei shimashita'-ed myself out of there. But, I got to the hallway linking the two buildings and heard the girls playing basketball in the gym to my left.
Bouyed by the great experience of connecting with the boys the previous day, I mounted the steps and walked over. The 6 girls playing swiveled their heads as one as I got to entrance, followed by greetings of welcome. I stepped in and for a while just watched them practice their shots. After a while, their coach came and they began various drills. I stayed to the side and chatted with two of the girls: one the manager and one a player who wasn't feeling well that day, punctuated by my eardrums getting nearly blown out by the signal going off every 6 minutes per drill. When they started shooting practice again, I decided to shoot some hoops too.
It's been a while. I think the last time I did so in a real gym was in high school, over 7 years ago. I'm a horrible shot. But, I didn't care. At some point during it, I started enjoying it. Shooting, dribbling, running after the ball after it rebounded off the backboard. The whole time, I thought about Pin and his love for this game, and I understood a bit. I'm certainly not going to play in a game anytime soon, but before I left, I asked them to teach me to how to shoot a ball.
I stayed til their practice was over, and after they stood in a circle, bowed and said thank you to their coach with an "arigatou gozaimashita" (something that I'm a bit familiar with, having to do so in tea ceremony club), they came over to me, stood in a circle and thanked me with the same Japanese formality. I felt a bit over-whelmed since I thought I was just being "jama" and in the way, interrupting their practice and all. But they thanked me for my time (just like the boys) in English, and invited me to come again.
How can you not love these kids?
Life in a Fishbowl
Lately I've been spending a lot of time with the BOE crew and I'm starting to see some of the critiques of BOE ALTs for myself. Not that I don't love the friends that I've made, and being able to spend more time with a solid group of people. It's just that, because the group is so small, it is both insular and insulated from the majority of the JET community. All of the dramas and melodramas play out on a much smaller, more tense stage.
Sometimes, it's nice to get away; I take advantage of my position as a kencho JET and hang out with other ALT friends. But sometimes, even that's not enough, because I still end up with ALTs. That's when I appreciate having made Japanese friends early on and continuously while I've lived in Shizuoka.
It's nice to forget all the issues, and just have a good time with friends. You lose yourself in another language. Which is what I did last Friday: after dinner with some ALTs, I went off to karaoke with two of my Shimizu J-boy friends, up until first train.
Which led to another fun experience when, while at the train station, two of my students saw me with them on their way to school. How they could be going to school while the moon was still up on a Saturday morning, I don't understand, but we had a good laugh about it when they asked me about it in class this week.
Sometimes, it's nice to get away; I take advantage of my position as a kencho JET and hang out with other ALT friends. But sometimes, even that's not enough, because I still end up with ALTs. That's when I appreciate having made Japanese friends early on and continuously while I've lived in Shizuoka.
It's nice to forget all the issues, and just have a good time with friends. You lose yourself in another language. Which is what I did last Friday: after dinner with some ALTs, I went off to karaoke with two of my Shimizu J-boy friends, up until first train.
Which led to another fun experience when, while at the train station, two of my students saw me with them on their way to school. How they could be going to school while the moon was still up on a Saturday morning, I don't understand, but we had a good laugh about it when they asked me about it in class this week.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Robo-vision
Yuna and I met in Shizuoka for lunch yesterday. It's a bit strange to have a strong online relationship with someone despite having several mutual friends, so we both welcomed the opportunity to get to know one another better.
Yuna is an interesting individual, and unlike many of the Japanese friends I've made. Maybe it's her age and being married, though maybe it also has something to do with the situation with her mom. She gives me the impression that she's had to defend herself from other peoples' scrutiny: about her decision to take care of her and about giving up her plans to go abroad. She's like red wine: sharp, deep, mysterious. She doesn't yield things up to novices easily. You have to know how to read her to fully appreciate her.
After lunch we walked back toward Shizuoka station and she proceeded to take pictures of me. I remember vividly the look in her eyes as we walked around the station. Her focus was visible on her face. I told her I wanted to be able to go into her head and see through her eyes. As an artist, as someone accustomed to sizing up a situation, she must look at the world in a completely different way than other people. I think it looks something like how robots see, like Terminator or Robocop: all geometric shapes laid over the real world, ratios, measurements. And yet, also an appraisal of beauty.
Only in the last couple of years have I picked up a thing or two about photography and composition and design. This ability to make the world look a certain way is fascinating and empowering. It's about control. Yet I shy away a bit. I guess that's my natural inclination to be the power behind the throne, never actually sitting in it.
I think she's drawn to it.
I think I like that about her.
Yuna is an interesting individual, and unlike many of the Japanese friends I've made. Maybe it's her age and being married, though maybe it also has something to do with the situation with her mom. She gives me the impression that she's had to defend herself from other peoples' scrutiny: about her decision to take care of her and about giving up her plans to go abroad. She's like red wine: sharp, deep, mysterious. She doesn't yield things up to novices easily. You have to know how to read her to fully appreciate her.
After lunch we walked back toward Shizuoka station and she proceeded to take pictures of me. I remember vividly the look in her eyes as we walked around the station. Her focus was visible on her face. I told her I wanted to be able to go into her head and see through her eyes. As an artist, as someone accustomed to sizing up a situation, she must look at the world in a completely different way than other people. I think it looks something like how robots see, like Terminator or Robocop: all geometric shapes laid over the real world, ratios, measurements. And yet, also an appraisal of beauty.
Only in the last couple of years have I picked up a thing or two about photography and composition and design. This ability to make the world look a certain way is fascinating and empowering. It's about control. Yet I shy away a bit. I guess that's my natural inclination to be the power behind the throne, never actually sitting in it.
I think she's drawn to it.
I think I like that about her.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Natsukashii: Retroactive Post
I've forgotten what leaving school at 2:15 feels like. It's been years since I've had a dismissal at such a time: college classes and work usually begin on the hour or the half, and even when I take time off, it's usually right after lunch, not for just a couple of hours. Today, I didn't really have a choice. I had to use up my hours of daikyu from summer business trips.
Maybe some of that high school exuberance filtered through to me. Maybe it was reading Pin and Bob's blogs all day that reminded me of how much I love people who love food. Especially ones that share my Asian-American immigrant experience. I point that out because I feel like our cultural past is so much more present, so much more tangible in our food memories. Maybe I'm making that out to be more than it is. For now, I'm making the most of these extra daylight hours.
Maybe some of that high school exuberance filtered through to me. Maybe it was reading Pin and Bob's blogs all day that reminded me of how much I love people who love food. Especially ones that share my Asian-American immigrant experience. I point that out because I feel like our cultural past is so much more present, so much more tangible in our food memories. Maybe I'm making that out to be more than it is. For now, I'm making the most of these extra daylight hours.
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