One of my favorites places to go in Kumamoto City is the Traditional Crafts Center. Just across the street from the Castle, the TCC has all kinds of locally made crafts for sale: hand-painted fans, ceramics, jewelry, glassware, leather goods. You name it, you can find it at the TCC. You can also observe classes in calligraphy, pottery, etc. It’s really great fun.
This past Sunday, the rain slowed to an intermittent drizzle, so I hopped the bus downtown and visited the Crafts Center to see what new treasures they had. On weekends especially, many local vendors come to display their wares, and on this particular weekend, a big exhibition of glassware was showcased. Vases, dishes, and jewelry of all colors of glass were displayed. If only I were wealthy… I’m not, however, so I must make do with simply enjoying the riches from afar and trying to express my admiration to the craftsmen and women.
The next day as I was driving to work, I couldn’t help but recall the beautiful works of glassware I had seen. I drive through and past a lot of farmland on my way to this particular school and as the rain had stopped and the sun was shining, I had a perfect view of the fields. At first, I thought all of the rain we’ve been having had flooded the land. On both sides of the road, water shimmered in the sun. I felt a bit like Moses. Quickly, I realized that the ‘flooded’ fields were perfectly contained and shaped. They were rice paddies recently planted and, like the glass I saw at the TCC, they danced in the sunlight. The water in some of the fields (the newest planted ones, I think) was almost crystal clear and acted a bit like mirrors. Some of the fields were covered in water tinted brown from the soil, though still slightly translucent, glowing warmly in the sun. My favorites were the fields where rice had already begun to spring up through the water. The water reflected the flora giving the entire field a look of lucent green glass dappled with darker green. My words can’t do it justice. For a few hours, the countryside of Japan was glorious. Then it started to rain again.
I realize I never really talked about the singers that performed at Shisui-higashi Shogakku a couple weeks ago. I almost feel like it’s too late now, but I did promise so… I have no idea if these women are actually professional performers or simply two local women making a good try at being professional singers. As I mentioned previously, they reminded me of Marty Culp and Bobby Moughan – Culp (Saturday Night Live skit with Will Farrell and Ana Gasteyer.) Their voices were technically very good, but it just all seemed way too practiced and perfect. Their voices, hand movements and even facial expressions were perfectly in unison - even when talking between the songs. I kept wanting to giggle.
The songs they sung were well known children’s’ songs, I assume, as the kids seemed to be familiar with all of them. I, of course, couldn’t understand any of it and had reached a state of unfocused relaxation about halfway through the assembly when I was shocked alert by the sound of sleigh bells. They were singing Jingle Bells… in English… in the middle of June. Take a moment and imagine that. Yeah. Most of the students near me turned to see how I reacted to hearing an English song and no doubt concluded by the goofy grin on my face that I considered this to be a most beloved song. I couldn’t help but laugh and sing along.
Well, after almost five weeks and two trips apiece to and a couple hours spent at the Immigration Office and City Hall, I’ve finally got all of my immigration and registration paperwork signed, stamped, and approved. I may have also signed away my firstborn, I’m not quite sure.
I’ll finish this post of random thoughts by mentioning a article I read a few months ago in The New Yorker about a new book complied by Smith Online Magazine of 6-word memoirs. Here’s a link to an NPR story on the book - http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18768430 . I came up with my own quite unintentionally while Stewart and I were driving up Mt. Kimpo one night shortly after I got here. As we turned yet another corner to see their was still more to climb, I remarked, “I keep thinking we’re there already.” About a second went by when both Stewart and I looked at each other and said there was my 6-word memoir – “I keep thinking I’m there already.”
I have to go now. My apartment building is having their monthly tenet meeting and I have been highly encouraged – read bullied – to attend and introduce myself to everyone. It will make them feel much more comfortable, apparently. I might question that, but who am I to argue? Maybe there will be food…
- Jenny
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
You Are Now Entering...
Last Wednesday, I found myself in Bizarro World.
After teaching my three 4th grade classes how to ask, “What is this?” and sharing my lunch with a very active 2nd grade class, I was sitting at the back of the 6•1 classroom waiting for class to begin. I’m not sure if I was specifically asked to attend this class or if I simply assumed I should as all of the other teachers in the school were in attendance as well as a few teachers from my other schools who had come especially to observe.
Given the Monkasho’s (Japanese Dept. of Education) decision to require schools to begin teaching English in an official capacity in the 5th and 6th grades next year, I assumed this would be an trial English lesson, as many of my schools have indicated they are going to begin soon. However, after 20 minutes of hearing nothing but Japanese, I had to admit that I had no idea what was going on. When the students were involved in yet another partnered exercise and the teachers were wandering around the room taking extensive notes in their red pens, I shifted over to my coordinator within the school and asked her what exactly was being taught. Her answer floored me.
The students were being taught how to hold a conversation. They were being instructed on how to speak intelligently to each other. Specifically, Harata-sensei said, they were being taught how to verbalize their agreement and disagreement with each other. She said there is an old Japanese saying, ‘Silence is money,’ however, Japanese are beginning to realize that that policy doesn’t exactly work in Western cultures and now are trying to teach their children how to talk to people.
Unable to hide my amusement, I told Harata-sensei that American teachers often have to teach the exact opposite –for the students to keep their opinions to themselves and stop chit-chatting. But it was so funny the way all of the teachers were so intently listening to the students practice talking and taking notes. There was even a teacher in the corner of the room videotaping the entire class. Bizarro World, indeed.
I have to admit, however, that the students themselves looked – as a whole – completely discombobulated by the entire thing. Whenever asked to stand up and tell the class his or her opinion on something, I couldn’t help but think that they were asked if they would like to say a few words in their own defense before the rest of the class decided whether they could live or not. They all seemed so incredibly nervous. Each student began by thanking the class for letting him or her speak to which the entire class basically replied, ‘Go on’ – they have absolutely no problem speaking as a whole. And after a few stilted sentences, the student would say something that Stewart thinks probably translated to ‘I’m finished,’ and sit down to tepid applause from the rest of the class.
After speaking to some of the teachers and observing the class more closely, I realized that the students weren’t even being asked for their own opinions on things, they were being told whether to agree or disagree with a statement. In the exercises, each student’s role was very clearly defined. In one exercise, the students were divided up into groups of three and given different identities – salaryman, teacher, and tradesmen - and a situation – meeting in a tea room – and asked to talk about what they like and dislike about their jobs. I have no idea what these kids will do when they have to talk as themselves without being told what to say. I can only hope that will be taught in the next lesson.
The need for these lessons is clear, though I wonder how effective they will be, especially since they are discouraged to voice their opinion or thoughts at any other point in the day. I feel the same way about the Monkasho’s new policy to teach creativity to schoolchildren. Apparently, they have decided it is important to teach Japan’s youth to think creatively and encourage their imagination, and to this end, they propose to devote an entire 45 minute lesson once a week to teach this. Good luck.
This entry into Bizarro World has cleared up a few questions in my mind regarding my lessons though. I have found that the students often grasp the sentence structure I introduce fairly quickly, like ‘How are you? I am ~.’ However, when asked individually, they have the most difficult time filling in the blank. I have never seen such terror on a kid’s face as when I ask them what they like to eat. His or her eyes will start to dart around the room frantically and not say a word. Even when I prompt them with ‘I like…” they will quietly repeat it while all the while looking terrified at their friends as if begging them to save him or her from certain death. I will even begin to offer choices to fill in the blank – sushi, ramen, pizza, etc. – and they still will act mystified. On my off days, I just want to yell “Pick one, it doesn’t matter!”
It does matter to Japanese, though. There seems to be a cultural disapproval of expressing one’s opinion or preference or even indicating that one has an opinion or preference. Mariko explained this when I observed once that I never saw a t-shirt with Japanese written on it. As I mentioned in my last post, my co-workers t-shirts for Sports Day not only misspelled ‘elementary,’ but more oddly in my mind, were entirely in English. Why? Why is 97% of writing on apparel or accessories in Japan in English? The other 3% appears to be a combination of German or French. Mark said that to wear a shirt with Japanese writing on it would be telling everyone who sees it your opinion on something and Japanese are terrified of doing that.
Japan in so many ways is truly the Bizarro World of America. Culturally, we are so completely opposite of each other. And like many things, I really feel like we could learn so much from each other to balance the extremes. Japan needs to learn how to encourage more expression of independent thought and America could use a little more group consciousness.
On less philosophical thoughts, I am settling into my apartment nicely. I have discovered the bus stop near my place and hopped it this past Sunday to find out that it runs downtown. I’ve also been wandering around my neighborhood on the evenings it hasn’t been raining in an attempt to get my bearings. I’ve even met one of my neighbors, a sweet middle-aged woman that lives on the floor above me. With the little bit of English she learned at the Y and my little bit of Japanese, we were able to introduce ourselves and chat for a little while.
A group of 50 or so 2nd graders are waiting for me now so I can attempt to teach them how to ask and answer, “How are you?” so I should sign off.
I’ve got a few more pictures up on Flickr.com and have found my new favorite store name, ‘Bag Lady Wisely.’ I hope you are all having good weather and enjoying your summer. We are in rainy season now with 2 out of 3 days being rainy and the 3rd day being overcast. It’s still warm, however, with temperatures in the low 80’s and humidity in the 60- 70 percent range. And my schools don’t have air conditioning. I’ll leave you with that.
- Jenny
After teaching my three 4th grade classes how to ask, “What is this?” and sharing my lunch with a very active 2nd grade class, I was sitting at the back of the 6•1 classroom waiting for class to begin. I’m not sure if I was specifically asked to attend this class or if I simply assumed I should as all of the other teachers in the school were in attendance as well as a few teachers from my other schools who had come especially to observe.
Given the Monkasho’s (Japanese Dept. of Education) decision to require schools to begin teaching English in an official capacity in the 5th and 6th grades next year, I assumed this would be an trial English lesson, as many of my schools have indicated they are going to begin soon. However, after 20 minutes of hearing nothing but Japanese, I had to admit that I had no idea what was going on. When the students were involved in yet another partnered exercise and the teachers were wandering around the room taking extensive notes in their red pens, I shifted over to my coordinator within the school and asked her what exactly was being taught. Her answer floored me.
The students were being taught how to hold a conversation. They were being instructed on how to speak intelligently to each other. Specifically, Harata-sensei said, they were being taught how to verbalize their agreement and disagreement with each other. She said there is an old Japanese saying, ‘Silence is money,’ however, Japanese are beginning to realize that that policy doesn’t exactly work in Western cultures and now are trying to teach their children how to talk to people.
Unable to hide my amusement, I told Harata-sensei that American teachers often have to teach the exact opposite –for the students to keep their opinions to themselves and stop chit-chatting. But it was so funny the way all of the teachers were so intently listening to the students practice talking and taking notes. There was even a teacher in the corner of the room videotaping the entire class. Bizarro World, indeed.
I have to admit, however, that the students themselves looked – as a whole – completely discombobulated by the entire thing. Whenever asked to stand up and tell the class his or her opinion on something, I couldn’t help but think that they were asked if they would like to say a few words in their own defense before the rest of the class decided whether they could live or not. They all seemed so incredibly nervous. Each student began by thanking the class for letting him or her speak to which the entire class basically replied, ‘Go on’ – they have absolutely no problem speaking as a whole. And after a few stilted sentences, the student would say something that Stewart thinks probably translated to ‘I’m finished,’ and sit down to tepid applause from the rest of the class.
After speaking to some of the teachers and observing the class more closely, I realized that the students weren’t even being asked for their own opinions on things, they were being told whether to agree or disagree with a statement. In the exercises, each student’s role was very clearly defined. In one exercise, the students were divided up into groups of three and given different identities – salaryman, teacher, and tradesmen - and a situation – meeting in a tea room – and asked to talk about what they like and dislike about their jobs. I have no idea what these kids will do when they have to talk as themselves without being told what to say. I can only hope that will be taught in the next lesson.
The need for these lessons is clear, though I wonder how effective they will be, especially since they are discouraged to voice their opinion or thoughts at any other point in the day. I feel the same way about the Monkasho’s new policy to teach creativity to schoolchildren. Apparently, they have decided it is important to teach Japan’s youth to think creatively and encourage their imagination, and to this end, they propose to devote an entire 45 minute lesson once a week to teach this. Good luck.
This entry into Bizarro World has cleared up a few questions in my mind regarding my lessons though. I have found that the students often grasp the sentence structure I introduce fairly quickly, like ‘How are you? I am ~.’ However, when asked individually, they have the most difficult time filling in the blank. I have never seen such terror on a kid’s face as when I ask them what they like to eat. His or her eyes will start to dart around the room frantically and not say a word. Even when I prompt them with ‘I like…” they will quietly repeat it while all the while looking terrified at their friends as if begging them to save him or her from certain death. I will even begin to offer choices to fill in the blank – sushi, ramen, pizza, etc. – and they still will act mystified. On my off days, I just want to yell “Pick one, it doesn’t matter!”
It does matter to Japanese, though. There seems to be a cultural disapproval of expressing one’s opinion or preference or even indicating that one has an opinion or preference. Mariko explained this when I observed once that I never saw a t-shirt with Japanese written on it. As I mentioned in my last post, my co-workers t-shirts for Sports Day not only misspelled ‘elementary,’ but more oddly in my mind, were entirely in English. Why? Why is 97% of writing on apparel or accessories in Japan in English? The other 3% appears to be a combination of German or French. Mark said that to wear a shirt with Japanese writing on it would be telling everyone who sees it your opinion on something and Japanese are terrified of doing that.
Japan in so many ways is truly the Bizarro World of America. Culturally, we are so completely opposite of each other. And like many things, I really feel like we could learn so much from each other to balance the extremes. Japan needs to learn how to encourage more expression of independent thought and America could use a little more group consciousness.
On less philosophical thoughts, I am settling into my apartment nicely. I have discovered the bus stop near my place and hopped it this past Sunday to find out that it runs downtown. I’ve also been wandering around my neighborhood on the evenings it hasn’t been raining in an attempt to get my bearings. I’ve even met one of my neighbors, a sweet middle-aged woman that lives on the floor above me. With the little bit of English she learned at the Y and my little bit of Japanese, we were able to introduce ourselves and chat for a little while.
A group of 50 or so 2nd graders are waiting for me now so I can attempt to teach them how to ask and answer, “How are you?” so I should sign off.
I’ve got a few more pictures up on Flickr.com and have found my new favorite store name, ‘Bag Lady Wisely.’ I hope you are all having good weather and enjoying your summer. We are in rainy season now with 2 out of 3 days being rainy and the 3rd day being overcast. It’s still warm, however, with temperatures in the low 80’s and humidity in the 60- 70 percent range. And my schools don’t have air conditioning. I’ll leave you with that.
- Jenny
Monday, June 16, 2008
Happy Father's Day!
Happy Father's Day to all the dads, grandpas, and uncles out there.
My Grandpa hung the moon and my Daddy hung the stars.
- Jenny
My Grandpa hung the moon and my Daddy hung the stars.
- Jenny
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
A Place to Lay My Head
I am sitting in the teacher’s room at Shisui-higashi (literally – Shisui East) elementary school waiting for the daily morning staff meeting to begin. Behind me, a cock is crowing ‘good morning,’ a peacock is fluttering it’s plumage, and a jet black dragonfly is fluttering about my head. It is a typical, yet totally odd, morning. I guess that could describe just about every day here – typical, yet odd.
As I oh so subtly implied in my last post, I have been very busy the past week or so. Mostly fun busy playing with Natalie, Stewart & Nobie’s granddaughter, and catching up with their daughter, Mariko. Mark was kind enough to take me to a store off Kamitori that doesn’t ‘sell anything cute.’ It took me a second to realize that wasn’t a criticism and when we got there, I really appreciated the lack of cuteness. They sold clothes, accessories, office supplies, furniture, housewares, etc. and nothing had a brand name, wording, or pictures of any kind. I can’t wait to go back.
There has been the constant lesson-planning and preparing of materials, as well as decorating my classrooms with pictures and maps of America. And of course, my everyday teaching.
Also, I have been trying to work through all of the paperwork and red tape of living and working in Japan. Stewart was helpful in taking me to the Immigration Office to change my visa status from Temporary Visitor to International Specialist. How important does that sound? Nobie has been a veritable saint to take me to the City Hall to apply for my Alien Registration Card and register my inkan. An inkan is a small round uniquely designed stamp that I will use to verify my identity on legal and financial documents. She also helped me open a checking account at their bank. It took up a whole afternoon to do these errands and most of the work was on her part,. I told Stewart later that I would be preparing all the documents to nominate her for sainthood as soon as possible.
Of course, none of these transactions are complete. My visa change is considered temporary and I will be receiving something in the mail from the Immigration Office that I have to take back to them to get the official stamp on my passport. Then, I’ll have to take that to City Hall to update my Alien Registration Card which I will then have to take to the bank to update their records. Nothing is easy, though at least I can do most of those on my own without taking up more of Nobie’s time.
Another major occupier of my time has been moving. That’s right. I’ve now got a place of my own. I moved into my mansion a few days ago. Yes, I said ‘mansion' and no, I’m not bragging. It really is a mansion. In Japan, apartments that are owned, not rented, are called ‘mansions.’ I don’t own this one, but am subletting it from a friend of Stewart’s. She lives in San Francisco with her British husband and youngest daughter, but keeps an apartment in Kumamoto for when she comes to visit her parents and oldest daughters several times a year. It works out perfectly, because it is already furnished and utilities all set up. And unlike renting from a Japanese company, I don’t have to come up with five months rent in advance or sign a two year contract. When she visits, I will just pack up a couple bags and head back to Stewart and Nobie’s.
I was interrupted in writing by teaching a couple 6th grade classes how to ask and answer “How are you?” and then the entire school attended a program to listen to a couple of female singers and male violinist. It was hilarious and I promise to write more on that later, maybe my next post. Here’s a hint - Marty Culp and Bobby Moughan-Culp.
But, back to our regularly scheduled program - My new place is in Kumamoto, about five minutes drive or fifteen minutes walk to downtown Kumamoto. It’s added about twenty minutes to my daily commute, but that’s a small price to pay. What isn’t such a small price to pay is the price of gasoline which is about $6.70 a gallon, but I do get a monthly stipend for transportation costs which will cover a good deal of that.
Across the street from the apartment is a spot of untouched land – a rarity in Japan – tall with native grasses and trees. Around the park, as I will call it, is a walking path that takes about fifteen minutes to traverse. And wild flowers are everywhere. About two-minute walk from my front door flows the Tsuboi River. And just across the street from me and up a small slope is a fantastic view of Downtown Kumamoto with Kumamoto Castle lit in the background.
The woman I am renting from is a poet – Stewart calls her ‘The Crazy Poet’ – and her husband is a graphic artist using artificial intelligence. Their artistic leanings are clearly evident in the apartment. The building itself is a fantastic building of expressionistic modern design contrasting sharp angles with unexpected curves. I haven’t seen another building like it in Japan. The inside of the apartment, is part New York warehouse with exposed rafters and cement walls and part hobo chic with rounded corners and artsy décor. Making me feel most at home are the bookshelves that line about 70% of the wall space discounting windows and doors. It’s fantastic.
I’m still settling in. Though it is fully furnished, I still have to hit the home center about every other night to pick up another little thing like trash bags and cleaning sponges as well as a few more pots and pans. I don’t think The Crazy Poet cooks too often when she’s here. It’s getting there, though. I am simply so happy that it is all working out so well. Given my casual planning when it came to moving here, I have been insanely lucky and owe Stewart and Nobie so much for everything they have done to help me.
Before I sign off, let me leave you with a new Englishism. All of my co-workers received t-shirts to wear at their Sports Day. The shirts said, “Shisuies: Erementary School of Shisui Staff.” Read it again and we’ll discuss in my next post.
- Jenny
Oh, and to all of the guys involved in getting a copy of the KU-UNC and the KU-Memphis games as well as the 2008 Orange Bowl, my biggest thanks. I've watched both basketball games twice now and am saving the Orange Bowl for a rainy day. As it's rainy season here in Kumamoto, that shouldn't be too far into the future.
As I oh so subtly implied in my last post, I have been very busy the past week or so. Mostly fun busy playing with Natalie, Stewart & Nobie’s granddaughter, and catching up with their daughter, Mariko. Mark was kind enough to take me to a store off Kamitori that doesn’t ‘sell anything cute.’ It took me a second to realize that wasn’t a criticism and when we got there, I really appreciated the lack of cuteness. They sold clothes, accessories, office supplies, furniture, housewares, etc. and nothing had a brand name, wording, or pictures of any kind. I can’t wait to go back.
There has been the constant lesson-planning and preparing of materials, as well as decorating my classrooms with pictures and maps of America. And of course, my everyday teaching.
Also, I have been trying to work through all of the paperwork and red tape of living and working in Japan. Stewart was helpful in taking me to the Immigration Office to change my visa status from Temporary Visitor to International Specialist. How important does that sound? Nobie has been a veritable saint to take me to the City Hall to apply for my Alien Registration Card and register my inkan. An inkan is a small round uniquely designed stamp that I will use to verify my identity on legal and financial documents. She also helped me open a checking account at their bank. It took up a whole afternoon to do these errands and most of the work was on her part,. I told Stewart later that I would be preparing all the documents to nominate her for sainthood as soon as possible.
Of course, none of these transactions are complete. My visa change is considered temporary and I will be receiving something in the mail from the Immigration Office that I have to take back to them to get the official stamp on my passport. Then, I’ll have to take that to City Hall to update my Alien Registration Card which I will then have to take to the bank to update their records. Nothing is easy, though at least I can do most of those on my own without taking up more of Nobie’s time.
Another major occupier of my time has been moving. That’s right. I’ve now got a place of my own. I moved into my mansion a few days ago. Yes, I said ‘mansion' and no, I’m not bragging. It really is a mansion. In Japan, apartments that are owned, not rented, are called ‘mansions.’ I don’t own this one, but am subletting it from a friend of Stewart’s. She lives in San Francisco with her British husband and youngest daughter, but keeps an apartment in Kumamoto for when she comes to visit her parents and oldest daughters several times a year. It works out perfectly, because it is already furnished and utilities all set up. And unlike renting from a Japanese company, I don’t have to come up with five months rent in advance or sign a two year contract. When she visits, I will just pack up a couple bags and head back to Stewart and Nobie’s.
I was interrupted in writing by teaching a couple 6th grade classes how to ask and answer “How are you?” and then the entire school attended a program to listen to a couple of female singers and male violinist. It was hilarious and I promise to write more on that later, maybe my next post. Here’s a hint - Marty Culp and Bobby Moughan-Culp.
But, back to our regularly scheduled program - My new place is in Kumamoto, about five minutes drive or fifteen minutes walk to downtown Kumamoto. It’s added about twenty minutes to my daily commute, but that’s a small price to pay. What isn’t such a small price to pay is the price of gasoline which is about $6.70 a gallon, but I do get a monthly stipend for transportation costs which will cover a good deal of that.
Across the street from the apartment is a spot of untouched land – a rarity in Japan – tall with native grasses and trees. Around the park, as I will call it, is a walking path that takes about fifteen minutes to traverse. And wild flowers are everywhere. About two-minute walk from my front door flows the Tsuboi River. And just across the street from me and up a small slope is a fantastic view of Downtown Kumamoto with Kumamoto Castle lit in the background.
The woman I am renting from is a poet – Stewart calls her ‘The Crazy Poet’ – and her husband is a graphic artist using artificial intelligence. Their artistic leanings are clearly evident in the apartment. The building itself is a fantastic building of expressionistic modern design contrasting sharp angles with unexpected curves. I haven’t seen another building like it in Japan. The inside of the apartment, is part New York warehouse with exposed rafters and cement walls and part hobo chic with rounded corners and artsy décor. Making me feel most at home are the bookshelves that line about 70% of the wall space discounting windows and doors. It’s fantastic.
I’m still settling in. Though it is fully furnished, I still have to hit the home center about every other night to pick up another little thing like trash bags and cleaning sponges as well as a few more pots and pans. I don’t think The Crazy Poet cooks too often when she’s here. It’s getting there, though. I am simply so happy that it is all working out so well. Given my casual planning when it came to moving here, I have been insanely lucky and owe Stewart and Nobie so much for everything they have done to help me.
Before I sign off, let me leave you with a new Englishism. All of my co-workers received t-shirts to wear at their Sports Day. The shirts said, “Shisuies: Erementary School of Shisui Staff.” Read it again and we’ll discuss in my next post.
- Jenny
Oh, and to all of the guys involved in getting a copy of the KU-UNC and the KU-Memphis games as well as the 2008 Orange Bowl, my biggest thanks. I've watched both basketball games twice now and am saving the Orange Bowl for a rainy day. As it's rainy season here in Kumamoto, that shouldn't be too far into the future.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Gone Fishin'
Sorry for the delay in posting. Between chasing my students during the day and running around with Stewart and Nobie's granddaughter in the evening, I haven't had a chance to put my thoughts to paper. I hope to have a post up soon, but until then, please check out my account - jennimcd - at Flickr. com to see the new pictures I've put up. There are several of my schools and Sports Day rehearsals.
- Jenny
- Jenny
Friday, May 30, 2008
Made in America? Part 2
As I wrote last week, the main reason I wanted to travel abroad was to learn about foods, sights, and customs foreign to the ones I had grown up with in Kansas. And of course, I am learning about all of those things. My biggest surprise, however, is that the majority of understanding I have acquired abroad has little to do with Japan and the Japanese people, but rather of the U.S. and myself.
Living halfway across the world from the place I grew up has provided me with such perspective and insight into my home country and how my personality and worldview have been so substantially shaped by where I come from. I came to Japan thinking that everything about me was uniquely Jennifer. And though intellectually I understood that we are all, to some degree, products of our environment; I suppose I only really considered family and, to a lesser extent, our hometown to be factors when considering environment. And to be honest, I never really counted my hometown as a major shaping factor of my personality. Before coming to Japan, I never realized that so much of me is not uniquely Jennifer or even quintessential girl from small town Kansas, but can really be described as quintessentially American.
These past few weeks, my schools have been rehearsing for their Sports Day – similar to the Field Days that I remember as a kid. And I’m sure many of you, especially my classmates from Osage, are wondering why they need to rehearse for weeks prior to event. We never rehearsed anything. The more I watch their rehearsals, however, the more I realize that the comparison to my Field Day is misleading. A Japanese school’s undokai – Sports Day – is rather like a miniature Olympics. Most of the rehearsals consist of practicing the Opening Ceremony to begin the day. The ceremony takes about 45 minutes when run straight through and consists of a lot of marching, flag waving, and speeches punctuated with cheers. Nothing in this seems particularly alarming, until you realize that it is all done in unison with military-like precision. Watching little kids march is cute, seeing first graders marching perfectly as a group is surprisingly disturbing. I never realized how suspicious and apprehensive I get when I see a group of people acting in unison – the military occasionally being the exception that proves the rule – especially when it comes to children.
When I was talking with my Dad recently about this, he asked if I could imagine my 6-year-old nephew, Anthony, marching in unison and standing at attention for 45 minutes while flags were raised and speeches given. Knowing Anthony, I had to laugh at such an implausible picture. But, I can’t help but believe that it would be a unlikely scenario for the vast majority of American children. These Japanese children have been raised from birth to behave this way. In most of Asia, the group is considered much more important than the individual, and this principle permeates almost every element of society. On one level, I appreciate the discipline ingrained in these children. At my core, however, I just feel itchy when I see such group behavior. I have discovered my quintessential American core of prizing the individual over the group, even if it means disorder – and maybe especially if it means disorder. I always thought my drive to be contrary was a unique element of me. Now, I can’t help but feel that is rather an expression of my American-ness.
An example Stewart told me about occurred during the first year he and Nobie moved to Japan with their young daughter. Stewart was home alone when a policeman came to the door. The policeman asked many questions about how many people lived there, how old their daughter was, what Stewart and Nobie did for jobs, etc. Stewart answered, thinking they were in trouble somehow, but the policeman simply smiled and welcomed him to the neighborhood. As Stewart was telling me this, the hairs on the back of my neck stood out and he laughed at my horrified expression. ‘That’s exactly how I felt,’ he said. When Nobie came home, he was practically in a rage. How dare the policeman ask all of those questions for no reason. Nobie tried to explain how this was common practice for the police – an effort to better know the people they are protecting. Nobie explained this was done to reassure the public. From an American viewpoint though, both Stewart and I viewed it as an invasion into their privacy. I come from a suspicious people.
A similar practice I have witnessed is the trash collection. In Japan, trash is divided into glass, aluminum, plastic, and everything else. And all trash goes in these particular bags – green for glass and aluminum, pink for miscellaneous, etc. The first time I helped Stewart take the trash to the neighborhood drop-off, though, I saw that there was a place on the bags for the name of the family to be written on it. And everyone in the neighborhood had written their names on their trash bags - everyone but Stewart. It’s not mandatory, he explained, just highly encouraged. I would refuse, too. There is no reason anyone needs to know which trash is mine. The Japanese people seem to believe - like our current President - that if you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to worry about. It’s a conviction I reject intellectually: but more importantly, I have realized, one I reject instinctually. My privacy is paramount.
On a less hallowed subject, I am the quintessential American when it comes to weather. Japanese carry umbrellas everywhere all of the time. And they get them out if there is a hint of rain. I, on the other hand, am constantly saying, ‘It’s not raining right now,’ and ‘Well, only sprinkling. I don’t need an umbrella.’ And Stewart does the exact same thing.
There are so many more examples, especially when it comes to more personal things, but the gist is, everyday I realize more and more that I am not simply Jennifer. I am Jennifer from Kansas, USA, and all elements of that sentence are vital when it comes to understanding who I am. I thought I had fully ‘discovered’ myself – as trite as that phrase is – during my years in L.A. I am beginning to understand that I will always be learning new things about myself. And this will be, I think, the most important thing to come from my time in Japan.
Next time – I’ll have new pictures posted on Flickr.com and Stewart and Nobie’s daughter and granddaughter come to visit.
- Jenny
Living halfway across the world from the place I grew up has provided me with such perspective and insight into my home country and how my personality and worldview have been so substantially shaped by where I come from. I came to Japan thinking that everything about me was uniquely Jennifer. And though intellectually I understood that we are all, to some degree, products of our environment; I suppose I only really considered family and, to a lesser extent, our hometown to be factors when considering environment. And to be honest, I never really counted my hometown as a major shaping factor of my personality. Before coming to Japan, I never realized that so much of me is not uniquely Jennifer or even quintessential girl from small town Kansas, but can really be described as quintessentially American.
These past few weeks, my schools have been rehearsing for their Sports Day – similar to the Field Days that I remember as a kid. And I’m sure many of you, especially my classmates from Osage, are wondering why they need to rehearse for weeks prior to event. We never rehearsed anything. The more I watch their rehearsals, however, the more I realize that the comparison to my Field Day is misleading. A Japanese school’s undokai – Sports Day – is rather like a miniature Olympics. Most of the rehearsals consist of practicing the Opening Ceremony to begin the day. The ceremony takes about 45 minutes when run straight through and consists of a lot of marching, flag waving, and speeches punctuated with cheers. Nothing in this seems particularly alarming, until you realize that it is all done in unison with military-like precision. Watching little kids march is cute, seeing first graders marching perfectly as a group is surprisingly disturbing. I never realized how suspicious and apprehensive I get when I see a group of people acting in unison – the military occasionally being the exception that proves the rule – especially when it comes to children.
When I was talking with my Dad recently about this, he asked if I could imagine my 6-year-old nephew, Anthony, marching in unison and standing at attention for 45 minutes while flags were raised and speeches given. Knowing Anthony, I had to laugh at such an implausible picture. But, I can’t help but believe that it would be a unlikely scenario for the vast majority of American children. These Japanese children have been raised from birth to behave this way. In most of Asia, the group is considered much more important than the individual, and this principle permeates almost every element of society. On one level, I appreciate the discipline ingrained in these children. At my core, however, I just feel itchy when I see such group behavior. I have discovered my quintessential American core of prizing the individual over the group, even if it means disorder – and maybe especially if it means disorder. I always thought my drive to be contrary was a unique element of me. Now, I can’t help but feel that is rather an expression of my American-ness.
An example Stewart told me about occurred during the first year he and Nobie moved to Japan with their young daughter. Stewart was home alone when a policeman came to the door. The policeman asked many questions about how many people lived there, how old their daughter was, what Stewart and Nobie did for jobs, etc. Stewart answered, thinking they were in trouble somehow, but the policeman simply smiled and welcomed him to the neighborhood. As Stewart was telling me this, the hairs on the back of my neck stood out and he laughed at my horrified expression. ‘That’s exactly how I felt,’ he said. When Nobie came home, he was practically in a rage. How dare the policeman ask all of those questions for no reason. Nobie tried to explain how this was common practice for the police – an effort to better know the people they are protecting. Nobie explained this was done to reassure the public. From an American viewpoint though, both Stewart and I viewed it as an invasion into their privacy. I come from a suspicious people.
A similar practice I have witnessed is the trash collection. In Japan, trash is divided into glass, aluminum, plastic, and everything else. And all trash goes in these particular bags – green for glass and aluminum, pink for miscellaneous, etc. The first time I helped Stewart take the trash to the neighborhood drop-off, though, I saw that there was a place on the bags for the name of the family to be written on it. And everyone in the neighborhood had written their names on their trash bags - everyone but Stewart. It’s not mandatory, he explained, just highly encouraged. I would refuse, too. There is no reason anyone needs to know which trash is mine. The Japanese people seem to believe - like our current President - that if you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to worry about. It’s a conviction I reject intellectually: but more importantly, I have realized, one I reject instinctually. My privacy is paramount.
On a less hallowed subject, I am the quintessential American when it comes to weather. Japanese carry umbrellas everywhere all of the time. And they get them out if there is a hint of rain. I, on the other hand, am constantly saying, ‘It’s not raining right now,’ and ‘Well, only sprinkling. I don’t need an umbrella.’ And Stewart does the exact same thing.
There are so many more examples, especially when it comes to more personal things, but the gist is, everyday I realize more and more that I am not simply Jennifer. I am Jennifer from Kansas, USA, and all elements of that sentence are vital when it comes to understanding who I am. I thought I had fully ‘discovered’ myself – as trite as that phrase is – during my years in L.A. I am beginning to understand that I will always be learning new things about myself. And this will be, I think, the most important thing to come from my time in Japan.
Next time – I’ll have new pictures posted on Flickr.com and Stewart and Nobie’s daughter and granddaughter come to visit.
- Jenny
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Made In America? Part 1
Sometimes – okay, 99% of the time – I feel like I have ‘AMERICAN’ stamped on my forehead. It is, of course, nothing that I am embarrassed about. I just never realized such a label could come with a breathtaking scope of implications. I was warned by my agents at OWLS that whatever I say or do will be construed by my students as indicative of what all Americans say and do. And though that advice is certainly sound: it is slightly misleading, in my observations. More than presenting a model of a typical American, I find myself fighting against the Japanese mental image of all Americans.
I thought I understood and experienced the concept of ‘stereotyping.’ However, living in one of the last nation states in the world – the population is 98.5% Japanese ethnicity – I have gained a whole new understanding of the term. Despite having never been acquainted with an American, most Japanese have this image of what an American is. And it is an image that is difficult to shake…
I am often given coffee by my co-workers. They don’t ask if I would like any coffee – this is a Japanese politeness: by not asking, they are protecting me from having to make a decision – they simply place a cup of coffee on my desk. Unfortunately, I don’t like coffee. I would much prefer tea. This doesn’t occur to my co-workers, though. I am American, so of course I drink coffee. The few times I have been asked and I expressed my preference of tea over coffee, they seem genuinely shocked. To discover that not only have I heard of green tea, but that I actually like it is simply stunning.
Stewart says that though the Japanese would not admit it, they often believe that things they consider to be quintessentially Japanese - like green tea, sushi, karaoke, etc. – if even known by the outside world, which they sincerely doubt, certainly cannot be liked or appreciated by outsiders. An American that comes to Japan already knowing of and enjoying tekka maki, well, that is just beyond belief.
To this end, I have little difficulty saying ‘no’ to foods like watermelon or hamburgers. However, I have never declined any traditional Japanese food. About a week ago, I was eating lunch with a 4th grade class when they offered me some umeboshi – a pickled fruit similar to a plum. I tried one and amused the class with my facial expressions while eating it; umeboshi are amazingly tart. I wasn’t especially fond of it, but preceded to eat three more just to prove to them that I could.
Even to Japanese that I have not met, but just pass on the street, I am assumed to be American. But I’m not quite sure why that is. Most westerners in Japan, especially of my age, are British, Canadian, Australian, etc. as these cultures embrace the concept of ‘gap year’ or ‘working holiday’– a period of time, usually about a year, taken between major stages of life such as between high school and college or undergraduate program and graduate school. There are many programs between Japan and these countries which allow expedited visa approval and employment opportunities to such applicants.
Anyway, the upshot of it is: if I do something impolite or a cultural faux pas, I would probably be disregarded as an ‘ignorant American.’ If an Australian did the same thing, they would probably be disregarded as an ‘ignorant American.’ I’m swimming against the tide here. And most of you know me well enough that perhaps the only thing I am more afraid of than appearing as if I do not have a sense of humor is appearing ignorant. When it all comes down to it, that really is the main reason I came to Japan, to experience all of these things that I haven’t before, so that in the future, when someone starts to talk of takoyaki – commonly referred to as octopus balls in English, but I’ll call them octopus beignets to give you a better idea – I can say that not only do I know what they are talking about, but that I have eaten them before and liked them tremendously. I want to be cultured dammit!
Part 2 coming soon…..
I thought I understood and experienced the concept of ‘stereotyping.’ However, living in one of the last nation states in the world – the population is 98.5% Japanese ethnicity – I have gained a whole new understanding of the term. Despite having never been acquainted with an American, most Japanese have this image of what an American is. And it is an image that is difficult to shake…
I am often given coffee by my co-workers. They don’t ask if I would like any coffee – this is a Japanese politeness: by not asking, they are protecting me from having to make a decision – they simply place a cup of coffee on my desk. Unfortunately, I don’t like coffee. I would much prefer tea. This doesn’t occur to my co-workers, though. I am American, so of course I drink coffee. The few times I have been asked and I expressed my preference of tea over coffee, they seem genuinely shocked. To discover that not only have I heard of green tea, but that I actually like it is simply stunning.
Stewart says that though the Japanese would not admit it, they often believe that things they consider to be quintessentially Japanese - like green tea, sushi, karaoke, etc. – if even known by the outside world, which they sincerely doubt, certainly cannot be liked or appreciated by outsiders. An American that comes to Japan already knowing of and enjoying tekka maki, well, that is just beyond belief.
To this end, I have little difficulty saying ‘no’ to foods like watermelon or hamburgers. However, I have never declined any traditional Japanese food. About a week ago, I was eating lunch with a 4th grade class when they offered me some umeboshi – a pickled fruit similar to a plum. I tried one and amused the class with my facial expressions while eating it; umeboshi are amazingly tart. I wasn’t especially fond of it, but preceded to eat three more just to prove to them that I could.
Even to Japanese that I have not met, but just pass on the street, I am assumed to be American. But I’m not quite sure why that is. Most westerners in Japan, especially of my age, are British, Canadian, Australian, etc. as these cultures embrace the concept of ‘gap year’ or ‘working holiday’– a period of time, usually about a year, taken between major stages of life such as between high school and college or undergraduate program and graduate school. There are many programs between Japan and these countries which allow expedited visa approval and employment opportunities to such applicants.
Anyway, the upshot of it is: if I do something impolite or a cultural faux pas, I would probably be disregarded as an ‘ignorant American.’ If an Australian did the same thing, they would probably be disregarded as an ‘ignorant American.’ I’m swimming against the tide here. And most of you know me well enough that perhaps the only thing I am more afraid of than appearing as if I do not have a sense of humor is appearing ignorant. When it all comes down to it, that really is the main reason I came to Japan, to experience all of these things that I haven’t before, so that in the future, when someone starts to talk of takoyaki – commonly referred to as octopus balls in English, but I’ll call them octopus beignets to give you a better idea – I can say that not only do I know what they are talking about, but that I have eaten them before and liked them tremendously. I want to be cultured dammit!
Part 2 coming soon…..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
