I'm sure many people have told you that Japanese people are all very kind, friendly, or submissive. Well you can take that notion and wipe it completely out of your mind.
There is no doubt that when you come to Japan, you'll probably be treated very nicely by nearly all the people around you, especially if you're Caucasian or some other race that is not Japanese-looking. Even if you are Japanese or look Japanese (which has caused me a lot of trouble so far), just being a stranger entitles you to be
treated kindly and politely. The whole idea is that being some sort of outsider, whether you are a guest in someone's house, someone's neighborhood, or the country of Japan, entitles you to special treatment. The social protocol is to treat guests with an elaborate amount of politeness and respect.
Just because Japanese people have to ability to be indescribably kind doesn't mean they can be described as "nice people". Obviously many people in Japan are naturally very nice people, but that's no different than the citizenry of any other country. And, like the citizenry of any other country, some Japanese people have the ability to be absurdly mean. The difference is that, in Japan, the nice people and the mean people tend to be one and the same.
This is because much of Japan is schizophrenic.
I wouldn't go so far as to say that the entire population has a psychological disorder. It's more that the social status quo has trained all people to act in a very bipolar manner. This is evident in the language structure itself. Those of you who speak or understand Japanese (and some other languages, like Korean) know that there is a tiered system for polite speech. At the very bottom is casual (plain) speech, followed by the standard "polite speech" (teineigo). Above that, there are two categories called "humble speech" (kenjougo, which is used to describe action performed by one's self in a very humble manner) and "respectful speech" (sonkeigo, which is used to describe action performed by others in an exalted manner). Essentially, the language system has a different way to say the exact same things in various situations. I, along with many other people from different backgrounds, have lots of trouble developing a situational awareness to use the different types of speech. I often inadvertently switch back and forth between plain, polite, and humble/respectful speech in the span of a conversation (and sometimes in the span of a sentence) just because I naturally jump to the form that I've heard used the most. Japanese people, however, are excellent at knowing when to use a certain type of speech, and they can turn on politeness like a light switch.
The cultural schizophrenia is easily visible when monitoring behavior between classes of the established social hierarchy. The service class - which includes people like clerks, bus drivers, or anyone who interacts with customers - does a lot of talking. They almost always use humble and respectful speech when they talk to customers, and are usually the only ones talking at all. Customers generally walk around being served without saying anything at all. At the supermarket, the clerk greets you, tells you the price of everything, tells you the total price, announces how much you paid, tells you how much change you get, and thanks you for coming. The customer is not expected to say anything. The vast majority of the time I've seen it, the customers have just walked in, thrown down their groceries and cash, and walked away without a word. This goes for people on the bus as well. The passengers deposit their ticket, pay their fares, and leave without a single word of thanks or appreciation to the driver for getting them to their destination safely. As a former bus driver, this particularly gets on my nerves.
The craziness continues into the educational system and workplace as well. For example, I work at several schools, and I get to see teacher-teacher and teacher-student interaction every day. I've never felt unwelcome at any of my schools, and I have also never seen a teacher be treated badly by another teacher. They don't criticize each other, and they definitely don't belittle each other. Most interactions are friendly small talk or notification of some important matter. Many of the teachers are docile and keep to themselves most of the time. Whenever teachers talk to the head teacher, they are always respectful and compliant.
However, I've seen these same teachers, who were always calm and respectful, turn into ferocious monsters. Some of these teachers yell at their students. And they don't just raise their voices; they scream and holler at their kids like they've done something atrocious and unforgivable. In fact, one of the teachers is letting loose the Guns of the Navarone on a student in the hallway as I'm typing this. Why? The times I've seen it, it's because the students weren't standing or sitting straight enough, or because they were talking softly during some sort of gathering. Things like this would seem trivial to most people, especially in the US, but somehow they are things to get worked up over in this country. Let me remind you that these teachers are the ones that have always treated me kindly, always smile at me and other teachers, and just generally seem like nice people.
It's not just the teachers who are schizophrenic. The students display many signs of this "cultural disorder" as well. During school assemblies and ceremonies, they are silent and steady soldiers. They walk in straight lines, sit or stand bolt upright for half an hour or more, and follow directions to a T. However, this only applies for those certain occasions. When the same kids are in a classroom, especially during break time or even during lessons (if the teacher is particularly weak), they can be uncontrollable gremlins. I've seen teachers nearly break into tears because their classes were so misbehaved.
All this schizophrenia has penetrated so far into their minds that it seems to have affected their taste buds as well. Those of you who know me know that I love food that has multiple stages. This is why I like Warheads and caramel apple candies so much. Japanese people share the same sentiment as me, but for a different reason. According to them, "the Warheads were so sour, but then got sweeter. I love this candy that is sophisticated and has many faces." They like candies that have the ability to delight you and smack you around a little bit at the same time. Basically, they like candies that act like Japanese people.
I don't really know why Japanese society finds it necessary to display one's self in a different way for every situation, but I have a long time to figure that out. Honestly, I'm sure there are many Japanese people who display their genuine emotions at all times, so I don't want to give you the false impression that all Japanese people have deceptive personalities. I just would rather not find out what the Japanese people I enjoy being around are really like when they're not around me.
Anyways, that's all for today! This post displays some disappointment and frustration, but I assure you that I'm still having a good time and a great experience. For now, Ryan out!
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Messing with the Students
Being a bit of a prankster, I like to mess around with my students once in a while. It's especially funny because they don't understand much English, and I can get away with a lot of stuff.
Self-introductions can get very fun in this way. During question time, some of the students have asked me things like, "What did you do yesterday?" or, "What did you do last night?" for lack of better questions or to use their newly learned past tense. I take these opportunities to tell them things like "I'm afraid I can't say it in front of children," or proclaim loudly, "None of your business!" Since the kids generally don't understand English at this level, it's mostly the JTE (Japanese Teacher of English) that laughs his/her ass off alone in the back of the room.
While I introduce my hobbies, I have pictures of me throwing people in Hapkido. All of the kids recognize this as Judo, and stare wide-eyed at the pictures of a familiar practice in an unfamiliar culture. I have some rowdier students who are somewhat disruptive and take a lot of energy to deal with, so I take this opportunity to vent by singling them out and saying, "See? I can kill you!" Usually, their lack of understanding elicits no reaction, and the class continues as normal. However, one of my classes (a particularly rowdy one) fell dead silent right after I said it. I was terrified that maybe the students understood what I said, so I freaked out for a few seconds. In the end, it turned out that they just shut up because they were confused, and that's all.
Another one of my favorite practices is pretending I don't speak Japanese. When I meet a class for the first time, I usually speak exclusively English to the kids, whether we are in class or not. This makes a lot of them think I can't speak Japanese. Then, in the middle of class, while I'm walking around helping with their question making activity, I participate with some of the groups. When I arrive, they usually look at each other nervously and chatter in Japanese about my presence. Sometimes, when they are being particularly chatty, I respond to one of the student's comments in Japanese, and then leave right as the group turns toward me in astonishment. (By the way, although my Japanese level is only about high intermediate in grammar and vocabulary, I don't have an accent. I look and sound entirely Japanese. Most Japanese people and even some of the other JETs mistaken me for a Japanese person.)
During question time, I almost always get the question: "Do you speak Japanese?" When I get back to the question, I always say, "Okay, let's see what the next question is. So, can I speak Japanese? Hmm... no, I can't understand or speak any Japanese, I only understand English, alright?" And, of course, I do this entirely in Japanese. You'd think that it would be obvious to the students that I'm lying, but you'd be wrong. Most of the students get it right and make an uproar, saying, "You're speaking Japanese, dammit!" However, I've had other kids who, in their written response to my introduction, state that I don't speak any Japanese. I'm not sure if they're just really thick, or maybe they just took my word for it because they thought that I actually don't understand very much and only memorized a few lines of (perfectly fluent) Japanese.
Then, there is this one 2nd grader at Toyama Middle School that I particularly like to mess with. I was wandering around after school, and I found a few students hanging around the back of the building with a little taiko drum. I said hi to them, and they were all pretty confused because they hadn't met me yet. I turned around, and there was a rather large second year boy staring at me suspiciously. I said hi, and he kept giving me that suspicious look. In Japanese, I asked him if everything was okay, and he said no. I asked why. He asked me who I was, so I showed him my name tag and I told him I was the new English ALT. He looked at my name tag and found out I wasn't Japanese. I then asked what they were doing with the drum, and they told me that they were the "cheering leaders" that head group chants and cheers during the sports competitions. I told him I'd go teach in his class the next day and said goodbye.
The following day, I went to his class, and he started trying to say something to me in Japanese. I shrugged, shook my head, and said in the worst American accent of Japanese ever, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND." He gave me a surprised look, and then turned to try to explain to his friends, who I supposed were expecting something and were now all persecuting him. He stuttered, "But... yesterday... yesterday he was talking to me and... wait, speak Japanese!" I shrugged again and gave him the same answer. He had the most desperately pleading and confused look on his face. I chuckled to myself and started the English lesson.
I later bumped into him in the hall with his friends. He called to me and tried to make me speak Japanese again, but I still felt playful and wanted to mess with him more. He looked at me desperately and asked, "Why wont you speak Japanese?" I gave him a smile and walked away, leaving him stunned and his friends laughing. Poor guy...
Finally, the last event is the one I'm most proud of. I was at Toyama Nishi Elementary teaching the sixth grade classes, and I walked into my next class during break time. One of the kids was comfortably proclaiming "自由、自由！" (or "jiyuu jiyuu") while stretching his arms upwards. I laughed as I walked past him, and I asked him if he knew how to say that in English. When he told me he didn't know, I raised my hands and yelled, "FREEDOM!!" He copied me, and I had successfully started a trend. The students next to him copied him, and it spread like wildfire. By the time I had finished the lesson and lunch break started, most of the boys were expressing their free time by raising their arms and shouting, "FREEEEEDOM!!" Now I have a sixth grade class filled with little Bravehearts! I'm so proud...
Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!
Self-introductions can get very fun in this way. During question time, some of the students have asked me things like, "What did you do yesterday?" or, "What did you do last night?" for lack of better questions or to use their newly learned past tense. I take these opportunities to tell them things like "I'm afraid I can't say it in front of children," or proclaim loudly, "None of your business!" Since the kids generally don't understand English at this level, it's mostly the JTE (Japanese Teacher of English) that laughs his/her ass off alone in the back of the room.
While I introduce my hobbies, I have pictures of me throwing people in Hapkido. All of the kids recognize this as Judo, and stare wide-eyed at the pictures of a familiar practice in an unfamiliar culture. I have some rowdier students who are somewhat disruptive and take a lot of energy to deal with, so I take this opportunity to vent by singling them out and saying, "See? I can kill you!" Usually, their lack of understanding elicits no reaction, and the class continues as normal. However, one of my classes (a particularly rowdy one) fell dead silent right after I said it. I was terrified that maybe the students understood what I said, so I freaked out for a few seconds. In the end, it turned out that they just shut up because they were confused, and that's all.
Another one of my favorite practices is pretending I don't speak Japanese. When I meet a class for the first time, I usually speak exclusively English to the kids, whether we are in class or not. This makes a lot of them think I can't speak Japanese. Then, in the middle of class, while I'm walking around helping with their question making activity, I participate with some of the groups. When I arrive, they usually look at each other nervously and chatter in Japanese about my presence. Sometimes, when they are being particularly chatty, I respond to one of the student's comments in Japanese, and then leave right as the group turns toward me in astonishment. (By the way, although my Japanese level is only about high intermediate in grammar and vocabulary, I don't have an accent. I look and sound entirely Japanese. Most Japanese people and even some of the other JETs mistaken me for a Japanese person.)
During question time, I almost always get the question: "Do you speak Japanese?" When I get back to the question, I always say, "Okay, let's see what the next question is. So, can I speak Japanese? Hmm... no, I can't understand or speak any Japanese, I only understand English, alright?" And, of course, I do this entirely in Japanese. You'd think that it would be obvious to the students that I'm lying, but you'd be wrong. Most of the students get it right and make an uproar, saying, "You're speaking Japanese, dammit!" However, I've had other kids who, in their written response to my introduction, state that I don't speak any Japanese. I'm not sure if they're just really thick, or maybe they just took my word for it because they thought that I actually don't understand very much and only memorized a few lines of (perfectly fluent) Japanese.
Then, there is this one 2nd grader at Toyama Middle School that I particularly like to mess with. I was wandering around after school, and I found a few students hanging around the back of the building with a little taiko drum. I said hi to them, and they were all pretty confused because they hadn't met me yet. I turned around, and there was a rather large second year boy staring at me suspiciously. I said hi, and he kept giving me that suspicious look. In Japanese, I asked him if everything was okay, and he said no. I asked why. He asked me who I was, so I showed him my name tag and I told him I was the new English ALT. He looked at my name tag and found out I wasn't Japanese. I then asked what they were doing with the drum, and they told me that they were the "cheering leaders" that head group chants and cheers during the sports competitions. I told him I'd go teach in his class the next day and said goodbye.
The following day, I went to his class, and he started trying to say something to me in Japanese. I shrugged, shook my head, and said in the worst American accent of Japanese ever, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND." He gave me a surprised look, and then turned to try to explain to his friends, who I supposed were expecting something and were now all persecuting him. He stuttered, "But... yesterday... yesterday he was talking to me and... wait, speak Japanese!" I shrugged again and gave him the same answer. He had the most desperately pleading and confused look on his face. I chuckled to myself and started the English lesson.
I later bumped into him in the hall with his friends. He called to me and tried to make me speak Japanese again, but I still felt playful and wanted to mess with him more. He looked at me desperately and asked, "Why wont you speak Japanese?" I gave him a smile and walked away, leaving him stunned and his friends laughing. Poor guy...
Finally, the last event is the one I'm most proud of. I was at Toyama Nishi Elementary teaching the sixth grade classes, and I walked into my next class during break time. One of the kids was comfortably proclaiming "自由、自由！" (or "jiyuu jiyuu") while stretching his arms upwards. I laughed as I walked past him, and I asked him if he knew how to say that in English. When he told me he didn't know, I raised my hands and yelled, "FREEDOM!!" He copied me, and I had successfully started a trend. The students next to him copied him, and it spread like wildfire. By the time I had finished the lesson and lunch break started, most of the boys were expressing their free time by raising their arms and shouting, "FREEEEEDOM!!" Now I have a sixth grade class filled with little Bravehearts! I'm so proud...
Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!
Monday, September 17, 2012
A Visit from Honeybunny & Lessons Learned
This weekend, my girlfriend came to visit me. She's stationed in a city called Komagane in the southern part of a prefecture called Nagano. You may have heard of Nagano City from when the winter Olympics were held back in 1998, but Komagane is actually a few hours bus ride south of Nagano City. Anyways, we've been planning this trip for a while, and all the plans were made. We were hoping the trip would go without a hitch, but alas we were not so lucky.
It is impossible to get straight from Komagane to Aomori. Komagane is locked in a valley between two mountain ranges, and the nearest airport is hours away in Matsumoto. Even if you got to the airport, there is no direct flight to Aomori. You would instead need to fly to Tokyo and transfer to another domestic flight. Flying is also very expensive in Japan, costing an equivalent of about $400 for what would be an equivalent to a flight from L.A. to San Francisco.
The best option is to take the bus or the train, but once again, there is no direct route from Nagano prefecture to Aomori. You still need to use Tokyo as the main transfer point to get anywhere, which is rather annoying. The only feasible option to get to Tokyo is the highway bus, which take a few hours. From Tokyo, you can take the bullet train, limited express trains, or an overnight bus to Aomori. The overnight bus is much cheaper than the trains (costing less than half), so we vouched for that option. However, these require online reservations, so we needed to do that.
All the tickets had been purchased and printed, and Honeybunny left Komagane on the highway bus, making sure to leave about an hour and a half of leeway between arrival in Tokyo (Shinjuku) and departure from Tokyo (Ueno, about a 20 min subway ride away). Unfortunately, the highway bus from Komagane was morbidly late, and by the time she arrived in Shinjuku, the bus to Aomori had already departed. You may have some preconceptions that everything is Japan is always efficient, reliable, and on time. This is definitely true for the train system, which runs by the second and is reliable beyond belief (when it's not snowing). Buses, on the other hand, are not nearly as reliable. For the city buses in Aomori, there is a chart describing what stops there are and how long it takes to get from one stop to another. I've had buses take twice as long as promised to get to the destination. The highway bus Honeybunny took was late by 2 whole hours!
Furthermore, since she had a problem with her passport and legal paperwork, she didn't have a cell phone. So, it was past 9 pm, and she was stuck in Tokyo with no cell phone, no way to get to Aomori, and no place to stay for the night. She desperately called me on a payphone for help, and I had to ask an ALT friend for help booking an emergency room at a hotel (which were packed because of the 3-day weekend) and telling her how to get there on the labyrinth of trains which is the Tokyo Metropolitan Public Transport System. I managed to give her direction right as she ran out of coins and the payphone cut off.
She arrived at her hotel at around 11:30 pm, but there was trouble actually getting her room. The hotel clerks didn't speak English, and Honeybunny's Japanese isn't sparkling either. I got a phone call from the hotel asking me for the reservation information, so I gave him all I could. It wasn't enough. This hotel was kind of stuck in the last century, so they didn't have a working computer or printer. I ended up forwarding the email confirmation to Honeybunny, and she used her (inactive) iPhone and hotel wifi to download it. I had already paid by credit card, but the clerk wanted paper proof (by fax!) that I had paid already. Being unable to give him any, we had to pay for the room in cash and ask for a refund on the credit card later. All that mattered to me was that she had a safe place to stay and get a good night's rest.
The next day, she headed back to Tokyo Station to try to catch the earliest bullet train to Aomori. At this point, we had already lost the 4500 yen (or about $55+) for the bus reservation. She had used up too much of her cash paying for the hotel room (which was 5880 yen (or about $70+), so she didn't have enough to pay for the train (which is about 17,000 yen, or about $200+). She needed to go to the nearest post office (and subsequently, bank) to withdraw money, and I had to help her find one. A few payphone calls and ATM malfunctions later, she finally had cash in hand and boarded the bullet train to Aomori. Thank god the fiasco is over...
After she got here, I didn't even really care about what just happened the day before, nor the fact that we just lost more than 25,000 yen. She made it over safely, and being together again was worth much more than the money spent to get her here. We didn't go around too much while she was here, but we spent most of our time hanging out together either at the beach park or at home. We also went to the grocery store and bought lots of seafood, since her prefecture is landlocked and sadly lacking in fresh fish. We made lots of home-cooked meals, and it was cute when she started salivating uncontrollably from the nostalgic taste of my cooking. We took some pictures in the living room for memories:
I also gave her an early birthday present, which was a hand-sketched portrait of the both of us before we left for Japan:
It was sad when she needed to leave the next night, but it was nice to be reminded of each others' presence before another long separation. Next time, it's my turn to make the journey, and I hope the trip turns out much smoother than hers did.
It is impossible to get straight from Komagane to Aomori. Komagane is locked in a valley between two mountain ranges, and the nearest airport is hours away in Matsumoto. Even if you got to the airport, there is no direct flight to Aomori. You would instead need to fly to Tokyo and transfer to another domestic flight. Flying is also very expensive in Japan, costing an equivalent of about $400 for what would be an equivalent to a flight from L.A. to San Francisco.
The best option is to take the bus or the train, but once again, there is no direct route from Nagano prefecture to Aomori. You still need to use Tokyo as the main transfer point to get anywhere, which is rather annoying. The only feasible option to get to Tokyo is the highway bus, which take a few hours. From Tokyo, you can take the bullet train, limited express trains, or an overnight bus to Aomori. The overnight bus is much cheaper than the trains (costing less than half), so we vouched for that option. However, these require online reservations, so we needed to do that.
All the tickets had been purchased and printed, and Honeybunny left Komagane on the highway bus, making sure to leave about an hour and a half of leeway between arrival in Tokyo (Shinjuku) and departure from Tokyo (Ueno, about a 20 min subway ride away). Unfortunately, the highway bus from Komagane was morbidly late, and by the time she arrived in Shinjuku, the bus to Aomori had already departed. You may have some preconceptions that everything is Japan is always efficient, reliable, and on time. This is definitely true for the train system, which runs by the second and is reliable beyond belief (when it's not snowing). Buses, on the other hand, are not nearly as reliable. For the city buses in Aomori, there is a chart describing what stops there are and how long it takes to get from one stop to another. I've had buses take twice as long as promised to get to the destination. The highway bus Honeybunny took was late by 2 whole hours!
Furthermore, since she had a problem with her passport and legal paperwork, she didn't have a cell phone. So, it was past 9 pm, and she was stuck in Tokyo with no cell phone, no way to get to Aomori, and no place to stay for the night. She desperately called me on a payphone for help, and I had to ask an ALT friend for help booking an emergency room at a hotel (which were packed because of the 3-day weekend) and telling her how to get there on the labyrinth of trains which is the Tokyo Metropolitan Public Transport System. I managed to give her direction right as she ran out of coins and the payphone cut off.
She arrived at her hotel at around 11:30 pm, but there was trouble actually getting her room. The hotel clerks didn't speak English, and Honeybunny's Japanese isn't sparkling either. I got a phone call from the hotel asking me for the reservation information, so I gave him all I could. It wasn't enough. This hotel was kind of stuck in the last century, so they didn't have a working computer or printer. I ended up forwarding the email confirmation to Honeybunny, and she used her (inactive) iPhone and hotel wifi to download it. I had already paid by credit card, but the clerk wanted paper proof (by fax!) that I had paid already. Being unable to give him any, we had to pay for the room in cash and ask for a refund on the credit card later. All that mattered to me was that she had a safe place to stay and get a good night's rest.
The next day, she headed back to Tokyo Station to try to catch the earliest bullet train to Aomori. At this point, we had already lost the 4500 yen (or about $55+) for the bus reservation. She had used up too much of her cash paying for the hotel room (which was 5880 yen (or about $70+), so she didn't have enough to pay for the train (which is about 17,000 yen, or about $200+). She needed to go to the nearest post office (and subsequently, bank) to withdraw money, and I had to help her find one. A few payphone calls and ATM malfunctions later, she finally had cash in hand and boarded the bullet train to Aomori. Thank god the fiasco is over...
After she got here, I didn't even really care about what just happened the day before, nor the fact that we just lost more than 25,000 yen. She made it over safely, and being together again was worth much more than the money spent to get her here. We didn't go around too much while she was here, but we spent most of our time hanging out together either at the beach park or at home. We also went to the grocery store and bought lots of seafood, since her prefecture is landlocked and sadly lacking in fresh fish. We made lots of home-cooked meals, and it was cute when she started salivating uncontrollably from the nostalgic taste of my cooking. We took some pictures in the living room for memories:
I also gave her an early birthday present, which was a hand-sketched portrait of the both of us before we left for Japan:
It was sad when she needed to leave the next night, but it was nice to be reminded of each others' presence before another long separation. Next time, it's my turn to make the journey, and I hope the trip turns out much smoother than hers did.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
My Middle Schools
Hello again!
Now let's talk about my middle schools. I have 2 of them: Higashi 東 and Toyama 戸山. Higashi middle school is my "base school", so it's where I go if I'm done with my elementary schools and the workday is still not yet over. Out of all the schools I visit, I go to Higashi the most often and for the longest amount of time. It's not a particularly large school, but they are constructing a new larger building to comply with new earthquake code in the midst of the Great Eastern Japanese Earthquake. Toyama middle school is in the southern part of Aomori and feels larger than Higashi middle school, just because there are a lot of extra rooms they don't use.
Middle schools here in Japan feel very different from middle schools in America. First of all, the teacher/student operations are opposite of those in the US. Here, the teachers all rotate among the classrooms while the students stay together in the same classroom with the same classmates. When the kids get older, the classes still stay together (usually along with the same homeroom teacher) for their entire stay at the school, so the students and homeroom teacher are all very familiar with each other by the time they're finished.
Also, the middle schools have 3 grades instead of 2, and the high schools also have 3 years instead of 4. However, remember that education is only mandatory until the end of middle school, so high school is entirely optional (although the vast majority of student do continue to high school). The 3 year middle school system feels very strange compared to the US. Before, middle school was the awkward transitional period between being a child and being an adolescent. In Japan, since the age gap is larger, there is a huge spectrum of behaviors all contained within a single school.
On the one hand, the 7th graders all feel like children. They are physically tiny, sometimes loud and rowdy, and are very likely to participate in more physical-type activities. They are also more prone to react openly and truthfully, which can sometimes be rude. Many of them are still unafraid to stare at something strange and unfamiliar, which in this case is me.
On the other hand, the 9th graders feel like young adults already. They are able to read the atmosphere of the situation and hide their curiosity as best they can. I still get stared at quite a bit (which I confirm with my excellent peripheral vision), but they turn away and pretend like they weren't looking when I make eye contact. They are mostly shy when they are alone, but gather great courage in large numbers. They can get easily embarrassed or excited when put on the spot.
That being said, I have to admit that I like the 3rd graders the most. They first graders don't know much English and can be rowdy and rude at times. They're the most energetic, so they're the hardest to keep up with on a slow day. The 3rd graders have the best English ability and are the most willing to interact with me outside of the classroom as well. They want to get along, and the smaller age gap lets them treat me like more of a peer instead of an authority figure. Most of the guys are pretty tall and better behaved at this point, and the girls are more mature and open to interaction.
And did I mention the third year girls are cute? If I didn't, damn they are cute! Especially the sports girls! I went to the gym one day during lunch break at Toyoma Middle School, and a few of the girls were playing volleyball. While they were knocking it around, it rolled over to me, so I picked it up and knocked it back. They took this as a cue to start playing volleyball with me. Some of the other girls who were walking around the hallways saw, and they came running over to join in. Pretty soon, we had a good 8 person circle knocking around a volleyball. The one girl in the volleyball club (named Reina) taught me how to hit a volleyball correctly, and then refused to pass the ball to anyone but me. We all had fun, and they were particularly impressed with my ability to stop a stray ball with my legs (Thank you Hapkido! Head kicks forever!).
At the end, they all crowded around me and bombarded me with rapid fire self-introductions. I staggered backwards overwhelmed, and the girls giggled happily at each other. One of them asked me, "Are you happy?" I couldn't contain myself and said, "Yes, I am happy. Very happy." Then she said, "Then give us candy!" All the girls chimed in, "Yeah! Give us candy! Candy!" and giggled away once more.
Oh, I love my life...
Now let's talk about my middle schools. I have 2 of them: Higashi 東 and Toyama 戸山. Higashi middle school is my "base school", so it's where I go if I'm done with my elementary schools and the workday is still not yet over. Out of all the schools I visit, I go to Higashi the most often and for the longest amount of time. It's not a particularly large school, but they are constructing a new larger building to comply with new earthquake code in the midst of the Great Eastern Japanese Earthquake. Toyama middle school is in the southern part of Aomori and feels larger than Higashi middle school, just because there are a lot of extra rooms they don't use.
Middle schools here in Japan feel very different from middle schools in America. First of all, the teacher/student operations are opposite of those in the US. Here, the teachers all rotate among the classrooms while the students stay together in the same classroom with the same classmates. When the kids get older, the classes still stay together (usually along with the same homeroom teacher) for their entire stay at the school, so the students and homeroom teacher are all very familiar with each other by the time they're finished.
Also, the middle schools have 3 grades instead of 2, and the high schools also have 3 years instead of 4. However, remember that education is only mandatory until the end of middle school, so high school is entirely optional (although the vast majority of student do continue to high school). The 3 year middle school system feels very strange compared to the US. Before, middle school was the awkward transitional period between being a child and being an adolescent. In Japan, since the age gap is larger, there is a huge spectrum of behaviors all contained within a single school.
On the one hand, the 7th graders all feel like children. They are physically tiny, sometimes loud and rowdy, and are very likely to participate in more physical-type activities. They are also more prone to react openly and truthfully, which can sometimes be rude. Many of them are still unafraid to stare at something strange and unfamiliar, which in this case is me.
On the other hand, the 9th graders feel like young adults already. They are able to read the atmosphere of the situation and hide their curiosity as best they can. I still get stared at quite a bit (which I confirm with my excellent peripheral vision), but they turn away and pretend like they weren't looking when I make eye contact. They are mostly shy when they are alone, but gather great courage in large numbers. They can get easily embarrassed or excited when put on the spot.
That being said, I have to admit that I like the 3rd graders the most. They first graders don't know much English and can be rowdy and rude at times. They're the most energetic, so they're the hardest to keep up with on a slow day. The 3rd graders have the best English ability and are the most willing to interact with me outside of the classroom as well. They want to get along, and the smaller age gap lets them treat me like more of a peer instead of an authority figure. Most of the guys are pretty tall and better behaved at this point, and the girls are more mature and open to interaction.
And did I mention the third year girls are cute? If I didn't, damn they are cute! Especially the sports girls! I went to the gym one day during lunch break at Toyoma Middle School, and a few of the girls were playing volleyball. While they were knocking it around, it rolled over to me, so I picked it up and knocked it back. They took this as a cue to start playing volleyball with me. Some of the other girls who were walking around the hallways saw, and they came running over to join in. Pretty soon, we had a good 8 person circle knocking around a volleyball. The one girl in the volleyball club (named Reina) taught me how to hit a volleyball correctly, and then refused to pass the ball to anyone but me. We all had fun, and they were particularly impressed with my ability to stop a stray ball with my legs (Thank you Hapkido! Head kicks forever!).
At the end, they all crowded around me and bombarded me with rapid fire self-introductions. I staggered backwards overwhelmed, and the girls giggled happily at each other. One of them asked me, "Are you happy?" I couldn't contain myself and said, "Yes, I am happy. Very happy." Then she said, "Then give us candy!" All the girls chimed in, "Yeah! Give us candy! Candy!" and giggled away once more.
Oh, I love my life...
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Jiko Shoukai
Hello everyone!
This week, I FINALLY finished introducing myself to all of my students. I've been doing this for about 3 weeks now, and I'm all but sick of students staring at me like I'm some sort of alien when I walk into a new classroom. I'm pretty tired of students giving me a double take when I say "Hello" instead of "konnichi wa" in the hallways. Thank god it's over...
For my introductions, I usually first had students get into groups for "question time", where they created a few questions to ask me, their mysterious new ALT. After question time ended, the students read me their questions and I wrote them all on the board. I made sure to tell them that any question is valid and acceptable, so I got a few strange, unrelated, rhetorical, or raunchy questions.
Lots of people wanted to know if I have a girlfriend. I think they were assuming that I don't have one, and they wanted to torment their new teacher's loneliness by prodding me with a sharp stick. Much to their surprise, I showed them a picture of my girlfriend, and they were astonished to see that she is both very cute and not Asian. My teachers warned me about students who ask about sex, but I was surprisingly only asked once. They formulated the question as "Do you play sex?" I answered by explaining that the verb "play" is generally used for things like games or sports. This diverted their attention enough for me to escape the question, but now they go around referring to sex as a sport.
After all the questions were written down on the board, I commenced my self introduction in the order I prepared. I showed them my family, my hometown, famous things in California, were I went to school, my previous job, my hobbies, my interests, and the food I like. For famous things in California, I showed pictures of Hollywood and Arnold Schwarzenegger in both "Terminator" and "Governator" modes. I also showed them some of my many hobbies. My favorite part was when I told them, "I like to cook," and then backtracked to the picture of kangaroos. I loved the way their facial expressions shifted from admiration to condemnation while I explained that kangaroos are actually edible and quite tasty.
The reactions of the classes varied wildly. Some of the classes were dead silent even when I asked them questions, while others erupted in chaos as the slightest cue. I actually had way more fun in the chaotic classes. The Japanese teachers hate these classes because the students like to misbehave and don't respect their teachers, but handling them is really not that difficult. One of the classes ended up rushing the chalkboard and sitting on the floor in the front of the chalkboard instead of staying back in their seats, but this actually made it a lot easier to show them pictures and keep their attention. Some of the students tried to mock me by repeating my words, but I encouraged them to continue and turned them into the "pronunciation leaders" because they would repeat key words without fail. The rest of the class had a blast, and the infamously misbehaving students who turned into class leaders came up to me after class desperately wanting handshakes (their ringleader wasn't satisfied with just one and wanted another). Their constant attempts at mockery made their pronunciation truly admirable, which I made sure the other students knew was something I respected.
After some of the more advanced classes (and by that, I mean less incompetent classes), the students wrote short summaries about me, and some even wrote me short self-introductions. Some of these were extremely entertaining, so give them a read below!
That's all for now! Thanks for reading, and see you next time!
This week, I FINALLY finished introducing myself to all of my students. I've been doing this for about 3 weeks now, and I'm all but sick of students staring at me like I'm some sort of alien when I walk into a new classroom. I'm pretty tired of students giving me a double take when I say "Hello" instead of "konnichi wa" in the hallways. Thank god it's over...
For my introductions, I usually first had students get into groups for "question time", where they created a few questions to ask me, their mysterious new ALT. After question time ended, the students read me their questions and I wrote them all on the board. I made sure to tell them that any question is valid and acceptable, so I got a few strange, unrelated, rhetorical, or raunchy questions.
Lots of people wanted to know if I have a girlfriend. I think they were assuming that I don't have one, and they wanted to torment their new teacher's loneliness by prodding me with a sharp stick. Much to their surprise, I showed them a picture of my girlfriend, and they were astonished to see that she is both very cute and not Asian. My teachers warned me about students who ask about sex, but I was surprisingly only asked once. They formulated the question as "Do you play sex?" I answered by explaining that the verb "play" is generally used for things like games or sports. This diverted their attention enough for me to escape the question, but now they go around referring to sex as a sport.
After all the questions were written down on the board, I commenced my self introduction in the order I prepared. I showed them my family, my hometown, famous things in California, were I went to school, my previous job, my hobbies, my interests, and the food I like. For famous things in California, I showed pictures of Hollywood and Arnold Schwarzenegger in both "Terminator" and "Governator" modes. I also showed them some of my many hobbies. My favorite part was when I told them, "I like to cook," and then backtracked to the picture of kangaroos. I loved the way their facial expressions shifted from admiration to condemnation while I explained that kangaroos are actually edible and quite tasty.
The reactions of the classes varied wildly. Some of the classes were dead silent even when I asked them questions, while others erupted in chaos as the slightest cue. I actually had way more fun in the chaotic classes. The Japanese teachers hate these classes because the students like to misbehave and don't respect their teachers, but handling them is really not that difficult. One of the classes ended up rushing the chalkboard and sitting on the floor in the front of the chalkboard instead of staying back in their seats, but this actually made it a lot easier to show them pictures and keep their attention. Some of the students tried to mock me by repeating my words, but I encouraged them to continue and turned them into the "pronunciation leaders" because they would repeat key words without fail. The rest of the class had a blast, and the infamously misbehaving students who turned into class leaders came up to me after class desperately wanting handshakes (their ringleader wasn't satisfied with just one and wanted another). Their constant attempts at mockery made their pronunciation truly admirable, which I made sure the other students knew was something I respected.
After some of the more advanced classes (and by that, I mean less incompetent classes), the students wrote short summaries about me, and some even wrote me short self-introductions. Some of these were extremely entertaining, so give them a read below!
 |
| Nice try, but not good enough! |
 |
| Well thanks... |
 |
| After I showed the picture of my bus crash... |
 |
| I think he's talking about my family. |
Monday, September 10, 2012
Playing with our Food
I was eating lunch with some of my first year students, they started drawing on their bread with their iron-infused chocolate paste spread. It was so cute I couldn't help but take a picture.
I felt like drawing something of my own:
I felt like drawing something of my own:
 |
| "Not the face!! Anything but the face!!" |
Anyways, back to work. See you next time!
Basketball with the Students
Hello again everyone!
After my first full week of teaching classes at my base school, Higashi Middle School, all of the students now know me. I took this as my cue to start participating in after school activities with the kids. What this means is that I wandered my way over to the gym after classes ended on Friday.
There, I found a few of the boys casually shooting hoops. They saw me and excitedly greeted me, so I headed over and picked up a ball. Those of you who've known me for a while know that I'm pretty terrible at basketball. After an uncountable number of failed dribbles, rim shots, and even more air balls, those few boys understood how bad I was.
Apparently, those few boys were just the early birds, as the gym began to fill up with more people. More and more students came in to play basketball, and the girls group showed up also. The gym was split in half as the volleyball club came in also. After a while, the gym was filled with more than 40 kids.
At this point, I already had enough warm up time to get reacquainted with basketball, as I had not played in months to maybe years. I managed to get a few lucky shots and mostly avoided missing the rim altogether. I was still shooting with the boys, when one of the math teachers walked in. I made a few impressive but lucky shots, and she walked away saying "sugoi!" (which means "amazing!" for those who don't speak Japanese) before I started missing all my shots again. Note to self: prove to her that I'm actually not good at basketball.
After I was bored shooting with the boys (who don't bother speaking English and weren't impressed), I headed over to the girls' side to see what was going on. A group of 4-5 girls was loitering around the 3 point line, so I joined them and started chatting a little bit. One of the girls took a rather wild 3-point shot, but it when in. I shouted, "sugoi!"
One of the other girls told me it was my turn, and I warned them that I suck at basketball. They said to just try anyways, so I took a shot from the same spot. It went it, and they made a ruckus. I told them it was just luck, so they told me to shoot again. So, I shrugged and did. It went it again. They made an even bigger ruckus. I turned to them and insisted that it really just was a coincidence. They were skeptical, and told me to take another shot. I assured them it would miss this time and took the shot. It went in again. At this point, the previous two ruckuses (rucki?) turned the attention of the entire basketball half of the gym to me, so the crowd went up in a frenzy. Trying to convince them of my lack of ability wouldn't have done me a single favor at this point, so I just collapsed onto the ground with my face in my hands. As I crawled back up speechlessly, they told me to take one more shot. Exasperated, I did, and it finally missed. Unfortunately, it only missed by a hair, so the girls yelled "oshii!!" (which means "so close!!"). I told them, "I'm done here. I'm going home," and left the gym.
Now, I have an entire army of basketball girls, who knows how many volleyball kids, and one teacher who think I'm amazing at basketball, but I'm just too humble to admit it. God help me...
After my first full week of teaching classes at my base school, Higashi Middle School, all of the students now know me. I took this as my cue to start participating in after school activities with the kids. What this means is that I wandered my way over to the gym after classes ended on Friday.
There, I found a few of the boys casually shooting hoops. They saw me and excitedly greeted me, so I headed over and picked up a ball. Those of you who've known me for a while know that I'm pretty terrible at basketball. After an uncountable number of failed dribbles, rim shots, and even more air balls, those few boys understood how bad I was.
Apparently, those few boys were just the early birds, as the gym began to fill up with more people. More and more students came in to play basketball, and the girls group showed up also. The gym was split in half as the volleyball club came in also. After a while, the gym was filled with more than 40 kids.
At this point, I already had enough warm up time to get reacquainted with basketball, as I had not played in months to maybe years. I managed to get a few lucky shots and mostly avoided missing the rim altogether. I was still shooting with the boys, when one of the math teachers walked in. I made a few impressive but lucky shots, and she walked away saying "sugoi!" (which means "amazing!" for those who don't speak Japanese) before I started missing all my shots again. Note to self: prove to her that I'm actually not good at basketball.
After I was bored shooting with the boys (who don't bother speaking English and weren't impressed), I headed over to the girls' side to see what was going on. A group of 4-5 girls was loitering around the 3 point line, so I joined them and started chatting a little bit. One of the girls took a rather wild 3-point shot, but it when in. I shouted, "sugoi!"
One of the other girls told me it was my turn, and I warned them that I suck at basketball. They said to just try anyways, so I took a shot from the same spot. It went it, and they made a ruckus. I told them it was just luck, so they told me to shoot again. So, I shrugged and did. It went it again. They made an even bigger ruckus. I turned to them and insisted that it really just was a coincidence. They were skeptical, and told me to take another shot. I assured them it would miss this time and took the shot. It went in again. At this point, the previous two ruckuses (rucki?) turned the attention of the entire basketball half of the gym to me, so the crowd went up in a frenzy. Trying to convince them of my lack of ability wouldn't have done me a single favor at this point, so I just collapsed onto the ground with my face in my hands. As I crawled back up speechlessly, they told me to take one more shot. Exasperated, I did, and it finally missed. Unfortunately, it only missed by a hair, so the girls yelled "oshii!!" (which means "so close!!"). I told them, "I'm done here. I'm going home," and left the gym.
Now, I have an entire army of basketball girls, who knows how many volleyball kids, and one teacher who think I'm amazing at basketball, but I'm just too humble to admit it. God help me...
Friday, September 7, 2012
Giving Candy to Students
Whenever I teach at a class I've never been to before, I always start with a self introduction. I try to keep students interested by first making them formulate questions in a group and then asking me. Then, I use pictures, gestures, pictionary, and a little bit of bribery during my introduction to keep students interested and involved. What I mean by bribery is this: for each class, I give a Warhead to the kid who correctly guesses my age. It's actually pretty difficult, since they all think I am much older than I really am. For those of you who don't know what a Warhead is, read this or just look at this picture:
After some of the classes, the more unscrupulous students came up and asked me for the same candy I gave to that one student. Some did it in English, some in Japanese, and one infamous girl did it half and half (amekko please!). I, of course, refused all of them because I didn't want to become the school-wide candy man from a foreign land. Instead, I told them that if they came to the teachers' room and had a chat with me in English, I'd give them one. I was hoping that this would encourage more kids to 1) try to use English more often, and 2) befriend me. Many of the students left with discouraged looks, so I didn't think anybody would actually do it.
In one of the third year classes, however, two girls seemed a little encouraged by this. It turns out that - as I heard them mutter to each other - they are part of the team that cleans the teacher's room after classes are over. Still, even though they had this opportunity, I didn't think they'd muster the courage to actually come and try to talk to me, in English nonetheless. By the time they actually got to the teachers room during cleaning time, I'd pretty much entirely forgotten them. The team (of 6-8 students) finished cleaning the teachers' room and they all began dismissing themselves one by one in loud voices like all Japanese students do. (On a side note, when students come to the teachers' room for any reason, they always knock and announce their year, class, name, and purpose for being there. They do this even if they go there every day for the same expected reason or if they are repeatedly ignored. When they leave, they loudly announce their departure as well.)
These two girls, however, did not dismiss themselves and leave. Much to my surprise, they walked over towards my desk, paused a slight distance away to reconfirm that they were in "English mode", and then finally approached me. They already announced their purpose when they came into the room to clean, so they just kept riding the same "cleaning train" to get what they wanted without needing to announce themselves again. I had no idea what to do, but I happened to be reading an article about the Democratic National Convention. I pointed at a picture of Bill Clinton and asked, "Do you know who this is?" One of them muttered in Japanese, "He's a former president, isn't he?" I then showed them a picture of Obama and asked if they knew him. They did. I asked them is they knew what was coming up in November. When they said no, I told them about the presidential election, and translated "election" into Japanese. They basked in the significance of the occasion, but after that, they had to go back to their classroom to finish up the rest of the school activities for the day (and I still have no idea why they have to stay so long after classes end). They looked a little disappointed as they were leaving, but I tossed them each a Warhead on the way out. I figured they gave a good effort and deserved it.
At the end of school (maybe an hour or 2 later), I was in the hallway reading a poster. The same 2 girls were heading home, and when they saw me, they stopped for a second and discussed something with each other (probably checking their grammar use). I honestly didn't remember their names at this point, so I just kept reading the poster by myself. They walked up and said hi, and I asked them what their names were. They told they were Miu (the one usually spearheading the English conversation operations) and Fumika (her moral support and partner in crime). That's when Miu slowly announced her practiced line: "You are a good teacher." I stood there silently for a few seconds pondering the meaning behind her words, and then bended over laughing for a while. I wasn't sure what spawned a statement like that, but it surely must have been because of the candy. Not wanting to have my reasoning confirmed, I asked if they were going home and said goodbye. I didn't expect to talk to these girls outside of the classroom again.
The next day, I went to the same school again (which is Higashi Middle School), but only taught first and second years. While wandering around the halls in my free time, I came across Miu and Fumika again in their classroom. They said hi while I botched their names (I thought they were Yui and Funami), and I asked if they tried the candy already. In Japanese, they said it was very sour and awesome. They seemed less interested, so I just said goodbye and went back to the teachers' room to keep reading news and writing future blog posts. Later on, the girls came back to clean the teachers' room, but I just let them do their thing and be done with it. They got their interesting candy from America already, so they no longer had a reason to interact with me. As the kids were dismissing themselves, the two girls used their "cleaning ticket" to come over to my desk AGAIN! I exclaimed loudly in Japanese, "You're here to get candy TODAY, too??" They laughed and said no. They just wanted to say goodbye before going home.
Ahhh my school life is getting sweeter. (T^T)
*UPDATE* 9/28/12
The "amekko please" girl finally got her candy! I taught the class she's in again, and I started calling her "Amekko please-chan". She told me her name is Aya, but I still like calling her Amekko-chan. (For those who don't know, "amekko" is short for "ame ikko", which means "one candy") She also has a friend who I call "Sode-chan" (or "sleeves") because she likes to roll up her sleeves and the head teacher always calls her out for it. She seems to get a real kick out of her nickname, and she goes around telling all her friends about it. Sode-chan seems to like her nickname a lot more than Amekko-chan.
I also ate lunch with this class, and Amekko-chan kept staring at me, so I made some funny faces at her. To be honest, I was just being silly because she was kinda creeping me out with the staring. You know, the kind where you notice someone is staring at you and look back at them, but they don't stop staring. Awkward... Anyways, after school, I was going to wash all the chalk dust off my hands at the big community trough-looking sink. All the kids were cleaning the school, and Amekko-chan happened to be cleaning the sink. She called me over and asked if I remembered her name. I said, "Yes, you're Amekko-chan." She replied loudly with, "違う!" (or "chigau!", which means "that's wrong!") and made a slightly pouty face (which was adorable, by the way). I told her I was kidding and said,"You're Aya." She was surprised and said, "覚えてる。" (or oboeteru, short for "you remember").
Then, I asked if she still wanted a candy, since it had been more than 3 weeks since she asked me for one. She looked excited and said yes. I proposed that she introduce herself in English. She tried her best, but could only spit out her name. So, I ended up pretty much interviewing her on age, hobbies, family, interests, and pets. It turns out that she's a single child with a single parent mother, which surprised me because she is an energetic and cheerful person. As I ran out of questions to ask her, I felt like she did enough and gave her a Warhead. The girls around her looked at her jealously, but I told them that they should come and get some too. "I have too many candies! Please come talk to me," I said. I doubt they will, but I'm sure there will be other opportunities.
After some of the classes, the more unscrupulous students came up and asked me for the same candy I gave to that one student. Some did it in English, some in Japanese, and one infamous girl did it half and half (amekko please!). I, of course, refused all of them because I didn't want to become the school-wide candy man from a foreign land. Instead, I told them that if they came to the teachers' room and had a chat with me in English, I'd give them one. I was hoping that this would encourage more kids to 1) try to use English more often, and 2) befriend me. Many of the students left with discouraged looks, so I didn't think anybody would actually do it.
In one of the third year classes, however, two girls seemed a little encouraged by this. It turns out that - as I heard them mutter to each other - they are part of the team that cleans the teacher's room after classes are over. Still, even though they had this opportunity, I didn't think they'd muster the courage to actually come and try to talk to me, in English nonetheless. By the time they actually got to the teachers room during cleaning time, I'd pretty much entirely forgotten them. The team (of 6-8 students) finished cleaning the teachers' room and they all began dismissing themselves one by one in loud voices like all Japanese students do. (On a side note, when students come to the teachers' room for any reason, they always knock and announce their year, class, name, and purpose for being there. They do this even if they go there every day for the same expected reason or if they are repeatedly ignored. When they leave, they loudly announce their departure as well.)
These two girls, however, did not dismiss themselves and leave. Much to my surprise, they walked over towards my desk, paused a slight distance away to reconfirm that they were in "English mode", and then finally approached me. They already announced their purpose when they came into the room to clean, so they just kept riding the same "cleaning train" to get what they wanted without needing to announce themselves again. I had no idea what to do, but I happened to be reading an article about the Democratic National Convention. I pointed at a picture of Bill Clinton and asked, "Do you know who this is?" One of them muttered in Japanese, "He's a former president, isn't he?" I then showed them a picture of Obama and asked if they knew him. They did. I asked them is they knew what was coming up in November. When they said no, I told them about the presidential election, and translated "election" into Japanese. They basked in the significance of the occasion, but after that, they had to go back to their classroom to finish up the rest of the school activities for the day (and I still have no idea why they have to stay so long after classes end). They looked a little disappointed as they were leaving, but I tossed them each a Warhead on the way out. I figured they gave a good effort and deserved it.
At the end of school (maybe an hour or 2 later), I was in the hallway reading a poster. The same 2 girls were heading home, and when they saw me, they stopped for a second and discussed something with each other (probably checking their grammar use). I honestly didn't remember their names at this point, so I just kept reading the poster by myself. They walked up and said hi, and I asked them what their names were. They told they were Miu (the one usually spearheading the English conversation operations) and Fumika (her moral support and partner in crime). That's when Miu slowly announced her practiced line: "You are a good teacher." I stood there silently for a few seconds pondering the meaning behind her words, and then bended over laughing for a while. I wasn't sure what spawned a statement like that, but it surely must have been because of the candy. Not wanting to have my reasoning confirmed, I asked if they were going home and said goodbye. I didn't expect to talk to these girls outside of the classroom again.
The next day, I went to the same school again (which is Higashi Middle School), but only taught first and second years. While wandering around the halls in my free time, I came across Miu and Fumika again in their classroom. They said hi while I botched their names (I thought they were Yui and Funami), and I asked if they tried the candy already. In Japanese, they said it was very sour and awesome. They seemed less interested, so I just said goodbye and went back to the teachers' room to keep reading news and writing future blog posts. Later on, the girls came back to clean the teachers' room, but I just let them do their thing and be done with it. They got their interesting candy from America already, so they no longer had a reason to interact with me. As the kids were dismissing themselves, the two girls used their "cleaning ticket" to come over to my desk AGAIN! I exclaimed loudly in Japanese, "You're here to get candy TODAY, too??" They laughed and said no. They just wanted to say goodbye before going home.
Ahhh my school life is getting sweeter. (T^T)
*UPDATE* 9/28/12
The "amekko please" girl finally got her candy! I taught the class she's in again, and I started calling her "Amekko please-chan". She told me her name is Aya, but I still like calling her Amekko-chan. (For those who don't know, "amekko" is short for "ame ikko", which means "one candy") She also has a friend who I call "Sode-chan" (or "sleeves") because she likes to roll up her sleeves and the head teacher always calls her out for it. She seems to get a real kick out of her nickname, and she goes around telling all her friends about it. Sode-chan seems to like her nickname a lot more than Amekko-chan.
I also ate lunch with this class, and Amekko-chan kept staring at me, so I made some funny faces at her. To be honest, I was just being silly because she was kinda creeping me out with the staring. You know, the kind where you notice someone is staring at you and look back at them, but they don't stop staring. Awkward... Anyways, after school, I was going to wash all the chalk dust off my hands at the big community trough-looking sink. All the kids were cleaning the school, and Amekko-chan happened to be cleaning the sink. She called me over and asked if I remembered her name. I said, "Yes, you're Amekko-chan." She replied loudly with, "違う!" (or "chigau!", which means "that's wrong!") and made a slightly pouty face (which was adorable, by the way). I told her I was kidding and said,"You're Aya." She was surprised and said, "覚えてる。" (or oboeteru, short for "you remember").
Then, I asked if she still wanted a candy, since it had been more than 3 weeks since she asked me for one. She looked excited and said yes. I proposed that she introduce herself in English. She tried her best, but could only spit out her name. So, I ended up pretty much interviewing her on age, hobbies, family, interests, and pets. It turns out that she's a single child with a single parent mother, which surprised me because she is an energetic and cheerful person. As I ran out of questions to ask her, I felt like she did enough and gave her a Warhead. The girls around her looked at her jealously, but I told them that they should come and get some too. "I have too many candies! Please come talk to me," I said. I doubt they will, but I'm sure there will be other opportunities.
I'm in the School Newsletter!
I looked at the school newsletter and check out what I found!
So that's why they took my picture!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Japanese School Lunch
Hi everyone! It's a little bit random, but let's get hungry today and talk about school lunches.
School lunch is a pretty big deal in Japan. Apparently, becoming a "food specialist" in the education system is a prestigious position with a lot of competition. School lunches must constrain to a rigorous set of requirements, and every meal is listed for nutritional value and calorie content. Menus are announced every day over the intercom during lunch, which seems redundant because they are usually already eating by the time the intercom turns on.
Like school lunches in America (at least until the end of elementary school), school lunches contain a good balance of starches, protein, vegetables, and sometimes fruits. They are a little heavy on the starch side, which you can witness with the size of the bread or bowl of rice they serve. I wish there were fruits more often, but they are rare.
Unlike America, school lunches are served by the students. Before lunchtime everyday, the students don their food handling wear, complete with white gown, clear plastic gloves, and white hair cap. I like to call it "scrubbing up". The 5-8 kids in charge of serving food for the day then scoop food into bowls or onto plates and hand them to the other students, who queue with trays buffet-style. Understand that even the elementary schoolers serve their own lunches.
Also unlike America, the school lunches are BIG. Here at my middle school, I get pretty full every day. The menu shows that lunches are 700-1000 calories depending on the day, and since the teachers serve themselves, I think I tend to get more than I am supposed to. Despite serving up crap-tons of food, we don't have much time to eat it. Fourth period ends at 12:25, signaling the start of lunch, but I usually sit down with my lunch around 12:35. By the time the clock hits 13:00, everyone is expected to have finished eating AND cleaning up the lunch serving area. On one of my first few days here, I sat down and began reading an interesting article about Mother Teresa while slowly munching away at my food. After a while, I checked my watch, and it read just before 13:00. I turned and saw a group of about 10 teachers standing next to the food serving area and staring at me, waiting to clean up. I leaped out of my chair and put my dishes away among the teachers while they muttered condescendingly at me in Japanese I didn't understand. That's not going to happen again.
It's even worse for the students, because while I can go to the teachers room and serve myself a hot tray of food immediately, the kids need to set up, grab the food from the food room, and serve to all the kids in class before anyone can even take a bite. By the time everyone says "itadakimasu" and the feasting begins, it's usually already 12:45. Basically, lunch time is only about 10 minutes! I'm a big eater, but these kids can pack away food so much faster than I can, even if they cant eat more.
Living and working in Japan means learning to scarf down food as fast as you can, even when it's not in school. The lunch breaks are short, there's always a lot of food, and restaurants don't provide take out boxes. In this country, the CUSTOMER provides the take out boxes, not the restaurant. You can buy a stack of disposable plastic take-out style box at the 100-yen shop, but you might as well just buy a reusable plastic container instead. And who wants to lug around a container every time they go to a restaurant?
Anyways, that's what lunchtime is like here in Japan. See you next time!
School lunch is a pretty big deal in Japan. Apparently, becoming a "food specialist" in the education system is a prestigious position with a lot of competition. School lunches must constrain to a rigorous set of requirements, and every meal is listed for nutritional value and calorie content. Menus are announced every day over the intercom during lunch, which seems redundant because they are usually already eating by the time the intercom turns on.
Like school lunches in America (at least until the end of elementary school), school lunches contain a good balance of starches, protein, vegetables, and sometimes fruits. They are a little heavy on the starch side, which you can witness with the size of the bread or bowl of rice they serve. I wish there were fruits more often, but they are rare.
Unlike America, school lunches are served by the students. Before lunchtime everyday, the students don their food handling wear, complete with white gown, clear plastic gloves, and white hair cap. I like to call it "scrubbing up". The 5-8 kids in charge of serving food for the day then scoop food into bowls or onto plates and hand them to the other students, who queue with trays buffet-style. Understand that even the elementary schoolers serve their own lunches.
Also unlike America, the school lunches are BIG. Here at my middle school, I get pretty full every day. The menu shows that lunches are 700-1000 calories depending on the day, and since the teachers serve themselves, I think I tend to get more than I am supposed to. Despite serving up crap-tons of food, we don't have much time to eat it. Fourth period ends at 12:25, signaling the start of lunch, but I usually sit down with my lunch around 12:35. By the time the clock hits 13:00, everyone is expected to have finished eating AND cleaning up the lunch serving area. On one of my first few days here, I sat down and began reading an interesting article about Mother Teresa while slowly munching away at my food. After a while, I checked my watch, and it read just before 13:00. I turned and saw a group of about 10 teachers standing next to the food serving area and staring at me, waiting to clean up. I leaped out of my chair and put my dishes away among the teachers while they muttered condescendingly at me in Japanese I didn't understand. That's not going to happen again.
It's even worse for the students, because while I can go to the teachers room and serve myself a hot tray of food immediately, the kids need to set up, grab the food from the food room, and serve to all the kids in class before anyone can even take a bite. By the time everyone says "itadakimasu" and the feasting begins, it's usually already 12:45. Basically, lunch time is only about 10 minutes! I'm a big eater, but these kids can pack away food so much faster than I can, even if they cant eat more.
Living and working in Japan means learning to scarf down food as fast as you can, even when it's not in school. The lunch breaks are short, there's always a lot of food, and restaurants don't provide take out boxes. In this country, the CUSTOMER provides the take out boxes, not the restaurant. You can buy a stack of disposable plastic take-out style box at the 100-yen shop, but you might as well just buy a reusable plastic container instead. And who wants to lug around a container every time they go to a restaurant?
Anyways, that's what lunchtime is like here in Japan. See you next time!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Speech Contest
Hi everyone!
In honor of my students who are participating in the speech contest today, I'm going to introduce them to you.
There are participants in both of my middle schools: Higashi 東中 and Toyama 戸山中. At Higashi, there is one first year (Miho), one second year (Miki), and two third years (Koushiro and Mai). At Toyama, there is one first year (Kanon) and one third year (Seina).
All of the participants are surprisingly good. They are required to memorize a short English story anywhere from a minute and a half to well over 4 minutes (depending on the year). They do have the same pronunciation problems as most Japanese people, but to a much lesser extent. They seem to learn very quickly, and whenever I correct a pronunciation or fluency mistake, I don't need to repeat myself often.
Performance skill-wise, Miho from Higashi probably has the best chance to win. She has excellent intonation and connected speech, but has slight trouble with omission of consonants and articles, as well as pronunciation of the letter 'r'. She takes compliments with lots of enthusiasm and excitement, which is very cute to watch. Kousuke from Higashi (who's kind of a brat to the other teachers) is also a very good speaker when it comes to intonation, but he has a particularly stubborn problem with pronouncing 'th' as 'z'. The other 4 students are somewhere slightly behind these 2 forerunners. Miki from Higashi is a little shy and has some problems with pronunciation of vowels and the letter 'l' when followed by a consonant or at the end of a word. She also has trouble with connected speech. However, she learns quickly and has good study skills, so she may well have caught up. Seina from Toyama, who looks strikingly like my devilishly cute cousin from my dad's side, is probably the weakest in the pronunciation section, especially regarding vowels that don't exist in Japanese. However, we've worked on her problems specifically and she has gotten a lot better. She has the longest speech, but somehow managed to be the first one to memorize it all. Mai from Higashi has very decent intonation and connected speech, but has trouble with pronunciation of the "v" and "r" sounds. There are also some issues with major grammar errors in her speech, but that is entirely out of her control because the composition was provided to her (*correction, it turns out she's participating in the "read your own composition" part of the contest, so the errors are the fault of teachers failing to correct her work properly). Finally, Kanon from Toyama is very shy and hardly talks when I work with her. She has a nice clear voice and a very decent grasp of connected speech, but she has a problem with adding stray 'r's into words, like many Japanese people believe native English speakers do. Watch anime and you'll know what I mean.
To help them get better, I've recorded their voices at different stages of their improvement. Then, I made CDs for them (since many surprisingly do not use the internet very much) and told them to listen to their voices when they're practicing at home. They should be able to notice the problems I point out better if they can hear their own voice over and over at cue. The personal tutoring certainly improved their speeches, and I'm really proud of how much they've progressed.
That being said, they are all also surprisingly bad. At English I mean. Yes, they can memorize a long English passage and read it aloud. Yes, they sound very good while they are reading it (given that they've had a week of tutoring from a native speaker with some actual credentials). But, if you even try to have a simple conversation with them in English, they fall deathly silent. Why? It's because they have no idea what I'm saying. That's right: they can read and recite English, but their listening and conversational production are poor. I had to do most of my tutoring in Japanese because they couldn't understand my English.
However, I must admit the problems vary among the students. Kousuke can probably handle conversational English the best out of all of them. Even so, I still can't have a conversation using full sentences with him. Besides Kousuke, I doubt the other students can understand more than a few words I say. Seina, as friendly and fun to talk to as she was, couldn't even understand what I meant by "a lot" or "a little". Remember, she's the one who's a third year and is reciting a story that's about 2 pages long double-spaced.
This is a frustrating problem with the English language learning system in Japan. The problem lies in the fact that classes still have a large emphasis on written translation. For homework, lots of the students have to translate some English sentences into Japanese, or the other way around. I haven't yet seen a class taught entirely in English or one that emphasized creation and use of pure English rather than translated Japanese. This is the underlying problem, and as an ALT, I am here to help fix it.
Good luck to my students who participated! ファイト！一発！
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
My Elementary Schools
Hi again everyone!
Sorry I haven't had the chance to post anything in a while. It's been surprisingly busy around here teaching classes, buying groceries, cooking, going to JET events, and setting aside an hour or more a day to stay in contact with my Honeybunny (that's Kristin Armstrong, for the record). Outside of that, I haven't had much free time to relax, clean my place, or post things on the internet. After a while, my massive fanbase (a.k.a. my sister) began complaining about the lack of movement, so I'll try my best to let you all know what's going down in my life.
So, let's talk about my elementary schools. I have 3 of them: Harabetsu 原別, Toyamanishi 戸山西, and Nonai 野内. I've already had a chance to go to all of them and gotten to know some of the students. If you didn't know, elementary school students don't start studying English until 5th grade, so I don't teach any classes 4th grade or under. Harabetsu and Toyamanishi are rather large elementary schools, with about 5 classes for me to rotate throughout. Nonai is a much smaller school, with only one class per grade. I really like teaching at Nonai because I can actually remember who some of the students are.
Now that you know about my schools, let's talk about the kids. My general conclusion is this: I love 5th graders; I hate 6th graders. I'm really not sure what the reason is, but the difference between 5th graders and 6th graders is vast. The 5th graders get excited about everything. If you show them something about America that they're familiar with, they'll love it. Especially if that is Disneyland. They will lose their shit when you tell them you lived 10 minutes from Disneyland. They also love eating lunch with you and they will do their best to talk to you (but mostly in Japanese). Beware of giving away autographs, though. If one student asks for it and you give it to them, the classroom will erupt into a flurry of notebook and pen grabbing, and then kids will bum rush you to get their share. Their presence will blot out the sun. For a few minutes of my life, the sky was composed entirely of 5th graders.
Fast forward one year later, and you'd think nothing would have changed, but you'd be wrong. The sixth graders don't get very excited about much. If you try to speak to them in English, they'll probably just turn to each other and say わかんない and then give up on listening. They'll start paying attention again if you show them Disneyland or give them candy, but they'll lose attention once you stop. And some of the kids are just obnoxious. They'll talk to their little clique in the middle of class and just won't shut up. You can tell the teacher has given up on them because he/she just tries his/her best to ignore it. Classes lose energy really quickly, and it's hard to get the energy back up. Eating lunch with them is a pain as well. My first day at Harabetsu Elementary School, I was told to eat lunch with a class of sixth graders I hadn't introduced myself to yet. Think about it: I entered an unfamiliar area filled with unfamiliar people who barely speak a lick of my native language, and on top of that I look like a teacher and subsequently an authority figure. That was probably the most awkward lunch I have ever consumed, and I high-tailed it back to the teacher's room as soon as I finished.
I don't go to elementary schools very often. I only go to Harabetsu and Toyamanishi about twice a month, while Nonai only gets me once a month. I'm gonna miss the excitable fifth graders and I hope they remember me when I return, but I'm glad I don't need to see the sixth graders for a while.
Sorry I haven't had the chance to post anything in a while. It's been surprisingly busy around here teaching classes, buying groceries, cooking, going to JET events, and setting aside an hour or more a day to stay in contact with my Honeybunny (that's Kristin Armstrong, for the record). Outside of that, I haven't had much free time to relax, clean my place, or post things on the internet. After a while, my massive fanbase (a.k.a. my sister) began complaining about the lack of movement, so I'll try my best to let you all know what's going down in my life.
So, let's talk about my elementary schools. I have 3 of them: Harabetsu 原別, Toyamanishi 戸山西, and Nonai 野内. I've already had a chance to go to all of them and gotten to know some of the students. If you didn't know, elementary school students don't start studying English until 5th grade, so I don't teach any classes 4th grade or under. Harabetsu and Toyamanishi are rather large elementary schools, with about 5 classes for me to rotate throughout. Nonai is a much smaller school, with only one class per grade. I really like teaching at Nonai because I can actually remember who some of the students are.
Now that you know about my schools, let's talk about the kids. My general conclusion is this: I love 5th graders; I hate 6th graders. I'm really not sure what the reason is, but the difference between 5th graders and 6th graders is vast. The 5th graders get excited about everything. If you show them something about America that they're familiar with, they'll love it. Especially if that is Disneyland. They will lose their shit when you tell them you lived 10 minutes from Disneyland. They also love eating lunch with you and they will do their best to talk to you (but mostly in Japanese). Beware of giving away autographs, though. If one student asks for it and you give it to them, the classroom will erupt into a flurry of notebook and pen grabbing, and then kids will bum rush you to get their share. Their presence will blot out the sun. For a few minutes of my life, the sky was composed entirely of 5th graders.
Fast forward one year later, and you'd think nothing would have changed, but you'd be wrong. The sixth graders don't get very excited about much. If you try to speak to them in English, they'll probably just turn to each other and say わかんない and then give up on listening. They'll start paying attention again if you show them Disneyland or give them candy, but they'll lose attention once you stop. And some of the kids are just obnoxious. They'll talk to their little clique in the middle of class and just won't shut up. You can tell the teacher has given up on them because he/she just tries his/her best to ignore it. Classes lose energy really quickly, and it's hard to get the energy back up. Eating lunch with them is a pain as well. My first day at Harabetsu Elementary School, I was told to eat lunch with a class of sixth graders I hadn't introduced myself to yet. Think about it: I entered an unfamiliar area filled with unfamiliar people who barely speak a lick of my native language, and on top of that I look like a teacher and subsequently an authority figure. That was probably the most awkward lunch I have ever consumed, and I high-tailed it back to the teacher's room as soon as I finished.
I don't go to elementary schools very often. I only go to Harabetsu and Toyamanishi about twice a month, while Nonai only gets me once a month. I'm gonna miss the excitable fifth graders and I hope they remember me when I return, but I'm glad I don't need to see the sixth graders for a while.
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