Treasures at the End of the School Year

It's finally time for the school year to end!

I've spent 2 out of the 3 semesters this school year teaching these students, and I've become much closer to certain groups of them than others. I didn't visit my big elementary schools enough for the kids to know much about me, but the kids at my small elementary school are already very used to my presence. I attended their graduation ceremony and watched them choke back tears. Afterwards, I went to their room to congratulate them and give them all hugs. I lifted some of the more excitable boys up in celebration, and then went around to gently hug the girls. One of the girls wasn't satisfied and demanded that I lift her in the air as well. I have a feeling it'll be easy teaching these kids next year in middle school.

In middle school, I didn't spend much time with the 3rd years. They spent most of the time studying for their high school entrance exams, so I was used mostly for 1st and 2nd years. The first years had teachers that didn't let me do much (for some reason or another), so they are all kinda awkward and nervous around me. They're at that awkward stage in life anyways.

The second years are the kids that have spent the most time with me. I feel a lot closer to them now, and some of them like to talk to me about anime. I always feel comfortable in the second year classes, and we sometimes mess around during P.E. and break time. I joined the girls for badminton on one P.E. session, and I ended up with a certificate for second place in doubles (I played with a girl named Nene, and we destroyed opponents together. I wasn't there for the second session, when the P.E. teacher took my place and lost some games, knocking us down to second =[ ).

At my other middle school, the second years always say hi to me with big smiles when they see me. One of the girls is particularly obsessed with American music, and she excitedly asks me about the songs I like (even though I'm a little behind on the popular stuff). The boys are really energetic in a foolish way, so I participate in their horseplay. I taught some of them the exploding fist bump, and now that's all they want to do. Everyone thinks that one of the boys, named Kirai, looks just like me, so they've nicknamed him Ki-Ryan. One of the kids I like to mess with is a bit of a bully, but in a gentle giant kind of way. He is quite a bit larger than me and has absolutely no English ability, but he seems to like to interacting with me. He sometimes goes around kneeing other boys in the belly. I saw him doing this once, and I trotted over to give him a nice dead-leg roundhouse knee to the thigh. The other boy said, "Ohh, thank you Ryan-sensei! You're a good guy!" Another time, he picked up my bag of candy and pretended to start walking away with it. I chuckled, and he asked if he could really take it. I said, "Sure! Go ahead!" while cracking my knuckles in a fist. He looked back at me with doubt, and I said with a broad smile, "It's been a while since I've had someone to play with!". He paused, slowly put the bag down, and walked out of the room. He turned back around and asked, "When are you coming back next time?" I smiled and said, "Two weeks," and he turned around with a nod. Dawwww you're so adorable.

For the last few days of school, I spent a lot of time with the second years. The final activity was a short speech on something we value the most: our "treasure". I wasn't sure what to use, since there are so many things that I value (hapkido belt, girlfriend, birthday watch, Wheatley keychain light, etc.). I decided to just make it simple, and used my bike for the example speech.

My treasure? Sure... it definitely falls in the price range...

I really enjoyed walking around to each student and helping them with their spelling/grammar while talking about their treasures. Some of the kids came up with some really interesting stuff. Several kids loved their pet tortoises, and one girl even chose her cactus as her treasure. Another boy chose to talk about his "thought", and even had an impressive set of existentialist supportive reasons written down in English. A few kids valued their watches, and I showed them the one I got from my mom for my birthday. One boy valued his Kyokushin Karate brown belt (called an obi), and he recoiled with a surprised "Ooh!" when I whipped my red belt out of my bag (I used it as my prop treasure for the first years earlier that day). One girl really liked an anime folder she got from her brother, and she told me the anime was very interesting. I'm now watching the anime she recommended, and it is indeed quite good!

After they had their speeches written and proofread, they then volunteered to come up to the front and speak. My favorite class had nearly everyone participate (24 out of around 30 people), and the teacher was really impressed. One of the girls originally chose to pass, but I was like, "Whaaaat? Come on, come on!" and waved her up. She called her teacher over to help her while the rest of the class finished their speeches, and she finally mustered the courage to go up at the end. She's a really quiet student, who I've bumped into at the 100-yen shop and tried to talk to before, so it's nice to see my encouragement having some impact. This class is my favorite because they are the most willing to use and improve their English (and the cute girl ratio is way higher than any other class =P).

As second year English classes came to a close, I went back to the teachers' room to wallow in loneliness and think about what will change when they become third years. Suddenly, pancakes started flowing into the teachers' room! I ran over to the home economics room, and there were my second years, making pancakes and sending extras to the teachers! I wanted to cook too, but right when they saw me, they yelled, "Ryan-sensei is here!" The home ec teacher saw me, and told someone to grab a plate and shove it in my hands. Apparently, they were all done cooking and were eating already, so I dug in. It was only one pancake, but it was smothered in all kinds of goodies: strawberries, banana, jam, crushed red bean, and lots of whipped cream! The boys were playing with the left over whipped cream, so I told them to lay some more on me. Then, as a girl scooped the last dollop out of the bowl and verbally wondered what to do with it, I opened my mouth with an "aaaaaaahhh" and she fed it to me. Best final day of classes ever!!

The last two days consisted of tests and ceremonies, so there were no classes held. I took the first day off to go fail my driving test, but I showed up the second day for the ceremonies. The first ceremony was the basic end-of-the-school-year ceremony. The second one was a farewell to the teachers who are transferring to different schools. The tears flowed freely, and even the third years (I though I'd never see them again) showed up to say goodbye.

After that, we had a short meeting to congratulate the departing teachers on their hard work, followed by a special bento lunch prepared by the Washington Hotel. It was massive:

A feast for a job well done. For scale, the textbook on the top left is about 8 inches wide.

Here's the contents, if you're curious.

It took me a while, but I managed to finish it all! Afterwards, I said my "thank you"s and "farewell"s to the leaving teachers, and departed back to my central office. It's finally over, and the schools will never feel quite the same.

Thanks for reading, and see you again!

Hinamatsuri

Hey everybody!

Today, I'd like to talk about Hinamatsuri. Also known as "Doll's Day" or "Girls' Day", Hinamatsuri is a special day celebrated on March 3rd (so you can tell this post is a couple weeks late).

Hinamatsuri has always been traditionally celebrated with the use of dolls. The word "hina" 雛 itself means "doll". In the olden days, paper or straw dolls were made and floated down rivers. It was believed that the dolls could contain bad luck, so floating them down the river was a way to remove bad luck. Since these dolls ended up being snared in fishermen's nets, this practice is no longer continued.

These days, Himanatsuri is widely celebrated through the arrangement of a large doll display. These dolls represent the imperial house, and are placed on a large 7 tiered platform.

Platform to the right, and partially assembled dolls in the foreground.

After a short trip into the nearby shrine to have a ritual prayer performed, we began to dress and ornament the dolls with their respective hats, weapons, and accessories. We then placed each doll in their respective place.

Musicians and Court Ladies

Soldiers and Ministers

I had the honor of re-tying a hat onto one the musicians after somebody else pulled it loose. With the tiny string and the tight quarters, it was like brain surgery. Everyone watched and waited as I tried my best to finish it quickly.

Everyone doing their share.

To be honest, even the old Japanese folk weren't quite sure what went where, but this is how it is supposed to be arranged:

Top Tier: Emperor and Empress
Second Tier: 3 court ladies w/ sake equipment
Third Tier: 5 musicians (3 drummers, a flautist, and a singer)
Fourth Tier: 2 ministers
Fifth Tier: 3 soldiers/samurai
Sixth Tier: furniture
Bottom Tier: lacquered boxes, a palanquin, and an ox-drawn carriage

The completed display.

After completing the display, we listened to some bamboo flute music from the priests at the shrine. I would upload it, but it was pretty grating and out of tune, so I'll spare you.

Finally, we helped prepare some food to match the occasion. Using rice colored pink with food coloring and salmon flakes, we rolled some sushi in the shape of a peach flower. Peach flowers are usually representative for girls, while cherry blossoms represent boys. Some of the other housewives made rolls with hot dogs and cucumbers in the shape of peaches.

Our flower sushi.

Fancy peach-shaped sushi rolls.

We also drank some clam soup, which is also a popular food on Hinamatsuri. It is said that clam shells represent a perfect marriage, because no two shell halves fit together perfectly except the ones from the same clam. After that, we watched as everyone took down the doll display we had just worked hard to put up. Apparently, leaving a display up after Hinamatsuri ends means that the daughter of the house will have a late marriage.

That's all for this time!

Driving in Japan

Hello again,

Now that winter is coming to an end, my first year here in Aomori is nearing completion. Upon this landmark comes the realization that soon, I will not be able to drive an automobile.

Before I came to Japan, I had no idea whether or not I would need a car. It turns out that the Board of Education had decided for me. They forbade us from driving during working hours and highly discouraged car ownership. I later found out that in the past, a JET was killed in a car accident during working hours, and the BOE was forced to pay a lot of money in working insurance because of it. So, of course, the only way to prevent a person from breaking a finger is to cut them all off. That's the logic of the BOE, anyways.

Even though I knew I wouldn't have a car, I still wanted to be able to drive a rental car. One of the great things about Japan is that you don't need to be 25 years old to rent a car like in the States. Budget rental companies are reasonably cheap (as low as $18 for same day pick up/drop off), and it's by far the best way to make a day trip in the local region. Public transportation can get very expensive, especially when traveling far or with a group of people. Trains and buses don't always go where or when we want to, so rental cars are convenient and cost-effective.

If you possess a US driver's license already, you can go to AAA and obtain an International Driving Permit for a small fee of $15. It contains translations for many countries, and is valid for a year after issue. You just need to make sure you keep your original driver's license with it for it to be valid.

International driving permit, but soon to be scrap paper.

The international driving permit is renewable every year. However, the rule is that you must be in your original country for at least 3 consecutive months before you can be issued another one. The JET program will terminate you immediately if you are out of Japan for 60 days of any year, so being in America for 3 months is impossible.

After my international permit expires in the beginning of August, the only way for me to be licensed to drive is if I obtain a Japanese driver's license. For some countries, like Australia and New Zealand, all a person needs to do is fill out some paperwork and take a simple written test, and their driving permission is transferred to the country of Japan. Unfortunately for me, the United States is not one of those countries. I used to be able to drive a 40-foot-long bus with as many as 70 people inside, and yet all I can drive with my license alone is a small single-person non-highway moped.

I've heard several explanations as to why this is. Firstly, the US driver's license system does not operate at the national level. Instead, each state issues different driver's licenses under slightly different driving law. This makes creating an international driving treaty - for the US as an entirety - a gigantic bureaucratic pain in the ass (and Japan is the king of bureaucratic pains in the ass). Secondly, apparently Japanese drivers are not immediately allowed to drive in the US either (thank goodness, since they're wild lead-footed wheel-slingers), so there is a reciprocal resentment between the two countries about this matter. Whatever the explanation, I'm shit out of luck.

For me, I need to make an appointment for a written AND driving test. First, though, I need to get my license translated at the Japanese version of AAA, the Japanese Automobile Federation (JAF). They also collected 3000 yen from me for the service, which literally involved one of their people printing out a page of Japanese and doing "fill in the blank" and "check the box". I also bought an English copy of the rules of the road for 1000 yen. That's right, you must PAY to find out what the road laws are.

A very expensive and useless piece of paper.

After that, I can go to the Japanese DMV (called the Menkyo Center) to take the written test and driving test (for a fee of about 2000 yen + 2050 yen issuing fee if I pass). The driving test here in Japan is nothing like that in America, where you drive on real roads for a few miles. Here, you must methodically go through an empty driving course, performing a routine that you must memorize beforehand. It's not so much a test of real driving skill, but more an examination of your ability to memorize and follow directions to a T (which is very typical of Japanese tests).

That would be great and all, if they provided us with good directions to begin with. Before the driving test, they hand you a sheet of paper, with lines showing your route and areas where you must get up to a certain speed. They fail to mention the formalities of the test, though. They don't tell you that you need to walk around the car and check underneath for children/animals. The don't tell you the exact order in which you must look over your shoulder, turn on your blinker, edge over to the side of the lane, check over your shoulder again, and then turn. They don't tell you when it's okay to back up out of a tight turn, and what is an immediate fail. If you don't know these exactly, you will fail.

Why don't they tell you? Well, on the other side of the driving course (yes, the same driving course the Menkyo Center uses), there is a driving school. If you fail the test, the instructor will advise you to go to driving school, where they charge you 5000 yen per one-hour lesson. At the driving school, they will not teach you how to drive well, but instead instruct you on exactly what procedure you need to perform to pass the driving test. Basically, they are all in cahoots to squeeze as much money out of you as possible. The JAF; the Menkyo Center; the driving school; all of them are in on it, and it stinks. It just reeks of corruption, but it's perfectly legal.

The worst part is, it's not even that bad for us foreigners. Japanese people MUST go through a driving school and then test at the Menkyo Center to get a driver's license. In total, the expenses to get through the process are about 300,000 yen, equivalent to about $3000! How can they charge such an exorbitant amount without challenge or competition? Here's the story...

When a high-ranking police official has done his many years of duty, he generally "retires" into a well-paying position at the top of a driving school. Here, he has connections with the people at the Menkyo Center, and can pretty much pass or fail anyone at will. People who pay their tuition and attend driving school are almost guaranteed to pass. Anyone who tries to fight these people are nearly guaranteed to fail. I've been told of a Japanese teacher who had to take the driving test a whopping 8 times before he finally passed! It seems like he was less than polite to one of the instructors, so they failed him until they didn't feel like failing him anymore.

Meanwhile, since anyone with the money can get a license, Japan has an epidemic of problem drivers. Anyone who's driven or ridden in a car in Japan knows that Japanese drivers are the craziest bastards out there. They park wherever they want, even if they block traffic. They swerve dangerously around stopped buses. They do anything just to pass a few cars, even if it means driving in the median or against opposing traffic. They speed beyond belief.

On the other side of the spectrum are the infamous "paper drivers". These are people who have gone through the process of obtaining their license, but haven't a clue on how to drive on real roads. Because driving schools have prepared them so little for the actual world, they live without a vehicle and in fear of the day they will actually need to drive. My former Japanese language teacher was one of these paper drivers.

For me, things can be somewhat expensive, but it's not nearly as bad as it is for Japanese citizens. Also, it is entirely possible to pass the test in one try, as a fellow teacher did a few years ago. All the JET teachers who have taken the test have compiled their advice and instructions into a single document to help us pass as easily as possible.

Soon, my time will come, and I will keep this blog updated with the details. Thanks for reading, and see you again!

***UPDATE: I went to the driving center today and took the test. After a strangely long and specific inquisition of my previous driving experience and practices of the California DMV, they gave me a short written test. It was in English and only 10 yes/no questions long. Some of the questions were laughably easy, like the one that asked, "Should you [do something] safely?" No...

After scoring a perfect on the written test, I moved on to the driving test. As expected, the course is actually really short once you're driving a car, so I was kinda rushed to get in all my blind-spot checking. Halfway through, the tester told me I had failed, and I'm still not entirely sure why. I used the rest of the time as practice, and then the tester reviewed the things I had done well/poorly. He said I was checking surroundings very well, but that I was driving too fast through the turns. I actually drive comparatively slow (I'm a bus driver for god's sake), so I'm guessing they really want me to crawl through the course (I was already driving below 20 kph for most of the track). In America, we'd call that "obstruction of traffic", but alas this is not America.

The second thing he mentioned was that I wasn't edging to the sides far enough before making my turns. In Japan, they want you to scoot over to scrape the very edge of the lane in the direction you're going to turn. I find this dangerous, but that's apparently what they want. Finally, after he told me I had failed the test, I stopped at a stop sign slightly past the painted line. I was kinda distressed so my concentration slipped a little, but I knew that signaled an automatic fail (whatever, he already failed me anyways). He may have failed me for this reason at a previous red light, but I know for sure that I stopped before the line. My first driving tester back when I was 15 also docked points for stopping past the line when I actually didn't. It seems like, internationally, people don't understand that just because you can't see the line any more doesn't mean you've crossed it. It seems like I will need to stop yards behind the line to make these fools understand...

In the end, I'm frustrated that I need to go back to the driving center to test again. It also seems like there will be some driving school in my near future, although my pride is screaming at me not to. I am far too qualified a driver to be willingly dragged into this bureaucratic bullshit, and it doesn't help to know that I probably have more logged miles and driver training than the person testing me. But, what choice do I have?

***UPDATE AGAIN: I've done it! I finally have my Japanese driver's license!

I went to the driving school and forked over $50 for an hour of behind-the-wheel training. I would say that it helped a lot, but all I really learned is that the testers want me to drive achingly slow on the course. Anybody who has taken the test before could have told me that for free, but nobody did.

Basically, they want me to make turns at walking to jogging speed. If they even feel the slightest centrifugal force while turning, you're going too fast. Imagine if you were turning on a sheet of ice, and that's the speed they want. Also, when braking, they want you to stomp repeatedly (and annoyingly) on the brake and come to a stomach-lurching halt. Originally I was instructed to do this on the written guide provided to me, but I didn't because I thought it was too comically stupid to take seriously. Well, apparently "comically stupid" is the Japan-approved way.

Anyways, I paid a large sum of money for a guy to tell me this and give me some practice (which ended up being only like 40 minutes, since I had no problems with the course obstacles and driving around at crawling speeds get's tiresome after a while). The next day, I showed up at the licensing center, late, soaking wet from biking through a sudden downpour, and without a translator. Despite what people tell you about "leaving a good impression", I passed easily this time, and then waited around for an hour or so before they handed me my new driver's license! Here she is:

Ain't she a beaut?

Yay! Now I can rent cars and drive around as much as I want! That being said, if anyone is taking the foreigner driver's licence test in Aomori anytime soon, don't waste your money on driving school. Send me a message and I'll let you know everything you need to do to pass. Of course, if you have trouble with the actual physical driving part of it, then you're on your own. =P

Graduation

Last Friday, all middle school 3rd year students graduated.

It seems a little strange to have a graduation ceremony right now, since there are still about 3 weeks remaining in the official school year. I asked one of my teachers why the ceremony is so early, and I received a rather grim answer. Apparently, the students have their graduation ceremony almost immediately after they finish taking their high school entrance exams. This way, all students will attend their graduation ceremony a few days BEFORE they receive their acceptances or rejections. This means that all the kids will still have a glimmer of hope during the ceremony, and there won't be anyone depressed over their failure. I later found out that students who didn't manage to get into their schools could take the test again a week later, after some more studying at school. The early graduation ceremony just allows the students to celebrate closure all at the same time, even though students may still go to school after their graduation.

The ceremony itself is much different compared to the graduation ceremonies in America. Firstly, ALL students participate in the ceremony, instead of just the graduating class (school is still in session for everyone else). Secondly, like any other Japanese school ceremony, students and teachers rehearse the ceremony repeatedly. The reason they need to rehearse so much is because, unlike ceremonies in America, the students all perform several songs and many showy displays of organization. All students must stand, sit, and bow together on cue, along with unified chanting and chorus singing. It seems much more like a choreographed show than a graduation, and everyone is a nervous performer with their own role. Even though the students wear their normal school uniforms instead of a cap and gown, there is a tense formality in the atmosphere.

As the ceremony was about to begin, the parents and teachers filed in and took their assigned seats. The first and second year students had already been in their seats for quite some time for the rehearsals beforehand. Next, the graduating class filed in 2-by-2 in boy/girl pairs, amidst music and a long sustained applause. Everyone stood and sang a song (including the teachers, but I stood silently because I didn't know the lyrics), and then the principal took the stage to hand out diplomas. The process was very mechanical and intentional compared to the slaughter-line queuing of American graduation ceremonies. Each student was timed perfectly with the student in front, so there was never a line. As a student's name was called, the previous student would sidestep from the podium while the current student would step forward. Then, as the principal bowed with the diploma in hand, the student receiving their diploma would bow to accept while the student who already received their diploma bowed simultaneously to excuse themselves. It looked very much like a robotic assembly line.

After getting their diplomas, the third year students turned their seats around to face their underclassmen. The second and first years then sang their song of gratitude, which made tears flow from the third years. This was followed by a musical response from the third years, who sang whilst still bawling. These songs were rehearsed, and every student had been forced to practice these songs over and over for the past few weeks. All the students already knew what songs were coming up, and that the musical "conversation" was just an organized performance, and yet they still managed to be emotional moved. I'm not sure what it is about Japanese emotions, but I'm not sure I'd feel it as much if I knew what was coming.

Finally, the third years turned back around and listened to farewell speeches from the principal and PTA president. To finish the ceremony, everyone sang the school song (which I didn't know the lyrics to either... awkward...), and the third years filed out the same way they filed in. While the graduating class left the school for the last time, all the students and teachers lined up in the hallway leading out to give their farewells.

Since I arrived last summer, shortly before the third years began preparing for their exams, I had only seen each of the students a maximum of 2 times. I didn't really know any of them, so I didn't feel very much watching them leave. I'm much closer to the second year students, who will now become third year students and graduate next spring. I'm sure I will be much more sad when that time comes, and may cry like my other teachers.

That's all for Japanese graduation ceremonies! I'm sorry I couldn't post any pictures of the ceremony itself (I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere, and I can't post any pictures because of privacy anyways), but stay tuned for more interesting stuff in the future!

Transferring in the JET Program

This post has been a little while in the making, but it's about time I let you know about a more complicated part of the JET Program: transfers.

Transfers in the JET Program are generally not allowed, except for extenuating certain circumstances. These cases can only be either health reasons or marriage.

I applied for the JET Program in late 2011, along with my friend and roommate at the time. We had no idea whether we would be accepted or not, but we requested to be placed near each other for emotional support, in what would surely by a turbulent experience in a foreign country. A month later, she became my girlfriend, and we helped each other with our interviews the next February.

Flash forward 3 months or so, and we were nervously reading the emails from the JET Program coordinators. To our relief, we both were accepted! To our dismay, we were placed in completely different parts of the country, 400 miles apart.

The long distance relationship was tough. We took every opportunity (3-day weekends and breaks) to go visit each other, but the long hauls on highways buses were exhausting (bullet train tickets are way too expensive for us). We stayed in contact every day over skype, despite a shoddy internet connected on my side, but the time wasted away in front of the computer screen reminded us of how much we'd rather have each others' company. We hated going back to a cold empty home every evening.

So, I talked to my Prefectural Adviser (PA) about getting a transfer. We didn't really care whether she came to me, or I went to her, or we both went to a different place entirely. All we cared about was being together again, because life is too short to be separated by this long distance bullshit.

She and I had discussed marriage a while back, but we saw no rush to put it down on paper until now. To get a transfer, a couple must be married or engaged, with the plan to marry within the next appointment year. With this as our motivation, we both agreed that marriage was to way to go. We told our closest friends and parents, and had them write letters for us to help prove that we were in fact engaged with a plan to marry in the near future.

I was told that the chances of a successful transfer were slim. Transfers are indeed rare, and nobody in the entire prefecture had ever heard of anyone transferring in or out. The process is shrouded and annoying for the sole purpose of discouraging it. Some cynical people even told me, straight to my face, that I didn't have a chance in hell, and that applying for the transfer was a waste of time. I didn't care what they said. We had nothing to lose, so we went ahead and applied. We would either get the transfer, or we wouldn't be staying for another year.

Since transfers are so rare, nobody really knew how to deal with them. The PA's had a lot of trouble figuring out what to do from the higher ups. Our own supervisors in the Board of Education floundered about hoping that they had everything covered. Several miscommunications and rushed corrections later, we finally had all our necessary paperwork in to the governing body, CLAIR.

Then the waiting game began. Nobody could give us a prediction of the result. Nobody could even tell us when the result would arrive. We waited months without word or update.

After a few months, it was time to decide whether to re-contract or not. My girlfriend didn't have to do anything, as applying for a transfer is apparently agreeing to re-contract with a different organization. I had to decide whether to not to stay another year BEFORE the result of the transfer had arrived. We were told we'd have to wait another 2 weeks for a result. After deciding for a while, I threw my chips all in and signed away another year of my life, with my money on her transfer being approved.

A week later, Kristin received a call from her Prefectural Adviser. The transfer was approved! We celebrated over skype that night, and posted the great news over social media. Many people congratulated us, and many others were flabbergasted at the possibility of a transfer even happening. We received the title of "First Successful Transfer in Aomori", and my supervisors began planning for her arrival next year.

Although many of the emotions expressed around me were happy, there was some resentment as well. One of the other JETs became rather annoyed, because he had wanted to apply for a transfer as well, but quit after succumbing to negative pressure. People told him it would be impossible, but our transfer proved that someone was misinformed. Perhaps people shouldn't be making matter-of-fact statements unless they actually know for sure.

I also know of another ALT in the prefecture (who was supposed to be my "big brother" confidant, but abandoned me quickly for the more party-going, alcoholic JETs) who was in the same situation a year before. His transfer never succeeded (although I'm sot sure what circumstances they were in, or whether they even applied), leading his girlfriend to quit working with JET in Kyoto and move up to Aomori. A few months of rough job searching later, she now has a position at a local Eikaiwa (English tutoring institute) with less pay, fewer benefits, and inconvenient hours. Nonetheless, their situation has worked itself out, but I'm sure they would have preferred the opportunity we were granted.

So, for all of those people who helped me through the process, especially my mom, my soon-to-be in-laws, the PAs, and my supervisors, I'd like to express my genuine gratitude. It is only with your great effort and expertize that any of this was possible. For those who discouraged me and tried to make me lose hope, well SCREW YOU TOO!! LOOK AT US NOW!!! WE FREAKIN' DID IT!!!! NOW LEARN TO SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE IF ALL THAT COMES OUT IS FILTH!!!!! I'm not bitter... what are you talking about...

Anyways, that's the story behind it all. I'm greatly looking forward to returning to living with the love of my life for the next year. Thanks for reading! Next time, we get the wheels turning...

Japanese and other Languages

Recently, I've been feeling a lot more international, and I've been recalling my language experiences throughout my life. My first language was Chinese, followed soon after by English. While in school, English took over, and I began hating Chinese school, leading me to quit after 6th grade. In high school, I tried learning Japanese to no avail (my teacher was terrible), so I ended up hating it too.

Because of all my failures, I nearly gave up on becoming bilingual, until I began to watch anime in college. Hearing Japanese spoken naturally and in context, I remembered all the things in high school that I tried to learn, but never could. I decided to give it another try, and enrolled in Japanese language classes at UCSD just for fun. I learned the language effortlessly, passing all my tests with flying colors without preparation. I learned more in 3 months than I learned in 3 years in high school. It became as natural as breathing, and I took a year and a half of classes before I had to shift my focus back to engineering. I attribute my success both to the Japanese professors (they really knew how to teach a language) and to the copious amounts of anime I watched (and my efforts made to avoid reading the English subtitles). Nevertheless, I had such a good experience that I added a Japanese Studies minor to my degree, and took the final few non-language classes needed for it.

Now, I'm in Japan, and I'm also a certified language teacher. My time in Japanese class, the TEFL program, and the classroom had gotten me thinking more about languages and how they work. What are the nuts and bolts of various languages, and how do they vary? We all know that some languages are harder than others, but are some BETTER than other? Is there a perfect language?

English is obviously the most prevalent language in the world. It's regarded as the most universal international language, and anyone that wants to consider doing international business must know some English. But, does English deserve to occupy that throne?

English is a nice spoken language. It has 10 vowel sounds and 25 consonant sounds (depending on the IPA you use, but these are the numbers I prefer), which combined make for nearly endless unique syllables. There are few rules for syllable production, as a syllable can have multiple consonants and vowels in all kinds of orientations. Many unique syllables allows for many unique words. English has fewer letters than sounds, but there are enough of them to form written words that are unique, yet not overly cumbersome.

However, that's pretty much where the benefits end. Since letters and sounds are not directly correlated, there is somewhat of a rift between the written and spoken portions of the language. When reading a new word, we know that it is most likely pronounced a certain way based on pronunciation patterns, but we have no guarantee until we consult a source. The fact that English is molded from a buttload of other languages doesn't help in the pronunciation and spelling department either. English grammar is also comparatively difficult, where placement of different parts of speech is important, and modals dominate the meaning of the sentence. Tenses can also be quite difficult, since many verbs don't follow a common pattern when changed to different tenses.

Japanese grammar is much more simple. The sentence ends in a vowel. The tense of the vowel is only determined by what letters the verb ends in (with very few exceptions). The ending of the verb is also used instead of modals to change the meaning of the sentence, making verbs forms smooth and very easy to learn. Placement of parts of speech doesn't matter much, and the parts of speech are flagged by particles that make them easily recognizable. Japanese has also adapted greatly to international languages, adopting Chinese characters (kanji) and creating a knew alphabet system to distinguish foreign loan words (katakana). Unfortunately that's where the benefits of Japanese end.

In the Japanese language, there are only 5 vowel sounds and 14 consonant sounds (plus 3 somewhat unique ones). This is exasperated by the fact that each syllable can only be either a vowel alone, or a consonant followed by a vowel (with only a few exceptions). This means that syllables are not very diverse. In total, including small /y/ combinations, /ng/ endings, small 'tsu', and excluding a few holes, the Japanese language has 156 possible syllables (I may have counted wrong, but it's definitely close). That's it. You know there are very few syllables when the alphabet isn't written as vowels or consonants, but rather the syllables themselves! Imagine if a single-syllable word like "bridge" or "trash" were written with only a single letter! Preposterous!

We all know that words must be made out of syllables. However, a word with more than 5 or 6 syllables is bulky and awkward, so most words stay under that threshold. For Japanese, this basically means that, after a while, words ran out of unique syllable combinations, and they were forced to share. What's worse is that adjectives generally end in a certain pattern (~i), while verbs must end in a certain pattern depending on formality (masu/~u), leading to even less syllable diversity. Basically, spoken words are not unique in the Japanese language. A certain combination of syllables can mean several different things, and this makes Japanese a very weak spoken language. The written system would be equally problematic, had the Japanese not turned to China for the solution.

The Chinese writing system is essentially a refined form of pictography. Characters were created based on drawings of real objects, and therefore contain their likeness. This means that Chinese words are very unique, being created by an endless variety of base characters. No two paintings are ever the same, right? The same applies to Chinese words.

Kanji characters are these same characters, stolen from the Chinese and some slightly modified. Kanji deals with the problem of word diversity by replacing some Japanese alphabet characters with a Chinese character. Now, two words with the same pronunciation can be differentiated from each other. Of course, this only works in written form (you can't "speak kanji"), so the usefulness of kanji has it's limits.

Kanji is also notoriously difficult to memorize. A kanji character can have different pronunciations depending on the way it is used (part of speech/combination with other kanji/origin of the word), since it is a representation of meaning rather than pronunciation. For example, the character 油 means "oil". By itself, it is pronounced あぶら (abura), and is the same when combined with other Japanese words, such as ごま油 (goma abura - "sesame oil"). However, when used in some situations, it is pronounced ゆ (yu), like ラー油 (raayu - "spicy oil"), 石油 (sekiyu - "petroleum"), or 灯油 (touyu - "kerosene"). I asked the other teachers at school why it's like this, and none of them could give me an explanation. The truth is, I already knew. The reason is that these words are derived from the Chinese pronunciation long ago (more accurately described as "yoh" with rising intonation, but the Japanese are legendary at butchering foreign pronunciation), but there's no way to tell just by looking at the kanji characters. While already quite annoying, this example is actually one of the easiest of the kanji pronunciation anomalies that dominate the language. Some characters have 10 or more different pronunciations!

The strokes in the kanji characters aren't easy to memorize either. Comparing it to art, if the Mona Lisa had a few brush strokes missing or misplaced, it would be a different painting altogether. For this very reason, the literacy rate in China was abysmal until the Communists came and forced education upon the populace, all while simplifying the original writing system.

As much as I can speak English and am capable of teaching it, I'm certainly not an advocate of it. There are too many problems with English to recommend it. Japanese and Chinese have plenty more problems than English. When I realized this, I descended into a language depression, where all languages seemed to be too problem-ridden to be able to connect people universally.

In the last few months, however, I've become much more of an advocate for Korean. I hail from a city with a high Korean immigrant population, and I've even had a Korean girlfriend in high school. How I never bothered to try to learn Korean until now is beyond me (I was a bit of a useless turd back then, which is probably why that girlfriend left me T^T). Korean shares many of the same grammar concepts with Japanese, like use of particles and verb ending modification. Korean has more vowels (8) and consonants (19) than Japanese, and vowels can me modified with semivowels (y/w) in front. Korean characters can be any combination of a vowel with or without a consonant at the front and/or as many as two in the back. This gives them high syllable diversity (not as high as English, but that's overkill anyways), so there isn't a problem with word diversity. The pronunciation and writing systems correlate like in Japanese, so spelling is usually not a problem (some of the consonant combinations get a little tricky, but it's not nearly as bad as English). Essentially, it's the best of both worlds!

The thing about Korean is that it is a relatively new language. In the past, Korea was a vassal state to China, and so they naturally used Chinese characters. After the Japanese came and meddled with that relationship, the Koreans recognized the problems with the Chinese writing system and decided to create their own. Thus was born Hangul, the brainchild of King Sejong of the Joseon Dynasty, in the 15th century. Abandoning pictography in favor of a phonetic system, Hangul provided the poorer, less educated people a way to communicate in writing, and literacy rates soared. The difference between Korean and other languages is that it isn't some ancient beast, that's been slowly evolving and mutating over time despite being detrimental for the society it serves. Korean was conceived and planned for the purpose of simplicity, sensibility, and utility over useless tradition and habit.

I think we can all learn something from the development of Korean, and I'm personally a big fan now. I've been doing some self-study for the past month or so, but I've gotten in contact with a Korean teacher who is willing to teach me in exchange for English lessons. I've been a little concerned about what I will do once I finish the JET Program, but I'm heavily considering giving Korea a turn. Sure, I have a thing for Korean girls, but that's not the reason at all...

Anyways, thanks for reading! I'm sorry this post turned into linguist pornography, but I hope it was interesting and got you thinking a bit more about the world around you and how people manage to communicate! See you next time, when we get moving...

English Speakers in Japan

Hi again everyone,

Today, I will talk about something that is very close to the hearts of all who work in Japan or have traveled/want to travel here: the presence of the English language.

As I mentioned before, education is mandatory until the end of middle school (9 years), but the vast majority of students continue into high school as well (for a total of 12 years). The government recognizes that English is very important for international relations and their export-based economy, so English is a required subject in school from the 5th grade and on. So, you'd expect the English abilities to be reasonably good in the recently-graduated population.

It's very hard to find some real statistics on English-speaking native Japanese people. Wikipedia and other sources estimate that 10-15% of the population are fluent in English, while this chart ranks Japan as number 14 among countries where English is not an official national language:

I, and everyone else who has lived here in Japan, know that these statistics are a farce. Here's why:

Especially where I live in the far north, finding a person who speaks English on the street is nearly impossible. In the service industry, where you'd think English would be more important, English speakers are non-existent as well. Every time I've gone to a bank, store, or restaurant, or called customer service on the phone, nobody has ever been able to speak English. When actors in commercials pretend like they can speak English, their accents are horrible and sometimes unintelligible. Strange, isn't it, how a country where English is required has no English speakers? What's up with that?

First of all, going to school and being taught English are mandatory, but you're not actually required to LEARN anything. In some schools, there is very little motivation to learn, and kids just screw around in class all day. The teachers, helpless to remove the kids from school, have developed a "just pass them along" mentality to get the problem students conveyor belted out of the school system. Basically, as long as you are present in the school for the time you're required to be, there is no way you will flunk out. The same applies to English classes. The kids may be taught English, but there is no guarantee (or requirement) that they learn it.

In other schools that are more stringent and have better kids, it is the teaching style that holds students back from being able to speak English. Here, classes mostly emphasize written grammar and vocabulary, caring almost exclusively about spelling and syntax. Following the traditional Confucian style, teachers talk at the students and scribble on the board, while students sit quietly and stare blankly back. Afterwards, everyone opens the textbook and reads the prepared passage aloud after the teacher, with the teacher translating along the way. Then they read it again. And again. Then they are timed on how fast (not well) they can read it. Then they write a translation in Japanese. This is what classes are like in Japan. This is their extent of English language learning.

Students hardly ever get any conversation practice (despite my efforts to force them into the lesson plans), so while they can read and write at a decent level (my definition of "decent" has dramatically plummeted since arriving here), none can produce English on the spot. I'll ask the simplest of questions, and students will consult with their nearby buddy for half a minute or so before deciding on and answer and choppily spitting it out. This is attributed to lack of urgency in learning conversational English, cast aside in favor of "written test" English.

Pronunciation is also a problem in the classroom. I'm not much of a stickler when my students don't pronounce things perfectly, but the weak pronunciation affects more than just speaking. They haven't heard the sounds of actual English very often, so spoken English is difficult for them to understand. They're not used to hearing the unusual consonants and vowels that don't exist in Japanese, along with connected speech concepts. They get confused when they hear words that end in consonants, and don't understand that the final consonant sound usually disappears unless there is a vowel sound after it (I'll get more into the problems that come with differences between English and Japanese in a different post).

These pronunciation troubles are mainly the fault of their teachers. In my experience, nearly all of the teachers have the same pronunciation problems I mentioned above. They all speak in katakana English (mimicry of foreign words using Japanese syllables), which spreads through the ranks of students like a virus. My girlfriend told me about the teacher she works with, who got frustrated with Siri on her new iPhone because it wouldn't recognize any of her English. Bad pronunciation aside, the teachers can barely even hold a normal conversation in English without lots of stalling and horrid grammar mistakes. Conversationally, my Japanese speaking is far and beyond their English speaking, and I'm only considered to be at a high-intermediate level. I would be a laughingstock if I considered myself capable of teaching Japanese in America.

And here lies the root of the problem: the teaching system. English teachers are hired solely for their English ability. If they can pass a standardized English test, they can become an English teacher. I haven't seen the test itself, but according to their abilities, I'm assuming it isn't that difficult. What's worse is that teaching ability is completely ignored, resulting in the class practices I mentioned earlier. The teachers go to workshops occasionally after they've become teachers, but I've never seen any of it implemented in the classroom. I took the effort of going through the TEFL Program at UCSD Extension before I came to Japan (which I HIGHLY recommend, by the way, even though it is very expensive compared to online courses), and the English teachers here are abominations in the standards of TEFL.

In a nutshell, that's why Japanese people suck at English. And they know it. Lots of Japanese people avoid conversation with foreigners like it's the plague because they're embarrassed about their English. I recently saw a TV commercial where the main actress (portrayed as innocent and normal) expresses strong reluctance to talk to a foreigner, despite the goading of her boss (portrayed as annoying and obnoxious). This is the kind of behavior that is viewed as the norm:

Here's a translation of what they're saying: "What's wrong? Frozen stiff? It's just that there's suddenly a foreigner in front of me, and it's making me nervous. You've got to "LEELAX" (lol) more. This is Amanda, a representative of Premium Outlets. She's a "KOWNECKSHON" of mine, so ask her anything! Erm... I can't speak English. It's all right here *pounds heart*. Right here. (I cannot for the life of me discern what she says next) Why choice Shisui?" And the rest is irrelevant, as the foreigner does her best to speak Japanese naturally, but you get my point. Look at this crap.

Ranting aside, it would be wrong to conclude that ALL Japanese people are terrible at English. I have met several Japanese people who can speak English at a proficient level. Some are the English teachers I work with (although definitely not a majority of them), some have lived in English speaking countries for a while, and others have just studied it for so incredibly long that they're finally decent at it. One of my neighbors and friends, the head of the local Tenrikyou religious branch, speaks excellent English because of his lifetime of study and international experience. If I have any questions about a stubborn Japanese problem, or if I want to learn more Kansai dialect (he is from Osaka), I ask him. I also enjoy practicing my Japanese with his very kind wife, who speaks absolutely no English.

Nevertheless, I am still surprised every time I find someone who can speak English. Most of the time, the conversation slowly turns to Japanese because it's just more convenient and less painful for me that way. But occasionally, I can talk to someone solely in English. Some of them are Japanese people who really want to practice their English. Others are people who are so convinced that I don't speak Japanese that they are only willing to speak in their broken English. While looking over some sandwiches in a Starbucks in Tokyo with some (Caucasian) buddies of mine, one of the worker girls came over to me and suddenly started explaining the contents of each type of sandwich. I totally knew what was in each sandwich already, but I let her finish because she was REALLY cute (and her English was pretty good, which is more important of course... tee hee).

The point I'm trying to get across is that English speakers indeed exist in Japan, but don't get your hopes up. If you plan to travel there and go somewhere other than metropolitan Tokyo or the big tourist spots, DEFINITELY take a crash course in Japanese or get a translation guide. Don't count on your English to get you through a tough situation. Even if it's only a little bit of survival Japanese, it might end up making a big difference. I left my backpack on a train during winter break (in Toyko even), and if my Japanese was any worse, I probably wouldn't have been able to get it back. It's important, so make sure you're prepared to find no English speakers!

That's all for this time! See you next time, when I explain the big differences between Japanese and English and their implications on communication! Sounds like fun, right? RIGHT???