KitKat Challenge (and iced tea)

Greetings KitKat fiends! Here are my latest two conquests, a gift from a friend of mine when she went to Kyoto.



This one is Kyoto tea. It has a strange flavour. Whilst there are definite hints of teabag in there, there was also an unfortunate overtone of something a little odd. It resembled the aftertaste of seaweed.



This little gem is Kobe pudding. It was almost unbearably sweet - not inedible, but best in the bitesized bars that were presented in this box. It was like a cross between creme brulee and white chocolate. A good one to have with a strong mid-morning coffee maybe.



A bonus for you. One of Lipton's (limited edition?) special Christmas iced teas - milk tea and custard flavour. It was like drinking sweet, watery, cold custard, but with a very convincing tea aftertaste. No, I will not be buying it again!

A Gruesome Tail

At the request of my dear old mum I'm writing today to bring you another glorious culinary episode. I was reluctant to write about this one, simply because of the analogies I will have to use. I know that my grandfather sometimes logs on to read my blog you see. However my mum has reassured me that my grandfather is 'a man of the world' and therefore won't be offended by anything I have to say - but apologies in advance anyway, grandad!

Last week the ALTs and some JTEs from my prefecture spent two days on a business trip in Kobe at the Board of Education. On the first day I ate lunch with two Japanese teachers and my ALT friend from the US. On the second day I went for lunch with the two friends I usually hang out with on my days off - the aforementioned American friend (who is crazy about Korean food) and the Kiwi (he just likes food.) We went in search of a place that serves vegetarian friendly food and chanced upon a tiny Korean place not far from the Board of Education. After reassurances that they could accommodate my perculiar tastes we settled down for lunch. So far, so good.

I may have mentioned this before, but my American friend speaks excellent Japanese, so she put the waitress straight when she said the chef would prepare me a squid omelette (because a squid 'isn't really meat'). My food was a sort of potato omelette with chili peppers on top, not too bad! In the meantime, the other two were glancing over the lunch menu, aided primarily by pictures. Whilst Team America opted for Miso Chicken (a fairly safe bet, I thought), Team New Zealand pointed at a picture for the waitress. Underneath, I noticed as she was making a note, it said テイル (te-i-ru)... I sounded out the letters in my head before venturing 'you're ordering oxtail soup?' A quick check with the waitress confirmed this. She scurried off to the kitchen before he could change his mind. Worry seemed to spread over his face, despite reassurances from our friend that oxtail soup is delicious and he had nothing to worry about. The true friend that I am, I too reassured him that all the gruffnuts are thoroughly brushed out of the fur before the tail is added to food. I like to do my bit.

By the way, I regret that I didn't take any pictures. In the words of our ten-foot tall kiwi pal, there 'wasn't enough room to swing a cat' in the place (there was seating for about fifteen people in total I would say), and I get the feeling that we were the only foreigners that had been there in a long time. 'Conspicuous', therefore, doesn't begin to cover it.

When the food arrived after a long time ('probably because they're still cleaning up the tail for you', I suggested), the presentation was fabulous. Each of my friends had a bowl of soup, a bowl of rice, and a selection of smaller dishes with pieces of fish and pickled vegetables. The Miso Chicken was tucked into straight away, with expert precision and culinary appreciation, whilst the Oxtail was met with a degree of hesitation (as I sniggered maturely in the background.) He picked up a chopstick and reluctantly dipped it into the murky liquid of the soup, and when he brought it back up again, something slimey and greyish was attached. 'Is that a..?' I began. He looked up, apparently in confirmation.

It looked like a large bogey.

A piece of skin or fat, no doubt, but it had a terrible aspect of something one would find inside a winter tissue. Bleugh. Back in went the chopstick.

So he picked up the other chopstick and plunged them together into the soup, hoping to find something a bit more edible looking. This time the chopsticks emerged with something much bigger and solid. Something long and cylindrical, greyish in colour, erect and wrinkly on the outside. It took every ounce of self control I had not to either laugh hysterically or vomit onto my own food (I settled for barely-controlled chuckling.) What he had just pulled out was an entire oxtail (which, so you know, looked NOTHING like anything I had ever seen in the Heinz oxtail soup my dad eats). It did not look edible. It looked like an old and diseased penis, one which had been miraculously preserved throughout the stewing process in its erect state.

I will never forget the look on our friend's face as he realised what he now had to eat. He went a shade of grey not dissimilar to the long object he was holding up with his chopsticks. His lips contorted as he struggled not to retch into the bowl. I continued to laugh silently until the tears were rolling down my face.

Unfortunately it doesn't end there. When the waitress / owner / resident mother saw our friend struggling to eat this piece of meat (gnawing at it tentatively as he gripped it with the chopsticks), she came running over to seize the utensils from him. Then, not content to simply show him what to do, she stood over him and used the chopsticks and a spoon in unison to scrape every last piece of meat from the tail into the soup (inside there was a bone, who knew?!) before tipping the rice in with it. Only when she was satisfied that he could manage without her did she walk away.. and stop right in front of me to see me laughing so hard that I couldn't even pick my omelette pieces up with my chopsticks. I was offered a fork, which I politely declined (much to her confusion.)

To his credit, he ate the whole thing and was very brave about it. Despite my unwelcome observations on the appearance of the oxtail and the use of the word 'tail' in contemporary English, he choked down every scrap and did not vomit over himself or us. Kudos to you, my friend.

As we ate our lunch, I laughed until I cried. When I got home, I wrote an email about it to someone and laughed until I cried. Then I went to bed, and on recalling his face drop at the sight of the chopstick bogey, I again laughed until I cried. I've forgotten now how much the oxtail soup even cost, but going on my enjoyment alone I would say it was worth every penny.

Moral of the story? Play it vegetarian. It's the only way.

The Kit Kat Challenge II

After a break (geddit?) I have begun sampling kit-kats again, albeit with some reluctance. For some reason I just can't find any new ones to try. The only ones available are normal, dark chocolate, and salt and caramel kit-kats. A few days ago I was at the train station and happened to chance upon these.


Yes, that's right. Cheese flavoured kit-kats. I tried to tell myself they would be 'cheese cake' flavoured kit-kats, but no. Look at that big lump of European cheese on the front. That, my friends, is exactly what the kit-kat tasted like. Luckily it was a pack of mini ones.


For that reason I didn't feel so guilty about throwing it away after one bite. I was on skype at the time being egged on by someone to try it, not realising that it would have me retching in an hour. For the record, the cheese kit-kat smells like feet.

You have been warned.

Something I said?

Today I gave a lesson to two classes on Bonfire Night, complete with the story of Guy Fawkes. One teacher was prepared for it and had even given the students and information sheet on Guy Fawkes earlier in the week, so the lesson was a complete success. The second class was with a teacher who hadn't really done more than glance over the story I had given him (which was fair enough as I hadn't asked him to.)

When it came to the part of the story where Guy Fawkes was hung, drawn and quartered however, I was in need of a translation. I was describing the process of drawing the victim when I heard a strange sound. I turned around to find the JTE dry-heaving in the corner of the classroom.

Another successful day, then.

A Crap Streamer?

Today is a public holiday in Japan - Culture Day. I did ask my students yesterday what that entailed but neither they nor my JTE could explain it to me. I had a 'special days' lesson with a different class last week where I assigned groups of students a special day to make a small presentation on, but unfortunately none of them did Culture Day. Having said that, though, I'm not sure how accurate their information would have been. The students in charge of Children's Day drew a carp streamer on the board and, with the aide of an electronic dictionary, wrote 'a crap streamer' above it. I had to bite my cheeks really hard as they were doing their presentation.

There are people milling around outside and there seem to be events going on at the university across from where I live, but I've not really been out today apart from walking my friend to the bus stop. You see, last night I met up with two friends for okonomiyaki in Nishinomiya, and afterwards we went for drinks at a small bar that reminded me of a 1950s black and white flick. It was small and clean and there were not many tables for people to sit at; mostly the customers were sat at the bar and talked a lot to the barmen. The seating charge was 300 yen. I'm not used to paying seating charges, but it's fairly standard in Japan and 300 yen is nothing compared to some of the seating charges in Kobe! I had a really good time, as I always do when I go out with these particular friends, because we always laugh a lot. I also like the fact that our meals / drinks together sound like the start of a bad joke - 'a Brit, a Kiwi and a Yank walk into a bar..'

It's true that we're supposed to be sampling the culture out here and seizing as many opportunities as possible, but sometimes you really need gaijin company. Only another gaijin will truly understand what you mean when you say 'I feel homesick', or realise immediately that you have just delivered the punchline to a joke, or give you a straight yes or no answer when you ask a question. And, depending of course on their character (I obviously can't lump all gaijin into the same category), they tend not to judge you when you drink more than you should on a Tuesday. Generally.

So after downing five beers last night I am, understandably, feeling a little green around the gills today and didn't make it to Ikea where I hoped to buy a new bed. Darn it. It was worth it though. Despite my firm resolution to make the most of my public holidays and go somewhere everytime one appeared on the calendar, I have spent the whole of today in my apartment eating junk food (mmm.. instant noodles..) and listening to music. Wrapped in my duvet for the most part. I would add that I do not regret this arrangement one bit.

It's pretty cold in Japan now, though obviously it's a lot colder back home, so I have invested in these:


Hand warmers! They're really good; when you take them out of the plastic, the chemicals inside the teabag-like warmers react with the air and start to give off heat. They last a long time too, about twelve hours, so I have taken to setting one going five minutes before my first lesson and taking it into the classroom with me (no heating in the classrooms) and warming my fingers on it in between writing on the board. In the evening it's still going strong so I cozy up with it in front of the laptop or as I get stuck in with my Japanese lessons. So Japan fails on one count for not having decent heating or insulation in its buildings, but wins on the accessories front.

I don't really have any news as such. The past week or so has been a hard slog of overtime at work, helping students to practise for the speech contest and preparing special lessons that have had mixed reactions (as ever) from all my classes. I've started adding ginger to my soups to keep me warm, wearing extra layers to work, and allowing myself to get excited about Christmas and New Year. In a couple of weeks (when the new bed is ordered, paid for and assembled) I'm going to go out and spend some money on winter clothes, yey! A coat, elbow-length gloves, heat-tech tops, as well as other wintery accessories. I'll keep taking pictures of Japanese things for you all, I hope it's not too cold where you all are. I was lucky enough to receive a parcel recently of chai tea and custard cream biscuits (thank you!), so every time I stop for a tea break I think of all my Frenchies :) Missing you all.

TGIF

Kicking back with a beer on a Friday night, listening to music and letting the week go. This is the stuff. As a student I appreciated many things. It’s not that I didn’t realise how lucky I was, being able to sleep in late safe in the knowledge that I would be able to work into the night if necessary (though my body clock would often ping my eyes open at 8am regardless.) And it’s not that I didn’t know what a charmed life I led when I meandered out onto the piazza on a warm afternoon for an ice cream, just because the mood took me and just because I could. I truly valued all these wonderful perks for what they were - elements of a life I was soon to leave behind but spend the rest of my life thinking fondly of. What I will readily admit to, however, was not appreciating the true value of a Friday night. Only now that I am working full time in the real world do I place Friday night on the deity worthy weekend pedestal. Ah Friday, how I love thee so.

I haven’t had a bad week. I actually don’t really have bad weeks - I have bad lessons, or even bad days, but weeks are such a mix that more often than not I am drained. It’s like I am on a constant rollercoaster of teaching related emotions.. except I have to push my rollercoaster up the slopes myself, consequently arriving at Friday completely cream-crackered.

Friday is my favourite day because I have two whole days ahead of me where I can stay in bed even after I am awake. It is my favourite day because I am at my visit school where the students are always excited to see me. It is my favourite day because I don’t have to panic at the last second about whether I have a shirt ironed for the following day. It is also the day I teach to my favourite class ever.

The class in question was particularly boisterous today. There are a few characters who always like to shout out answers and crack jokes, which believe it or not I am grateful for. Do you remember being in school and thinking the teacher preferred the students who knew everything? It’s rubbish. Teachers prefer students who, without crossing the line, inject energy into the classroom and keep things moving along. Today I gave a lesson on ‘going to the doctor’s’, which included what I call a ‘vocabulary booster’ (where I amass words on the board contributed by students and related to the given topic), a worksheet where words had to be linked to pictures I had drawn (a series of stick men running around and whining about their ailments) and a dialogue which students had to alter according to flashcards indicating the problem they needed to talk about. Now, remember what I was saying about the success of a lesson plan depending on the class itself? I distinctly remember delivering this lesson to a different class two weeks ago and being met with blank stares and reluctant groans. Today, however, the students enthusiastically participated, competing with each other to give me the answers to my questions and generally adding hilarity to the classroom. When asked to perform a dialogue between a doctor and patient, one student pulled on (apparently from nowhere) the biggest pair of glasses I have ever seen and pretended to write down his patient’s symptoms in a book, nodding with mock concern as he did so. I can never keep a straight face in that class.

So today I’m feeling exhausted, but upbeat nonetheless. On the way home from school (an hour long commute, sometimes longer depending on traffic) I stopped at the 100 yen shop and bought some more props for future lessons. I also bought these teacups for green tea:



The owl one is pretty awesome and was the first to catch my eye. The cat one was bought with someone else in mind, a much anticipated visitor who arrives in nine weeks - yey!

Whilst I’m on the subject of loading photos, Kate has requested more food photos. So, here is a photo from last weekend, when I trekked into Sannomiya with a friend and had coffee and cake at an apparently German café.


In Japan coffee is fairly expensive, it’s not unusual to pay about 500 yen for a cup of coffee. That’s not to say coffee itself is expensive out here - everything is expensive compared to back home. I’m starting to relax about it a little though, and stop comparing everything to what I could have bought from Gregg’s at lunchtime, or Tesco for my weekly shopping. Anyway, I did have a point to make. My point is that my items - coffee, crème brulée and cream horn type pastry thing - came to 630 yen. For central Kobe in a chic European style café, that is pretty reasonable! I would further like to add that I didn’t buy two cakes because I’m a greedy fat pig. Rather, the menu was broken down into ‘sets’ where you couldn’t choose individual items without paying through the nose. So I chose the ‘Berlin’ set. The coffee was really good, and in the crème brulée were soft chestnut pieces. The Japanese seem to be going crazy over chestnut season; chestnuts are in absolutely everything!

Also for the benefit of my dear Kate, some common supermarket items.



Fish heads, which are nutritious and tasty (according to a colleague of mine).


Finally, dessert cheese. The picture is not too clear I’m afraid, but these cheese triangles have such flavours as ‘rum and raisin’, ‘vanilla’ and ‘whole nuts’. Interesting. I guess it’s a new take on serving cheese plates instead of sweet desserts.

That’s all for now folks. If you have any requests for more photos of certain things, or if you want to hear more about something in particular then please let me know. I’m content to drivel on in this blog, but am more than happy to tailor to requests.

Frustrations of a first-grade teacher

Today was a bit of a frustrating day. It never ceases to amaze me how no matter how hard you plan and prepare for a lesson, one factor can throw it all out the window. That one factor? The students.

For my first years at my base school I write a new lesson plan every week and a half or so. I see them all on a rotation, and because there are so many of them I don't get to see them every week like I see the first years at my visit school. Before I walk into a classroom with my new lesson plan, I always feel a little apprehensive. Luckily I'm good at hiding my sickening nerves when it comes to public speaking, so the kids have never really picked up on how anxious I get sometimes. Normally, the first lesson I give goes really well, and I come out of the classroom afterwards feeling like I'm walking on air - maybe I am a good teacher! Maybe I did reach those kids! Maybe they will pass their exams with flying colours! Then I give the exact same lesson to another first year class, in the exact same way, with the exact same material. And it crashes and burns.

From what I can surmise, the following are factors which affect the level of participation amongst my students:

1) Is it before lunchtime? (If so then forget it, they don't care about anything other than getting to 12:40 and ripping open their lunchbox to appease their voracious adolescent appetite.)
2) Are they mostly boys? (If they are then you'll get more participation. But probably dumber answers as they try to show off to their friends.)
3) Are they mostly girls? (Then they're probably too shy to speak.)
4) Is this the last lesson of the day? (If so then expect snoozers.)
5) Have they just had PE? (Then expect nothing. The spirit ain't willing and the flesh is weak.)
6) Is it dark and raining outside? (In that case they're going to be depressed as well as inattentive. Perfect.)

Individual students can vary based on many factors. Exhausting club activities, being sat near their boyfriend / girlfriend, wanting to be part of the 'in' crowd... It's a teenage minefield.

What I'm getting at is that yesterday I delivered a spectacular lesson where I transformed the classroom into a restaurant, and with the help of a few minor props I had students become waiters and take food orders from their classmates. They were competing with each other for merit stamps and basically being perfect students. Today it was all I could do to get my students to pick up a pen. Why?! I put so much work in, and they gave me nothing!

The more time I spend in the classroom, the more I realise that teaching is about improvisation. Obviously you need to put in a hell of a lot of work before you even set foot in the room, but ultimately you have to make choices about when to change your lesson plan and focus on something else. If the students aren't responding then you just have to abandon an idea sometimes and push on with something else. It can be infuriating, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. What I can't get the hang of is shaking that miserable post-lesson feeling of being an absolute failure when my students have made no effort and retained nothing.. I hope that will come with time too, though I guess that emotional separation may be what separates real teachers from try-hard JETs such as myself.