Back after a break

I haven't known how to pick up again with my blog after the last entry. Japan is going to be recovering for a long time after all that has happened and I was so angry with the media that I didn't want to write long rants in my posts. But I've been prompted by friends to pick up from where I left off with my adventures so I'm going to make a start by telling you all about Golden Week. It'll take a few posts I guess but it'll break things down - everyone hates a long-winded read after all, right?

Anyway, for those back home who have never heard of Golden Week, a brief explanation. At the end of April and start of May there is a cluster of public holidays. There are four in total and if you take two strategically placed days of paid leave from work then you can actually end up with ten days straight of time off. I didn't take any paid leave but there were still three consecutive public holidays the past week so I decided to make the most of them (despite a tight budget). So what follows is a bit of a run down for you on what I got up to.

Why I'm staying in Japan until the end of my contract

It’s probably a surprise that I haven’t yet updated my blog after the events of the 11th March. The Japanese newspapers refer to it as 東日本大震災 - The East Japan Great Earthquake Disaster (or a loose translation thereabouts, I'm still honing my skills). The images that we’ve all seen have been beyond anything I can comprehend, and the sheer destruction that resulted from the tsunami has wiped out lives, livelihoods, reduced homes to nothing, torn families apart. The media of course only focused very briefly on the earthquake and tsunami victims, but very quickly moved on to the unfolding events at Fukushima. Scare-mongerers in the English-speaking media were quick to throw out words like ‘Chernobyl’ and ‘government censorship’ and ‘contamination’, sparking panic amongst the ex-pats in Japan and around the world. Well, didn’t we sell a lot of newspapers? Are we all proud, journalists? Now that the situation has somewhat calmed at Fukushima, can we now concentrate on the huge humanitarian crisis in Tohoku?

Many people back home got in touch as soon as they heard about the earthquake to check I was okay. I was overwhelmed by everyone’s concern and thankful to have so many people looking out for me, even at such a great distance. It goes to show that ‘out of sight’ does not necessarily mean ‘out of mind’ and I’m so grateful to everyone. I am also hugely thankful that of all the people I know in Japan, not a single one was killed or injured by the events, though a couple have been displaced. Everyone I know is safe; a small mercy amidst such a huge disaster.

As the days have passed by since the 11th March, there have been some pretty scary moments involving Fukushima, especially in the early days when hydrogen explosions rocked four of the reactors. I have never studied nuclear reactors in any detail; fortunately I am lucky enough to have people in my life who really know their stuff as far as nuclear physics goes. From afar they have reassured me and given me the strength to carry on without fear. Others, understandably, have been scared for me, shaken by what has been reported by the BBC and unnerved by speculation by various people on the television. Even tonight, as things seem to be being brought under control, a friend was astounded that I had not yet flown back to the UK. I think I should explain why, as I know there are still friends and relatives back home who are confused by my decision.

I am far away from where the earthquake struck, where the tsunami swept inshore, and from where Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant is situated. The FCO recommends Britons stay outside an exclusion radius of 80km around the nuclear plant. I am many miles away even from the border of this exclusion zone. I am in Hyogo prefecture, the other side of Japan with mountains in between. I felt the earthquake, but have not been affected at all.

I love Japan. I love the politeness with which people treat each other. I am in awe of their resolve to ‘keep calm and carry on.’ I admire their resilience as a nation, their determination to rebuild, their kindness and their spirit. I want to be a part of that.

There is nothing else I can do. I can’t get on a train and go up there, as much as I would like to. I want to turn up in Tohoku, join a search and rescue team and help them look for survivors. But it’s not that simple. All I can do is stay here, donate money, continue to work and teach like I came here to do, and spend money in this country. For their economy, which faces a rocky few years ahead, my money is a small drop in a vast ocean. But I feel beyond any shadow of a doubt that the Japanese deserve my tiny contribution more than the country I left behind eight months ago. Cameron doesn’t need my sort in his ‘big society’ anyway, and he never had my respect. But the Japanese? I owe them more than they’ll ever know for the lessons they have taught me this year.

I realise this is the most opinionated post I have ever written. I also know some of you will be thinking I am foolish for trusting the Japanese government over Fukushima. My trust is well-founded, I believe that with all my heart. I believe that the best country in the world for dealing with this situation is Japan, and whilst there have inevitably been radiation leaks (which are small when put into context) and food contamination within the affected area (limited to the affected area), I think that is to be expected. It is a nuclear accident rated 5 on the scale of nuclear emergencies, after all, and I'm certainly not denying that it is a situation to worry about. But panicking, buying up all the supplies of iodine tablets, hoarding rice and noodles.. It just isn’t going to resolve the situation. Panicking is never the answer, we just have to do what we can until the worst is over. If things deteriorate drastically (I pray that they won’t) then I imagine JET will release us from our contracts and I will come home. But I don’t believe it will come to that so in the meantime, like the rest of the nation, I’m going to keep calm and carry on. I’m following the example of the Japanese and hoping that, in the smallest of ways, I can do my part in helping them get back on their feet again as a nation.

Things I never thought I would do in Japan...

Speak like an American

The students and teachers at my school have overwhelmingly been exposed to American resources and American English. Unlike some JETs, I didn’t power in thinking ‘Right! This has to stop! Only my English will be used from now on.’ I didn’t stop anyone using American words or American spelling because, at the end of the day, communication is what language is all about. As long as they’re doing things correctly in English, I don’t mind which English-speaking country they base their language on. Why confuse them more?

What I didn’t expect to find myself doing was changing my own speech. In order to make myself understood more easily by the other teachers I sometimes resort to American words to avoid having to explain myself. For example ‘mail’ instead of ‘post’, ‘trash’ instead of ‘rubbish’, ‘vacation’ instead of 'holiday'. I don’t like it, but it makes things easier. As long as I don’t unwittingly change my accent though, I guess it’s okay.

Change how I dress and act to fit in

I underestimated how far I would change my behaviour to fit in around here. In the summer I stopped baring my shoulders for fear of offending someone. I had to remove my nose piercing at the principal’s request, lest the students take drawing pins to their own noses. I’m significantly more submissive in front of authority figures and tend to ‘let things go’ more when someone upsets me. When I speak, even in English, I find myself skirting around making a direct request so I don’t come across as too brash to a Japanese person. I actually don’t particularly like acting this way as I always considered myself a polite person to begin with. One thing I’m looking forward to about coming home is relaxing a little and just being myself.

Gain weight

I was adamant that I would not gain weight out here, but the winter munchies appear to have taken their toll. What else can I do when I’m surrounded by so many temptations? My work trousers are getting tight and I’m certainly not going to buy new ones. As of Monday, we diet.

Complain about Japan

I’m not a Japan-basher, and I certainly know people who complain a lot more than me about how things get done around here. However, I do often wonder why a country as technologically advanced as Japan has yet to get to grips with insulation and central heating. No, heated toilet seats do not compensate for this.

Enjoy Japanese food more than British food

People can slate the English for their cuisine all they want (for the record, France, you are just kidding yourselves. Italy beats you hands down.) But I love our Yorkshire puddings, our Bakewell tarts, our Red Leicester cheese and our pies. For me, British food equals Comfort food. I was not expecting, therefore, to be converted so wholeheartedly to Japanese cuisine. Fish! Tofu! Miso! Onigiri! Okonomiyaki! Yakisoba! Ginger! Soy sauce! Luckily I have already tracked down some Japanese food stores on the internet for when I get home. Sorry Italy, sorry France, you take third and fourth place respectively.

Learn Japanese so slowly

So it turns out Japanese is actually really difficult. Who knew??

Keep calm and carry on

Commuting makes me a bad person. It’s true. Nothing brings out the rage in me like the morning commute of my Tuesdays and Fridays. I start by catching the bus down the road from my shoebox. Err.. I mean.. apartment. This is the smoothest part of the journey. Less than ten minutes down the narrow, winding road, it drops the passengers off at the train station - this is where it all goes wrong. I head towards the stairs and get swept back by the school kids on their way out of the station. I try to use the ‘up’ side of the stairs but it is being used mostly by people coming down. I grit my teeth and dodge the onslaught as best I can, powering my way up the stairs and into the station. Once through the ticket barriers, I hear my train arrive on the platform so I make a break for it… but ignorant businessmen push in front of me, blocking my path with their huge ‘I’m so important’ suitcases. Then, they commit the biggest crime of commuting (in my opinion) - once they have pushed in front of me, they SLOW DOWN. Gah!

I miss my train by mere seconds. I watch it pull away without me as the businessmen settle on the platform to wait for the next train which goes to Osaka (and, coincidentally, does not stop at my station.)

When the next train that I can take arrives, it is full to bursting. I get on and am pushed in all directions by many people. Half of them are wearing facemasks and I feel like I might be in some movie about a deadly virus and the end of the world. Half of them are not wearing facemasks. Those who aren’t wearing facemasks cough without putting their hand in front of their mouth. Someone coughs in my hair and I fight the urge to head butt them on the nose.

Two minutes before I arrive at my connecting station, someone breaks wind. In the warm and crowded carriage (so crowded that if I were to faint, I would remain on my feet until the doors opened) the cabbagey scent is suffocating. I fight the urge to vomit.

At my station, the end of the line, the doors open and belch the passengers onto the platform. Small schoolchildren as young as five run out and weave in between people’s legs to hit the stairs first. Sometimes they trip me up. Most of the time these days, I see them coming. The escalators have a system - stand on the right, walk on the left. Needless to say, the times that I choose the escalator some jerk always steps out in front of me and STOPS on the left. Naturally, people behind me get irate. Must be my fault of course, they can’t see the guy in front of me and I’m very obviously a foreigner. I can’t have figured out the walking rule yet! Gah!

Inside the station I charge down to my connecting train and see it waiting on the platform. Once again people stretch across the staircase, sleepily blocking my path down to the train as they stare into space. Sometimes I say a loud SUMIMASEN as I squeeze past and force myself through the closing doors of the train.

Half the journey complete, and this train only has to go one stop. It is less crowded than the first and is mainly carrying school kids. At my station the door opens and I step towards it.. but the children don’t budge. It takes a good three SUMIMASENs before they scowl up at me and step aside to let me off the train. Seriously kids, WHY stand in front of the door if you don’t want to move aside when people need to get off??

I now need to get the bus to the top of a not inconsiderable hill. The bus is already full when it leaves the bus station, and luckily I learned very early on to stand at the front. As it happens, when you need to get off the bus too, people seem to think that if they ignore you then you won’t need to walk past them and they won’t need to stand aside. The bus picks up a large number of passengers on the way and literally heaves its way up the steep incline. By the time I step off the bus I have been coughed on at least two more times and every second time I get this bus one of the kids breaks wind (I have learnt not to breathe too deeply on this bus.) I think it may be the same kid each time. When I work out who it is I will call his mother and tell her to stop feeding him or her cat food before school.

From the bus stop it’s a ten minute walk uphill to my school, and though it’s the coldest or sweatiest part of my journey, depending on the season, it is also my favourite part. Why? Because I normally have full-on commuter rage by this point and need to breathe calmly and deeply before I eventually walk into the office with my cheeriest ohayo gozaimasu..!!

Out of the habit

Last night I went out with some friends for food and karaoke. We went to a restaurant called ‘Saizeriya’ which is the cheapest restaurant I have ever come across in Japan. The food was predominantly Italian, with pizzas a mere 400 yen. Glasses of wine were 100 yen each (though I was advised against these by a friend) and the beer was almost as cheap as that from the convenience store.

Like most restaurants in Japan, it had a smoking section and a non-smoking section. The smoking ban only came into effect in the UK a few years ago, but I had really got used to being able to go to bars and restaurants and not smell like an overflowing ashtray. In Japan one of the biggest culture shocks has been the acceptance, and even encouragement, of smoking. Whilst it has (only fairly recently) been banned in school staff rooms, smoking is actually perfectly legal in offices and workplaces. Some places even prefer you to smoke indoors as businesses can end up paying fines if their workers or customers drop cigarette ends on the pavement outside.

In the restaurant in question, the only seats available were in the non-smoking section (which suited us down to the ground), though it’s pretty obvious that the smoke gets everywhere. The sections were half-heartedly separated by plastic screens, which did nothing to hold back the fog of tobacco smoke that ultimately clung to our clothes and settled in our hair. It was like being in a British pub five years ago.

Japan has a much higher smoking rate than the UK, and it’s mostly males that indulge. The age at which you can buy tobacco, however, is 20 years old. Does anyone else find it shocking that people would start smoking after the age of 20? Surely you don’t need to do things like smoking to fit in with your friends after that age. But then, the Japanese do like to fit in. There are vending machines in the street which can be activated with a TASPO card (a swipe card with age and identity information on it), rows and rows of cigarettes in supermarkets and convenience stores, and cigarette adverts sporting beautiful people adorn such establishments. In one, a model has glamorous gold lipstick and gold fingernails. Her teeth and hair are perfect and she’s seductively gazing at the camera, cigarettes in hand.

I was around cigarettes for a lot longer than the UK smoking ban has been in effect, so it shouldn’t shock me to see these adverts as not much time has passed.

But it really, really does shock me. And frustrate me. I had to wash my hair once I got home so I didn’t take the stale odour to bed with me. Come on Japan, sort it out!

You've got male

On Friday morning one of the more enthusiastic teachers came to greet me in the staff room. He is not an English teacher but loves to practise his conversation skills.

"Good morning Sir!" he cried.

Good start to my day :P

Odd moments in the classroom

I often forget about the funny stuff that happens in the classroom, and hardly anything filters through to anecdotes these days as things happen so often that most of it just fades from memory. This might be down to the fact that I’m almost always running around like a headless chicken, making photocopies and churning out lesson plans, but it might also be because the funny stuff that I recounted with such gusto on the phone at the start of the year has itself become fairly routine. So I’m going to try and remember some episodes from this week to demonstrate that my life isn’t all photocopies and grammar.

In the classroom:

There is a boy in one of my classes who sits at the back. When I ask ‘any volunteers?’ he waits a moment, shouts ‘choose me!’, then when I call on him he looks around and says ‘no volunteers.’ Drives me a bit crackers.

As a warm up I often use the telephone game (Chinese whispers for those back home, I changed the name to make it more politically correct.) Today the word I gave was ‘answer’. When it reached the board, it had become ‘question’. The girl at the front was pretty dismayed, but her ‘team mates’ cracked up at their own wit.

As a warm up in another class, I used a world map and asked for names of countries in English. When I pointed to China, the answer that I got was ‘Australia.’ Sometimes, there are no words.

A teacher that I work with sometimes doesn’t understand what I say, but before checking, he ploughs straight in and translates incorrectly into Japanese. When I pointed at Sweden on the map, the students weren’t getting it so I said ‘a hint – Ikea!’ He jumped in and said ‘yes! ‘I come from here,’ that’s what she said, so where is she from?’ Err.. I am not Swedish.

Similarly, I pointed to Sweden in a different class and gave the same hint when a different teacher charged forward and said ‘no! You are wrong!! It is not this country, it is Finland.’ When I quietly explained that I had said ‘Ikea’ and not ‘Nokia’, he allowed me to continue, but I have since decided to exclude Sweden from my quiz.

After doing an exercise on directions using a miniature map of Manhattan, one student was heard to say ‘what is Manhattan?’


Last term I did a lesson on travel, and explained that 新幹線 (しんかんせん) is translated as ‘bullet train’. The JTE was determined they should work out themselves what bullet meant, so drew a bullet on the board. It looked a bit obscure with no context, so he added a gun next to it.. a long thick tube shape with a stubby handle (do we say handle?) Anyway, this shape coupled with the proximity of the bullet the decoration of speedlines meant that when he stepped back we all realised that it looked like a giant ejaculating penis. Cue the most frantic board erasing I have ever seen in my life as the students and I collapsed in hysterics.

I’ll try to write random happenings like this when they occur, because I easily forget. I should read over them often though, this stuff really cheers me up when I’m having a bad day! Does any other job bring this kind of satisfaction?