Thursday, December 27, 2012

Dating Tips



(Yep. All of these are true stories.)

  1. Don’t send me an unsolicited picture of yourself taken with one hand in the bathroom mirror of a public bathroom, and then ask me if I want another one of you with your shirt off. I don’t.
  2. Don’t be petulant if I turn you down for a date. Acting like a spoiled child and mouthing off just proves that I did the right thing by refusing.
  3. Don’t talk about buying me sexy pajamas when I just met you three weeks ago. That is not hot. 
  4. Don’t try to get me to meet your parents, godchild, or any other member of your family when we just met. That is a precipitous move on your part.
  5. Don’t text me using “u” for “you” if you’re trying to ask me on a date. Take the effort to type the “y-o.”
  6. Don't think buying me cheesecake is a way into my pants (it's not).
  7. Don't call me at 2:00 in the morning and try to have a serious relationship-defining conversation, especially if you've been drinking. Or even at 5:55 p.m. when I'm trying to walk out the door.
  8. While we're at it, don't show up drunk on my doorstep at 3:00 in the morning and tell me you love me. Somehow, I don't think that's romantic. 
  9. Don't send me a woebegone mix CD to make me feel sorry for you. I don't. 
  10. Quit sending me selfies!!! 

On the other hand:

  1. Bring me an unexpected coffee from Starbucks once in a while. That's super thoughtful. And I love coffee. 
  2. Yes, send me a beautiful flower arrangement that completes my living room decor! I love flowers! But then give me something totally practical, like a car phone charger or a roll of trash bags, because that's also necessary and just as appreciated. I'll see if I can get you some Reese's Pieces and some American Spirits in exchange . . .  
  3. Be totally honest and open from the get-go. Lay all your cards out on the table and I'll do the same. If we freak out, if we think we're not compatible, if we discover the other person is crazy, at least we won't have wasted much time on unnecessaries. However, we might just find that skipping all the facades makes for a better relationship. 
  4. Do sweet things for absolutely no other reason than that it makes me happy. Secretly take my broken $10 ring to a jeweler to fix because you know I want to wear it. Bring me a surprise bottle of Maker's Mark after I spill mine all over the floor. Show me with every little action that you think I'm awesome. Because I think you're amazing.  

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Adjusting


I want to give a big shout-out to the JET Program. Over in Japan, I was living high on the hog, making more than I ever had in my entire life, teaching only a few classes a day, traveling around the country several times a month, riding my environmentally-friendly bicycle all over town, and holding onto a social calendar so packed that I ended up turning down more invitations than I accepted. It was a great way to live out the last two years of my 20s and I am infinitely grateful to have had that experience.  

Fast forward to USA 2012: my full-time and part-time jobs combined don’t give me even near what I got from Ojisan Sa-mu, even though I’m teaching twice as much (26 hours of instruction time a week). I teach a morning class at the Wake County Detention Center, an afternoon ESL class in the dot-on-the-map town of Wendell, and a night class twice a week in southwest Raleigh. Before I moved into the city limits, I was living with a friend 20 miles outside of Raleigh and driving near about 100 miles a day. I’d have to fill up my gas tank three times a week. I look at the 8,000 miles I’ve driven since August and think, so much for environmentally-friendly living, huh?

But, surprisingly enough, I am immensely satisfied with my life right now. I feel, for the first time in my life, like a real adult. Despite the fact that I was married for four years and lived alone in Japan for two, I still felt vaguely like an imposter. Like I wasn’t really a grown-up. This time, though, I feel fully in control of my life, and happy about it. I’ve moved into a trendy new apartment by myself, I’m meeting new and fun people, I’m back in touch with my family on both sides, the wealth of wonderful friends I have in Greensboro haven’t forgotten about me, and I’ve got Target, Harris Teeter, Costco, Starbucks, two interstates, a fantastic library, and a park all within a five-mile radius of my house.

I haven’t lived by myself in the U.S. since 2004, when I graduated from college. Luckily, where I live now is a far cry from the cramped studio apartment I had on Mendenhall Street, and even more different than my tatami-matted place at 803-5 Munadaka-machi, but it’s still a strange feeling to be on my own again after all this time. My furniture at present only includes two desks, a bookshelf (that my kind upstairs neighbor put together for me), one living room chair, and a mattress on the floor. A kitchen table, couch, TV, dresser, and all those other necessary accoutrements will have to come later. After my next paycheck. 

In the meantime, you'll find me eating dinner on a tablecloth on the dining room floor, preparing for my many classes, and enjoying the feeling of settling down to another adventure back at home. 

Friday, November 2, 2012

Monday, October 1, 2012

The Great Job Hunt


OK, I’ll spare you the suspense: I have a job. Two jobs, actually, one full-time and one part-time.

Back in April, back in Japan, I started job-hunting and found an open position for ESL Instructor at a community college in North Carolina. I was invited for an interview, but as I was still 6,000 miles away and they weren’t into Skype, I was put on hold indefinitely.

The same thing happened with two other organizations I applied for. One was a social worker-esque job working for the State of North Carolina in Durham and the other was for a non-profit in Raleigh that I was strongly drawn to. Both were interested in me but neither wanted to hire me until they saw me in the flesh.

Two days after moving back to NC in August, I had a face-to-face interview with the community college folk and was hired on the spot. I started teaching Level 1 ESL two nights a week two weeks later. Then I was asked to sub during a day class in Garner four mornings a week. I was really enjoying the classes, but amusing myself between 12:30 and 6:30 p.m. in south Raleigh without driving back to my house 35 miles away was difficult. Plus it was still part-time (18 hours a week) and not quite enough to support me.

I was getting headaches thinking about how to fill in the afternoons . . . contractual medical interpreting? Nope, I couldn’t pass the phone screenings. Tutoring? With only one student, it hardly was worth it to drive there. I really needed a full-time job.

Then they both came at once. I saw an open position at the organization in Durham on Craiglist and landed an interview. When they offered me the job, the salary was $6,000 less than I’d been quoted, but the benefits were good and I’d be able to speak Spanish every day. I was scheduled to start training on Monday.

But on the Friday afternoon before I was going to start, I got an email from the non-profit in Raleigh, asking me if I was still interested in working with them! A position had suddenly become open and they were hiring fast.

How many hours of anguish did I spend that weekend, agonizing over this decision! I knew I’d rather work in Raleigh than Durham, but do I really quit one job before it starts, just for the promise of an interview at the other one, not knowing how much I’d make or what my responsibilities would entail? Do I start working on Monday and maybe quit by the end of the week, despite the hours of training they would have invested in me? Did I tell either of my potential employers what the situation was? What was the moral, ethical, legal thing to do? Damn the timing!

In the end, I couldn’t lie. I emailed my new supervisor (who had only met me once, at our interview) and told her I had accepted another interview, and if that I meant I shouldn’t come in to work on Monday morning, I understood. She wrote back a brief but professional reply, completely expected, telling me good luck with the interview and that she was sorry my career choice didn’t fit in with her organization.  

So it was that I walked into Tuesday’s interview with absolutely nothing to fall back on if it didn’t go well. As things turned out, though, I was offered the job the very next morning, and was asked to start work the day after! I’ll be teaching two ESL classes four times a week and be in charge of creating a curriculum to use with them. I’m really excited about the responsibility, experience, and freedom this job will give me.

Of course, I wonder if I was stupid for giving up a state job that offered a better salary and benefits to work at a non-profit, but then again, money isn’t everything. I think I’ll have more personal satisfaction in this job than I would have had with the other. Plus, most of my professional experience has been with non-profits, so I know what to expect with them. What makes me even happier, too, is that now I don’t have to compartmentalize my last two years working in Japan. I can continue to use those teaching experiences to make my classroom in the U.S. better than it would have been otherwise. And getting paid to do something you love . . . well, that’s what we all want, isn’t it? 

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Lo que estoy sintiendo ahora que he regresado a Carolina del Norte después de dos años en Japón


Oh, to be surrounded by these sweet sounds again and to understand all of it! The staccato twang of the desert north, the lilting cadenza of the south, the rushing river of fast-paced Cuba, the rolling music of Central American accents: being enveloped in Spanish again fills my heart with indescribable joy. And the people! The super-polite and super-romantic caballeros who open my car door for me, tell me I’m chula and that it’ll be a lucky man who wins my heart (afortunado el que te gana el corazón), the señoras who invite me for dinner with their family with a cry of hoy me caiste del cielo! (today you fell down from heaven), the crowd of quick dancing women at the Zumba class in the Mexican neighborhood on the east side of town, immediately letting me join without a thought that I’m not Latina myself. . . I feel wrapped up in a blanket of familiarity so happy I can physically feel it.

Strange that what I missed the most about North Carolina was its strong Latin American immigrant presence. I suppose since I’ve worked with Spanish-speaking families in some capacity for the past ten years, it’s normal that I miss the panaderías, the tienditas, all of the food that I can’t get enough of, and of course the areas of town filled with people I intimately know. But I didn’t know I was going to grin like an idiot every time I got a text in Spanish or listened to cumbia, like I can’t quit doing.     

It’s not that I’m not happy to see the other parts of America, the America of my childhood. I love the South. I love sitting down in a café and eating grits and a hoop cheese biscuit. I love the long, drawn-out drawl of the waitress asking me what she can fix me. I had momentarily forgotten how friendly most people are here, at least in the small towns where strangers strike up a conversation in the grocery line and men in pickup trucks lift their hands from the steering wheel to wave as you pass each other on some back country road.

In stores, everyone is so personable! There is no humble salesperson/Exalted Customer mentality in sight. Everyone small talks. Even when I called Geico to set up car insurance, the person on the other end of the line didn’t just go through his list of questions, he chatted with me as if we had known each other since high school. (Of course, that level of service can be annoying if taken too far, but I was happy for the conversation.)

There are other things about coming back to the U.S. that I’m still getting used to. It’s no joke that portion sizes are bigger. My “tall” (read, “short”) coffee at Starbucks is still 12 ounces (355 mL, for the rest of you). Dinner plates are so big they could be serving plates. And some restaurant cups hold half a liter, easily, I think.

I also keep switching on my windshield wipers when I want to use my turn signal (drive on the right, the right, the RIGHT!). And I keep apologizing. I want to say “sumimasen” about 40 times a day. Then there’s the ubiquitous bowing, the constant “itadakimasu” and “gochisousama deshita” at meals, the “daijoubu da yo”s that I throw around in casual conversation . . . but all that aside, I think I’m fitting comfortably back into American society as easily as slipping into a pair of old jeans.

I know this giddy feeling won’t last forever. One of these days I’m going to be sick of the gentle rolling hills that surround my new home in the country and wish I was in the middle of Takasaki. I’m going to learn to hate my 35-minute commute to work and mourn the good old days when I could ride my bicycle all over town. I’m going to receive terrible customer service one day and rant about how if I was in Japan this never would have happened. I’m going to get a terrible craving for Kazan Ramen and not know where to get it. But hush. These things haven’t happened yet. For now, I’m going to kick back and savor my $1.00 tacos de carne asada and my Negra Modelo, stare up at the blue autumn sky and slowly changing leaves, and let the sweet, sweet homecoming sensation surround me. 

Friday, July 27, 2012

ThirtyThirtyThirty


Thirty is a time of reflection. August 2, 2012 marks that special day. With all the hustle and bustle of moving back to the States, I find time for a little reflecting. What have I accomplished? What do I still have left to do? What am I happy I haven’t done yet? Let’s see.

30 Things I’ve Done Before 30

1.     Gotten married and divorced (might as well put that at the top)
2.     Lived in a foreign country (not just Japan for 2 years but a month in Mexico and 2 months in Spain) to teach ESL (my dream since I was 18)
3.      Gone through a punk rock stage in college where I cut my hair short and dyed it lots of crazy colors on a weekly basis
4.     Slept on the beach to watch the sun come up
5.     Snowboarded (twice)
6.     Been in an earthquake, a tornado, and various hurricanes and typhoons
7.     Been to a lot of funerals
8.     Learned to cook good food and enjoy it
9.     Been in a bad car wreck and a small bike wreck, without suffering any major injuries
10.  Had a hangover
11.  Knitted a sweater
12.  Smoked
13.  Gotten a B.A. and a Master’s degree
14.  Written a book (when I was 13 . . . it’s not that good)
15.  Read the entire Bible in a year
16.  Owned a house
17.  Broken a few hearts and had my own broken a couple of times
18.  Shaken the President’s hand (Spain, 2003)
19.  Seen a baby be born
20.  Learned to enjoy running and playing sports after years of hating both; become super interested in yoga
21.  Traveled to 28 states, Mexico, Bolivia, Spain, Canada, the Philippines, Japan, and a layover in Taiwan
22.  Lied
23.  Discovered I can be severely claustrophobic
24.  Lived in the country: raccoon hunting; deer skinning, hog butchering. . . I've seen chickens get their heads cut off and still run around, I've eaten fried squirrel and frog legs.
25.  Almost died on various occasions: horse stepping on my chest, slicing my head open falling through a glass fishtank, falling in the freezing creek, falling in the waterfall, etc. . . .
26.  Had a spiritual crisis
27.  Been depressed and recovered from it
28.  Learned Spanish and Japanese
29.  Run on the track and field team and broken two school records
30.  Prayed at a Shinto shrine and made a Tanabata wish

Never Ever Have I Ever . . .

1.     Been pregnant or had children
2.     Backpacked Europe (I missed that boat back when everyone “took a year off” between high school and college and/or between college and a real job)
3.     Been skydiving/hangliding/bungee jumping/hot air ballooning/rock climbing/scuba diving/white water rafting/snorkeling/snow skiing (and I’m OK with all of that)
4.     Published anything good
5.     Quit biting my nails for good
6.     Milked a cow or drank fresh cow’s milk (but I have had fresh goat milk)
7.     Had enough money not to worry about it
8.     Broken a bone (knock on wood)
9.     Run a 5-minute mile or run in a 5K competitively
10.  Been to England/Chile/Argentina/Scandinavia/Europe or lived in Mexico (and I want to!)
11.  Seen Les Miserables live
12.  Been able to catch up to my sister
13.  As an adult, lived in the same place for longer than 4 years
14.  Stolen anything from a store
15.  Had hair down to my waist
16.  Been in terrible danger (a fire, a terrorist attack, a hostage situation, etc.)
17.  Done calligraphy well
18.  Dated a guy just so he’d buy me things, or been impressed with guys who drive "cool" cars
19.  Forgotten my grandparents
20.  Been in a fistfight
21.  Gotten my Master’s in Spanish from a university in a Spanish-speaking country (but I will -- !)
22.  Followed the Laura Ingalls Wilder trail from Wisconsin to Missouri
23.  WWOOFed (worked on an organic farm)
24.  Taken the Catholic Eucharist
25.  Read as many classic books as I want to
26.  Figured out what I'm going to do with my life
27.  Kissed Mr. Tamura or Mr. Morita
28.  Had anything besides my ears pierced, or gotten a tattoo
29.  Been able to stay up all night without suffering the next day
30.  Managed to think with my head instead of my feelings 

So what does this mean? Will I write another post when I'm 60 to see what I've accomplished in the next thirty years . . . ? 

Saturday, July 21, 2012

HAZE


It’s 3:15 p.m. on a cloudy July day, and we’re getting a little reprieve from the heat thanks to those clouds. I just finished saying my goodbye speech in front of the whole school – a mangled affair in Japanese that hopefully was understood without too much difficulty. After my speech I was given a huge bouquet of lilies and sunflowers (my favorites) by the two top student council representatives. The student council president – the younger brother of my community Japanese class teacher – directed his speech to me in English: “Jaimie, thank you for teaching here for two years. Thank you for your great laugh. I heard it everywhere in the school. Good luck in America. We will never forget you.”

This assembly came after four morning classes one after the other – all final classes that involved a Jeopardy-like America quiz game, Dashboard Confessional’s version of “Jamie”, the students singing either “Edelweiss” or “Hello, Goodbye” (by the Beatles), a class picture, and the exchange of letters and cards that the students and I had written to each other. Their handwritten letters to me came bound together in a book with a decorated cover: my letters to them were written on plain white 3” by 5” cardstock. Tears filled my eyes every time I heard, "Hello/ Hello/ Hello/ I don't know why you say goodbye/ I say hello." After each class finished, the students clamored to see me, thrusting their English notebooks, file folders, textbooks, or any piece of paper in front of me for me to sign. So it was four nonstop hours of 50-minute classes plus 10-minute goodbyes . . .  My 4th period class, 2-5, was my last 2nensei class and my very last class at this school.

Their letters are full of “I love you” and “You are a great teacher” and “I will never forget you.” A good handful of kids wrote in Japanese, too, their native language seeming more appropriate to express what they want to say. It seems so sad that I have built such great relationships with these kids, playing sports together, visiting their after-school clubs, having interesting conversations – just to say goodbye. Part of me wishes I was here for one more year so I could watch the now 2nensei students graduate . . . but I know I made the best decision to start over back at home.

It’s 3:30. Time for souji.

3:50. And. That was my last cleaning time with the students.

There’re too many goodbyes going on. Tonight there’s a going-away party for another ALT who’s been here as long as I have. Then tomorrow I say goodbye to my 4 girls from 2010, who are now juniors in high school. That same night I have a farewell party given by my Japanese teacher. Sunday is goodbye to my community Japanese class. The 26th, school farewell party. 27th, host family goodbye. The 28th, in a huge two-restaurant birthday/farewell party, I’ll be saying goodbye to most of my friends.

And on August 6, 2012, I'll say goodbye to Japan.

At least for a little while. 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Emails from Students

When the 3年生 (san-nen-sei) kids graduated in March, I gave them my email address to keep in touch. Now that I’m going back to the U.S., all 577 students at school have my address because I put it in my English school newsletter. Of course, only a handful of students have actually written, but of those who have, they’ve been very nice (if not a little inappropriate).
Their emails are peppered with animated emoticons in bright colors. And most kids’ email addresses are strings of letters, numbers, and random English words. For example, kr.r-law.hero43 or kara.8888happytime or et.baseball.0908. I love it.

Here are a few of them. By the way,(笑)means “laugh”; it’s the Japanese version of LOL.

ジェミー!My name is (XX). I played volleyball with you. It’s very fan. ニホンゴワカリマスカ?イツデモメールシテネ。

Jaimie! . . . Do you understand Japanese? Write me whenever you want!
M.H. (2-4)

ハロー!あ、俺がメールしたことは秘密で(笑)

                                                                         Hey! It’s a secret that I wrote to you, OK?


クエスチョンしていいですか?!(笑)

                                                                        Can I ask you a question?

ボーイフレンドとかいるんですか?(笑)彼氏って意味です。

                                                                        Do you have a boyfriend?

彼氏とはどんなとこまでいきましたか?(笑)

                                                                     How far did you go with him?

-K.T., (3-2)

IamNameNameareyoujaimiely?
R.K., (3-3)

Hello! My name is (XX). 2-2! Yesterday, with lunch! I was happy.

M.S., (2-2)

HELLO 私はいまからごはんです。ジェイミーは何食べた?

I’m about to eat dinner. What did you eat?

M.T., (3-4)

Oh, Jaimie! Today I saw you who ride a bike. I am sad because you go back America in August. You are a very good teacher. I love you. I want to go to America. So I study harder. See you again.

R.T., 高校1年生

(1st year high school/10th grade)

I'm going to miss my kids a lot when I go back to the States. I just love them! Luckily, even though my favorite class ever has graduated, and I only have five teaching days left – there’s always still email.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Looking Back, Looking Forward


I’ve got just a little over six weeks left to suck all the marrow out of Japan, and it makes me think about all the things I’ll miss about this country once I get back to the U.S. Of course, saying, “I’ll really miss Japanese sushi” just seems pretentious and off-putting. So my three disclaimers are 1) I won’t mention food (festival karage, takoyaki/okonomiyaki, sweet taiyaki, curry and rice, udon . . . ); 2) I won’t mention friends (you whom I will miss with an ache!); and 3) I won’t mention specific places (like Kagoshima, Mitsudera Park, or Lundi Café . . . )

What I will miss are the following:

1)   LOW-COST HEALTH CARE. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen in the U.S. or not, but it’s been lovely being part of the Japanese health care system. I love getting an eye exam for $5.00 and a 6-month supply of contacts for $40.00. $80.00 glasses, eye-check, frames, and lenses included. $15.00 annual check-up. $10.00 for three kinds of allergy medicine (including Allegra). OK, so dental services are terrible (so I’m told), but I’ve never experienced an unusually-long wait and I’ve always had excellent service wherever I’ve gone. Plus I get 10 days of sick leave at work, so hooray, health care!

2)   ONSENS. There’s just something about bathing naked with a group of strangers. The best ones are outside, a gigantic flower-pot type in a peaceful garden, or ones that have a sauna or a quiet, warm “relaxation room.” I like the ones with a tiny waterfall of pounding water that feels like a massage on your back. I know there are hot springs in the mountains and in the Great Northwest, but they’re a little far from North Carolina . . . and I think you have to wear a bathing suit.

3)   OMIYAGE. I hope this doesn’t break my “no talking about food” rule, but I just have to mention how much I love all the touristy places everywhere you go in Japan. The Parking / Rest Stops / Touristy places on the Interstate and around famous places sell stacks and stacks of carefully wrapped crackers, chocolate, cookies, etc. just waiting to be devoured. Also I like how I get little treats on my desk almost every week from other teachers’ trips.

4)   FRESH AIR. Because there is no insulation and no central heating/air conditioning, the windows are always open, both at school and at home. This is unbearable in the summer and impossible in the winter, but in the spring and the fall, having gusts of sweet air caressing you while you’re still inside is a fantastic feeling. I’m going to miss sleeping with the balcony door and the windows wide open, too. (But I won’t miss that damn rooster from next door that starts screeching at 4:00 in the morning!)

5)   GREAT CUSTOMER SERVICE and SUPER FRIENDLY PEOPLE. Starbucks, McDonald’s, or a 5-star restaurant all greet you with the same “irrashiamase” and the same royal treatment. They’ll bring you a blanket to cover up with when it’s cold outside, and they come quickly and happily whenever they’re called, and talk to you in almost incomprehensible formal language. Plus you don’t have to tip anyone. Totally gonna miss that. A lot of Japanese people are also super willing to meet foreigners, and are very kind. I won’t miss the inane, “Can you use chopsticks?” or “You’re very good at sweeping” conversations (because I’m not a talking monkey) but I will miss the fun times meeting new people and being treated like a special person.

There is much more I’m going to miss, like my school and my wonderful students, but even though I’m going to miss a lot about Japan, I have a lot to look forward to as well!

Once more, I’ll refrain from mentioning 1) my friends and family, whom I love with all my heart; or 2) food (Southern fried chicken, real pizza and hamburgers, State Fair food, organic things!, farmers’ markets, Chick-fil-A, Whole Foods, whole wheat bread, international variety, REAL Mexican food . . . oh, sorry). Like I was saying, things I’m looking forward to . . . !

1)   NATURE. I’ve had it in Gunma and I’ll have it back at home, too, and I’m super excited about it. There are beautiful places all over the earth, and I am lucky to be able to see them. I’m excited to live in a city with a surplus of beautiful parks and gardens, as well as trees and bushes all over the place. North Carolina is beautiful all over. Sometimes Japan seems a little too over-paved to me, unless you’re out in the country.

2)   MY OWN PLACE. Sure, I’ve got my own place here, too, but everything about it is temporary. I only bought two things (a couch and a desk) since I’ve been here—everything from the pots and pans in the kitchen to the futon I sleep on has changed hands who knows how many times. It’ll be nice to see my own sheets and blankets, books, furniture, and memories that have been in storage for the past two years neatly arranged in my new house, wherever that may be. I’m looking forward to a 4-burner stove and a real oven, as well!

3)   WESTERN-STYLE COMMUNICATION/LITERACY. This includes the English and Spanish languages as well as just how people talk. Not worrying if my language is polite enough. Receiving direct “yes” or “no” answers. Communicating easily with people and organizations. Knowing how to act in social situations. The downside is being able to understand everyone’s petty conversations all over the place . . . I won’t be able to tune out the background noise like I do here. But I will be able to shoot the breeze with the check-out lady at the supermarket. I miss small talk. And even though I can read heaps more than I could when I first got here, I’m looking forward to being completely literate back home.

4)   SPACE. Big parking lots. Wide streets without brick walls, with room enough for two vehicles at a time! Three-foot wide sidewalks with plenty of room for bicycles and pedestrians. Expansive fields and trees. Miles and miles of straight highway. Outdoor cafes and restaurants.

5)   FREEDOM and BLENDING IN. Sure, I might miss being treated like a rock star and having my fans scream, “Jaimie! Jaimie! I love you!” But I think I’ll enjoy not getting stared at anytime I go anywhere, or everyone knowing who I am, or having people cry out, “Oh! Bikkuri shita!” when they hear me speaking English. It’s been hard for me to feel completely open here, so I’m looking forward to having less societal rules to follow back home. I’ll be able to throw my head back and guffaw loudly, prop my feet up on the chair in front of me, knit in public—hell, hold hands in public!, wear spaghetti-strapped tank tops and jewelry again, and treat everyone equally without worrying about the unspoken senpai/kohai or male/female rules. It was very hard for me to obey them all here, even though I tried, and I’m looking forward to letting them go.

I know it’s going to be a difficult transition back to the U.S., made doubly difficult by the pressure of finding a place to live, a job, a car, a phone, and worthy friendships in a new city. But I think there’re a lot of great things waiting for me out there, too. I’ve enjoyed my time in Japan, and now it’s time to go on to the next step. Thank you, Japan, for two wonderful, wonderful years of growth and learning. And North Carolina, please welcome me back kindly, keeping in mind that the Jaimie who comes back might be a little different than the Jaimie who left in 2010, but that she’s still the same girl she’s been since always.

Friday, June 8, 2012

お世話になった私

Last week I stupidly crossed an intersection on my bicycle without stopping first, and I couldn't stop in time to avoid hitting the side of an oncoming car. Luckily, the 60-something year old woman whose car I hit was understanding, kind, and extremely polite! After making sure I was OK, she bought me a drink from the drink machine and chatted amicably while we waited for the police to get there. My supervisor, school principal, English teacher, and school nurse also showed up, surprisingly, and everyone seemed a little disappointed that the only injury to be spoken of was a scratch on my finger. Both my bike and my person were totally fine, but the damage to her car--scratch, scratch--was fairly costly (I love you, JET accident insurance).

I wrote the kind lady an apologetic letter, which she in turn replied to, glowingly. "You're just like my own child," she wrote in Japanese. "I'm sure your parents must be worried about you. Please enjoy your next two months here and be careful! Come visit my house sometime!" What a response from someone I gave a big headache to!

My poor supervisor at the board of education is also getting a lot of headache from this accident, dealing with the insurance company and all. Today he wrote me to ask me to go by the Koban (neighborhood "police box") to pick up a notice of accident form so he could send it in to the insurance company.

Thinking police boxes are open 24/7, and not being able to go there earlier, I set out on my bicycle (tempting fate!) around 6:30, ready to show off my impressive Japanese to the helpful policeman.

I had just gotten off of my street when I saw three of my ex-students, two girls and a boy, lounging on their bicycles and chatting by the side of the road. "Kazuki?" It was my favorite student from 2010, now in 11th grade (高校2年生), along with Natsumi and Kana, who just entered high school this April.

"You remember?" he asked. This is the same boy who wrote on an assignment, "I saw you with a man eating udon at Aeon. Who is that man? Is he boyfriend? I think he is boyfriend." He's hard to forget.

After we talked for a bit, I said I had to go; they wanted to know where; embarrassed, I explained the situation and how I needed to get a paper from the Koban. "I'll gambaru (try my best) in Japanese!" I laughed.

"Yokattara (if you want), I go with Jaimie!" Kazuki volunteered. He pulled out an electronic dictionary.

"Eigo ganbatte! (Good luck in English!)" screeched the girls. My protestations -- I'll be OK, don't worry, you probably need to go home, etc. -- were met with daijoubus all around, so that's how I ended up biking to the police box with one of my old students. I don't even want to know what the neighbors must have thought!

It's a good thing he came, though, because I didn't really know where the place was. He had been there before, to return a wallet he had found on the street (now THAT'S a good kid!). When we got there, it was closed up, with only a sign pointing at the emergency phone.

"I call," he said.

"No, no, no, it's OK," I told him. "It's not an emergency. I can come back on Monday. It's OK. Don't worry. I just need a paper. It's not an emergency."

Something got misunderstood in my bad Japanese and his understanding of English, though, because he picked up the phone and in the most polite Japanese ever (アメリカのかたですが。。。) he explained the situation. After a long pause dotted with occasional "hai, hai, hai"s followed by a proper "shitsurei shimasu" (so polite!) he hung up and looked up the word for "insurance" in his dictionary.

"Call. They have paper," he said in English, and then in Japanese, "And the rest I don't understand, because I'm just in high school."

Exactly.

So now I've got to call my supervisor back on Monday and see what I have to do now. Things which are a hassle in America are double the hassle here, what with the language and the hierarchy of who to call and all. At least, I met a new neighbor who I might go see before I leave the country, and I was able to connect with students I haven't seen in a while. Super ALT, that's me. お世話になっている私。

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Kagoshima: May 2-4


Wednesday Night
The rain and clouds that had been following me for the first half of the week disappeared as soon as I alighted from the train at Kagoshima Chuo Station. The clearing skies were the harbinger to show me that this part of my trip was about to be the best. Because oh yes, it was.

At 7:00 p.m., I was met at the gate by Mr. and Mrs. S, the friendly parents of my long-ago Japanese crush. If I hadn’t been exactly sure what his mom looked like, I could have recognized his dad anywhere: his son is his spitting image! Of course I was a little nervous, but they were so welcoming and kind that I soon relaxed into my usual genki self. His mom speaks very good English but I tried my best to hold up my end of the conversation in Japanese.

They first took me to the hostel I had made reservations at so I could drop my bags off. Being only 1500 yen a night, I didn’t expect too much, and it met my low expectations quite well. I threw my bags down on one of the 6 bunkbeds lining the walls and went back outside where my hosts were waiting.

That first night, we went to a real sushi bar, where the smiling chef prepared us a feast of every fish in sight (and made me a present of a Kagoshima sake cup, too!). It was my first time eating sushi not in a restaurant or a 100-yen kaiten/revolving sushi place, and I could taste the difference! While we ate we discussed our plans for the next two days. The first thing that was decided was that I would leave the hostel (3,000 yen be damned) and instead stay in the furnished apartment the family occasionally rented out. So even though I didn’t get my money back when I went to retrieve my luggage, I did sleep soundly for two nights on a comfortable bed in the heart of Kagoshima.

Thursday

            Promptly at 8:30 the next morning, Mr. and Mrs. S came to pick me up. They had brought some kind of mochi for breakfast that you slice with a piece of thread wrapped around your teeth. Then you dip it in brown sugar and another powder (oh, what’s its name?!) that tastes similar to peanuts. It’s divine!

            S had informed his parents that I was more the outdoor than indoor type, so we didn’t waste any time in the city itself but instead soaked ourselves in the warm weather. That whole day was filled with beautiful places and scenic viewpoints whose names and positions on the map I tried to keep up with but failed. After a while I gave up trying, and instead just concentrated on the experiences as they were happening.

            In the morning, a short walk through the woods that led to a platform overlooking Sakurajima, the island’s famous volcano.

            A historic park, a wide expanse of garden, flowers, palm trees, and samurais.

            A Kagoshima specialty lunch of rice, chicken, and vegetables covered in chicken soup.

            A visit to S’s grandmother’s house, where we drank hot tea and enjoyed pleasant conversation. Such a kind soul!

            A visit to a famous Korean pottery factory, where I had a guided tour in English and bought matching hand-kilned cups.

             Later, a two-hour drive through windy mountain roads lined with large, leafy green trees I’d never seen before, everything big and green and sweet-smelling. On the drive, we made two quick stops: one at a park overlooking the sparkling water, brilliant pink azalea bushes in full blossom, palm trees swaying . . . and another stop at the farthest south train station in Japan.

            To wrap up a beautiful day, I took a hot sand bath (wearing only a yukatta and buried in warm sand on the beach for about 15 minutes) and then soaked in an enormous outdoor onsen with a view of the ocean, one of the most famous in Kagoshima.

            By the time we got back to the city, I was so very relaxed and sleepy, but perked right up again when we started to eat dinner: sushi, grilled beef and fish, noodles and vegetables, and lots and lots of beer. How cool was it to enjoy good food, good drinks, and good company?
            But before I knew it, it was 11:00, and time to go to bed.

Friday

            I was picked up right at 8:30 on the dot on Friday morning. Time was short and there was a lot to do and see!

            We started driving north and stopped at a big red temple, where, for sake of time, we prayed from the sidelines instead of waiting in line to go inside. Our destination was a park/farm (?) where we took a train and a cable car up to the top of a mountain, giving us a spectacular view of the valley below. Afterwards we stopped by the oldest train station in Japan (Kyushu is full of superlatives!) and later feasted on black pork tonkatsu (deep-fried cutlet—it’s delicious) for lunch. But then, just as soon as it had begun, it was time to leave.

            At the airport, S’s mom pointed out all the different omiyage for sale. “While you were here, you ate this . . . and this . . . and this . . . ” It turns out I had been introduced to and eaten almost everything famous from that area! Yatta!

            After researching and planning my first three days in Kyushu, adding this, cutting out that (wishing I wouldn’t have tried to go to Aso-san), it felt so nice to be taken care of so well in Kagoshima. I didn’t have to plan anything or stress myself out; I could just go along and enjoy everything that was presented to me. There’s an expression in Japanese “osewa ni narimashita” which literally means, “I have become under your care” or “You have taken care of me.” I felt more than anything that I had been gathered under their wing and been taken care of so well.

            Of course, throughout those two days, I would stop myself in the middle of whatever we were doing and think to myself: “I’m in Kagoshima. With S’s parents.” Would I ever have thought, five years ago, that such things could actually happen?