Busy Busy Busy

I have been so busy recently I haven’t had time to sit and write anything down!  I used to have a lot of free time at school to work on my blog, but this year I’ve got a couple more classes than last year, so I don’t have as much time! School really is hectic this year, which is actually wonderful after a few weeks of nothing to do. On Monday I have 1^st, 3^rd, and 5^th periods; Tuesday, 1^st, 2^nd, 4^th, and 6^th; Wednesday 1^st, 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th (my busy day); Thursday 1^st and 4^th (my light day); and Friday 1^st, 2^nd, 4^th, and 6^th. Out of 6 periods.

After school is usually busy, too, going to Japanese class, studying, running errands, or hanging out with folk. My weekends are filled with activities so my house doesn’t get cleaned as often as it should.

HANAMI

So let’s see. After Hakone I went back to school and sat around wondering what the new school year was going to be like. Most of my days at school were spent studying Japanese or doing light preparation for class (since I didn’t know who I was going to teach with, or what the lesson would be, I couldn’t really make any big lesson plans). 

In April, the cherry blossoms started to come out in full force, so I went to a couple of hanami (花見, “flower” + “look”) parties. The first one I went to was with a huge group of Gunma ALTs from Maebashi, Takasaki, and Saitama. My friend S from UNCG was there, too, as well as a lot of other ALTs I don’t see very often. I was happy to see everyone! Unfortunately the weather was not cooperating, so we spent most of our time there sitting on a tarp under umbrellas while the weather alternated between a light drizzle and actual rain. What a strange event hanami parties are: just a big picnic with all your friends, and using the beauty of the cherry blossoms as an excuse to drink sake, shochu and wine at 2:00 in the afternoon. I’m sure the history of hanami parties was perhaps more refined, but nowadays it just seems to be a drinking party. And yes, the Prime Minister did request that revelers take it a little easier this year in respect for those in Tohoku who are suffering, so we tried to keep our party relatively calm—relatively. It wasn’t just us, though; there were several Japanese parties going on that same day, too, so I didn’t feel too terrible. And after the sun came out around 4:00 p.m., it turned into a beautiful day to take pictures of the pink and white blossoms blooming all around us.

NAGANO

We disbanded around 5:00, and my friend Hayato and I got in his car and made a road trip to Matsumoto City, Nagano! It was about a two and a half hour drive away, on the big interstate/interprefecture highway that winds through the mountains and on around Japan. (It’s also a toll road, and expensive.) We stayed the night in a normal business hotel like the Marriott (but not the Marriott) that had a huge onsen on the top floor. The onsen wasn’t too crowded, and I soaked in two inside tubs and one beautiful rock-garden outside tub for about 45 minutes. I tried out the sauna, also, but after two minutes I gave up. That night I slept like a log.

Sunday morning we woke up early, had a kind of gross Japanese breakfast in the dining room—fish, miso soup, rice, and seaweed, not exactly my favorite breakfast foods—and went straight to the Nagano Art Museum. Or maybe the Matsumoto City Art Museum. In either case, it was really cool and full of fun exhibitions from local artists, including one woman who had lived in New York in the 60s and had 3-D exhibits that you could walk through. Other collections were photographs from a small island in southern Japan and paintings from the 1980s and on.

After the museum, we toured Matsumoto Castle, which is so much more castle-like than Odawara was. This castle was actually surrounded by a real moat, and had the dark, wooden interior of a real castle-castle. The view from the top was spectacular—the gardens and the wide lawns were starting their entrance into spring and were beautiful. I decided it would be nice to own a castle and live there in the summer, with the fresh breeze blowing in. I can only imagine it would be frigid in the winter, though: how did they heat it, anyway?

There wasn’t as much in the interior of Matsumoto Castle as there was in Odawara. In Odawara there were broken pottery fragments from a few hundred years ago, sleeve hooks (long wooden poles with barbs on the end for catching shirt sleeves, I guess), and armor. At Matsumoto the most detail I found was a room with a pillow on the floor and some woven reed (?) room dividers. The rest was bare. But somehow Matsumoto seemed more magical—maybe because there was nothing in it. I could easily imagine the hoards of samurai soldiers gathered on the floor discussing battle plans.

We finished seeing the castle and decided to find something to eat—preferably soba, since Nagano is famous for it. But weirdly enough we drove and drove and drove and drove and didn’t see more than one or two restaurants. We had to break down and use Google Maps to find a good place. But the place we ended up eating—maybe 30 minutes away from Matsumoto—was absolutely delicious! I had my hot tea, cold soba, and tempura: just what I wanted.

The restaurant was close to a glass factory, at least, what we thought was a glass factory, but it turns out it was more like a glass boutique. Three whole floors were dedicated to glass works—vases, jewelry, knickknacks, you name it—and it was all for sale. I bought a collection of four tealight candles, but nothing made of glass, since it was all waaaaay out of my price range.

Next on the list was the Wasabi Farm! I had heard about this from a couple of people and was anxious to see how it was. Hayato’s GPS told us to go this way, then that way, then this way, and then before I knew it we were driving on a one-lane dirt road with trees on either side, looking suspiciously like rural North Carolina. “Um,” I said. “Is this the right way?” As soon as I said it, the road stopped. On the right side and in front of us was a rushing river; on the left was a glade of trees and a stream that flowed until it met the main river. It wasn’t what we were looking for, but it was absolutely beautiful: the warm afternoon sun, the North Carolina feel, the rocks and the river. I was perfectly content.

We set out to explore, making our way by the banks of the stream and through the trees. Everything was still bare in its winter garb, but on the ground blades of grass were growing strong. We realized that we were on the other side of the Wasabi Farm, because we saw little wasabi shoots (?) near the water. I almost was happier for having gotten lost; the whole place made me think of the creek back home. I felt very content and peaceful.

But it was getting late, and we had to go back to Gunma. So we got back in his car, skipped the actual Wasabi Farm tour, and arrived back home around 7:00.

HANAMI PART 2

It was back to school again on Monday. I’m starting to teach almost all by myself in one class, with minimal interpretation from my JTE. It’s kind of fantastic: I feel like a real teacher! And the students are kind: if I mess up, they don't hold it against me.

It was a hard week at work, but I got to rest a little bit over the weekend. On Saturday, I cleaned my house: vacuumed, scrubbed the bathroom, did loads of laundry, and organized the kitchen. I had all the windows open to let in the breeze, which was actually turning into a rather strong wind. I didn’t realize it at first, but after I looked down at the kotatsu/coffee table in the early afternoon, I realized there was a fine layer of dirt all over it. Gunma’s strong winds were bringing dust all into my perfectly clean house! Luckily most of my laundry was inside by then, but the ones I had hanging on the line outside were completely covered in dirt! The wind was flinging swirls of dust up even to the second story. When I walked into the bathroom, I almost cried: the dirt flung onto the still-wet tub and shower had turned into mud. Yuck, yuck, yuck. I closed all the windows and stared at the dust clouds outside. It looked just like a duststorm you'd see in Westerns. 

I was going to clean everything up on Sunday, but I decided to go to hanami instead. This time, my hanami party was almost all with Japanese folk! Two of my current teachers at school (the 24-year old girl and the handsome 24-year old boy, who is actually nice as well), plus three previous teachers (some of my favorites!) were there, as well as T from Glime, N and his friends, some of E’s friends from English club, and a couple of people I didn’t know. It was fun being the only foreigner! After a while, though, we joined forces with some of my ALT friends who were out, so we ended up having about 30 people, Japanese and foreign, all hanging out together under the trees! I felt like it was a good way to promote internationalization! Like my previous hanami party, this one wasn’t as perfect as it should be: because of the strong winds on Saturday, almost all of the cherry blossoms were on the ground. However, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, so we didn't complain about the lack of actual sakura.

I think that brings us up to date on the exciting happenings in my life. Oh, we are still getting aftershocks, but not too bad. Actually I was talking to my dad on Skype on Saturday morning and a pretty large one rumbled through during our conversation. And I think I felt one last night but I could have been dreaming . . . 

Very soon I will be buying a plane ticket for North Carolina! I look forward to eating some good Southern food and seeing my friends and family! (Pay no attention to the order of that sentence.) I hope all is good back at home! See yuuu! :)

Hakone Part Two

SATURDAY


At 6:00 a.m. my alarm went off, and we were eating our Lawson’s convenience store breakfast at the bus stop by 7:00. The bus took us to Odawara Station, where we went to another bus stop to wait for the bus to take us to our final destination. There were only two people waiting at the bus stop, an older couple in their 60s perhaps, dressed in hiking clothes and wearing backpacks. I asked them what time it was, and then we spent the whole day together!

It wasn’t really planned, but M and I kept running into them all day! We talked a little bit at the bus stop about the hike, since we were both going to the same place, but they didn’t speak any English and M’s Japanese is about the same as mine. But they were a kind pair who wanted us to enjoy our time in Japan. Apparently they climbed this mountain every week, taking the train in from Yokohama. Now that’s something I want to do: be a retired person who goes hiking every week. That’s nice.

When we were dropped off in front of the temple in the mountains, we went our separate ways. The temple was absolutely beautiful, nestled high in the mountains with more levels than I counted. You enter through the huge gate (one more gate picture!) and go down a long path lined with high stones carved with poetry or prayers (?) on either side. The main courtyard is huge, and surrounded on each side with large wooden buildings. There are stone steps leading up to another level, where another temple and bell are. Then more steps, another level, more buildings. It was one of the biggest temple complexes I’ve seen so far, and also one of the most peaceful. Way back in the woods, up high in the mountains, you can’t hear anything but running water from the myriad waterfalls. I decided that if I ever become a Buddhist monk, I’ll try to get placed at that temple. (That’s probably not how it works, but that’s my idea.)

After we had spent about an hour at the temple, we began the actual hike. I was amazed at how quickly I ran out of breath and energy! The trees were thick and the first couple hundred meters went almost straight up over mossy rocks. It was fun to climb but I kept having to stop, and I’m sure M was wishing I’d hurry up. I guess biking to school for two weeks didn’t really prepare me for climbing a mountain.

After we’d walked about an hour and a half, we came up to a rest area overlooking the city below. There was a crude plank bench made of boards placed under two trees, and sitting on it were our new Japanese friends! We talked for a bit (“I’m so tired!”) and they shared a snack with us: cut up pineapple and fruit salad. In exchange, M gave them some chocolate covered macadamia nuts! They left before we did, and we gave them about a 15-minute start to get ahead of us.

We kept going, up and up and up, on this mountain that reminded me of the Appalachians, with its red dirt and pine trees, only reminding me I was in Japan with the bamboo grass and occasional bamboo thicket. Then the woods stopped and a sloping grass field was in front of us. This area used to be a ski slope (maybe?) and I think we were walking under where the cable cars used to be. About halfway up, we ran into Obaasan and Ojiisan again (funny, we never asked their names, and never told them ours, either). They were making it, slowly but surely. We walked together for about ten minutes, chatting amicably about the weather and the hike, before parting ways again.

Finally we made it to the summit! When we emerged from the trees and out into the wide open air, the first thing we saw was Mt. Fuji looming in the distance, standing out from every other mountain, with a white cap of snow still on the top. Looking at it from a distance, I couldn’t believe I had actually been on it before. What on earth was I thinking? From far away, it is so beautiful and majestic; from up close, it’s so rocky!

Ten or fifteen minutes after we made it, Ojiisan and Obaasan arrived. The four of us sat near each other and enjoyed a picnic lunch on the top of the mountain in the bright sunny afternoon. We only stayed at the top for thirty minutes or so before heading back down.

This time, all four of us stayed together. We trooped the two and a half hours down in a line: Ojiisan, me, Obaasan, M. It was fun to speak Japanese all afternoon, even though sometimes (mostly!) we had trouble communicating. And it was helpful to have such seasoned hikers with us—when I complained about my knee getting out of whack again, which it does every time I climb a mountain, Ojiisan made me a present of an Icy Hot pack for it.

We went all the way into town together before we finally parted ways at the bus station. I couldn’t tell them how fun it had been just to hang out all day, so I just said arigatou gozaimasu a lot. Before we left, we all shook hands, and I gave Obaasan a hug. I think she was a little taken aback, but . . .

M and I found a nearby onsen, and spent almost an hour soaking our tired muscles in the hot water. There was a “resting room” on the third floor, covered in tatami mats, and we stretched out for a little bit with all the other people after bathing.

That night, I wasn’t worth anything, and feel dead asleep around 8:00 p.m.

New Teachers, First Day of School and School Entrance Ceremony (入学式、nyuu-gaku-shiki)

(Hakone Part Two is coming soon, but I wanted to share some school experiences first.)

10:45 a.m.

Last year’s school year has drawn to a close and the new school year starts today, April 7. Along with new classes and new schedules, we also have new teachers. It seems that teachers can only stay at one school for a maximum of seven or eight years before being transferred to another school by the Board of Education, although the average seems to be three or four. It also seems that to be a teacher in Japan, you have to pass a written exam, an oral interview, and a fitness test (of all things) before being allowed to teach. And apparently you can't choose if you go to elementary or junior high school, you just go where they put you. 

This March, almost half of our teachers and our Vice Principal were transferred to other schools, to be replaced with new college graduates or teachers from other schools around this area. Unfortunately, most of the teachers who left were the ones I loved the most, the ones who really made my first eight months here so great. I’m trying not to be too bummed out by their absence, even though I hate not having them here any more. Their replacements all seem to be nice people and I'm sure that within a few months I will feel as comfortable around them as I did with everyone else, at least I'm hoping so. As part of the “old” crowd, I feel it’s my responsibility to help the new teachers feel comfortable here, but lacking language skills, I just smile at them and say, "The teachers here are very nice," because I don't know how to say, “I hope you’ll be happy here,” in Japanese. I hope I can say more reassuring things as the year goes by.

I was surprised that most of my friends who left, women in their 20s and 30s, have been mostly replaced with men: I only counted 13 women out of our 40-something staff. Some of the new men are stern-looking and unsmiling, but others have kind faces even though we can't communicate. The new band director, a man in his late 30s, reminds me of a Spanish toreador with his little mustache and goatee, and the new 30-something science teacher looks like he would be at home on a stage crooning Michael Bolton love songs. There is also a new P.E. teacher in his mid-20s, who is tall and extremely handsome, and carries himself with confidence. My personal favorite is the new music teacher, fresh out of college, looking for all the world like a Japanese Harry Potter. He’s 23 but looks 16, and wears thick-framed glasses and an eager smile. I feel like out of all the newbies, I want to help him fit in here!

Most of the new women teachers seem kind as well. The woman who now sits to my left, while nowhere near my age, does speak a little English and wants to be a social worker, so we have a lot to talk about in our broken languages. Another new teacher, third grade math, talks to me in Japanese and asks me how to say certain words in English. Only two girls at school are around my age: one is 23 and was here last year; the other is a 25-year old Japanese teacher who has a bright personality and good English skills. Including the new P.E. and music teachers and Mr. M from last year, this brings the under-30 crowd at my school to a grand total of six. 

Today we had the entrance ceremony for students. In the morning, the second and third graders (last year’s first and second graders) crowded into one section of the gym and were introduced to their new teachers. After everyone sang the school song twice, the principal made a speech, and then each group of teachers (first grade teachers, second grade teachers, third grade teachers, supplementary teachers, etc.) stood in front of the students, bowed, and said, “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu (please be nice to me).” Even I got to bow and say hello, even though I was introduced as “The ALT” and not by my name. It was funny to see the students’ reactions to the announcements; there was a loud chorus of “eeeeehhhh!!!!”s whenever something unexpected happened (like the volleyball coach suddenly teaching basketball). And although the assembly started off rather gravely, as all formal occasions here do, by the end teachers were cracking jokes and the students were all giggling. I love it when that happens.

For lunch, we had another delicious bento box. But, just like shredding, I have a Pavlovian fear of them now. I can’t enjoy them for thinking another earthquake is going to strike—we had just finished eating bento boxes two hours before the tsunami came. (Side note: there was another aftershock last night as I was going to sleep. First one I've felt in a week.)

3:00 p.m.

In the afternoon, the new ichinensei students came in for their entrance ceremony. This time it was bigger, and parents came, too. It actually mimicked the sannensei graduation ceremony a lot, I thought. An hour before it started, parents and their children started trickling in. I was assigned Car Duty, so I joined five other teachers brandishing orange light-saber guiding sticks and waved the incoming cars forward to their respective parking areas. It was fun because I was placed beside the band director, the one who looks like a toreador. Luckily, he speaks some English, and we were able to have a lively conversation. I asked him if he spoke French, and his answer was, “Je t’aime!” which is always a good phrase to have handy. This he followed up with, "Ich leibe dich!"and "You are very beautiful!" Now I think he’s going to be a fun one to have around. :) I also got to talk with Michael Bolton, whose English is almost non-existent, but who has a kind personality and is patient with my bumbling Japanese. 

Twenty minutes before the ceremony started, I made my way down to the gym. Harry Potter was lurking in the doorway, seemingly afraid to go in.

“Are you OK?” I asked in Japanese. He nodded.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you waiting for?”

“The other music teacher.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Play the national anthem on the piano.”

“Oh, great! Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine.”

Nervous smile.

“Breathe!” was my helpful advice, the only thing I had to say in English because I didn’t know the Japanese for it. I acted it out. “Breathe deeply. It’ll calm you down.”

Maybe he understood, because he opened his mouth and took deep breaths. He tried to smile but he still looked petrified. “It’s OK,” I tried to reassure him. Weak smile. Then we went in.

The ceremony was almost exactly the same as the sannensei graduation a month ago. The students filed in, this time to glorious upbeat music from the band, bowed, and sat down. There are seven ichinensei homeroom classrooms this year, two more than last year! As I watched the kids file in, I wondered, “Who is going to be trouble? Who is going to be fun? Who is going to be smart?” Most of the boys walked in with their 13-year old chests raised high and their chins in the air, like miniature Army recruits. The girls were less confident, and some seemed on the verge of nervous tears.

Harry Potter and Toreador played and sang the national anthem without a hitch. This is embarrassing, but today was the first day I realized that slow, beautiful song they play at the beginning of important ceremonies is actually “Kimigayo,” the Japanese National Anthem. I was also shocked at how short it is, just five lines:

Kimi gayo wa / Chiyo ni yachiyo ni / Sazare ishi no / Iwao to nari te / Koke no musu made (“Thousands of years of happy reign be thine/ Rule on, my lord, till what are pebbles now / By age united to mighty rocks shall grow / Whose venerable sides the moss doth line.”) [Not my translation, obviously.]

After we sang, the principal made a speech, the new homeroom teachers introduced themselves and called out the names of the students in their classes, the band played a song, two boys made speeches, the principal made a final speech, and then it was over. The students officially matriculated into junior high school and filed out the way they came. 

Afterwards was the clean-up, the obligatory “good job, guys,” speech in the staff room, the passing out of more omiyage (I swear I’ve never seen so many good things to eat as I have this past week), and then, before I knew it, the first day of school was over. Tomorrow starts the real school year! 頑張りましょう！

Hakone Trip Part One

I haven’t been out of Gunma since I went to the Snow Festival in Hokkaido in February. I haven’t been out of the greater Takasaki area since then, either, except for the one afternoon I went to Isesaki a few weeks ago. So when school let out on March 25 and I had one long glorious week of nothingness ahead of me, I was anxious to get out and go somewhere like everyone else was.

Of course, going requires planning, and going requires money, and going requires taking vacation time from work, and my stores were fairly low in all of those departments. So I called up my friend M from Chiba (whom I haven’t seen in five months) and asked him if he had any plans that didn’t require too much. Luckily, he loves to plan, and in less than a week’s time had made all the arrangements to spend a three-day weekend in Hakone, Kanagawa Prefecture. Now I knew about as much about Hakone as I do about quantum physics, but I heard mountains, view of Mount Fuji, and Free Travel Pass and immediately was interested. I made it through the week at school and the B.O.E., and began my travels on Friday morning. 

FRIDAY

I remember a newspaper article my dad wrote years ago called  Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (or some variation on that title), about the time he went to St. Louis, MO using different transportation systems. I kept thinking about that article throughout the day, as I walked the quarter mile to the bus stop, took the bus to Takasaki Station, a train to Tokyo, a train to Odawara, and a bus to the youth hostel we were staying it. The road is neverending and takes you anywhere you want to go!

I didn’t do all of these routes altogether, though; the trip was broken up into parts. I met M outside of Shinjuku Station around noon. After a quick stop at the travel agency, we had lunch at a Mexican Restaurant called El Torito in Shinjuku. The place was decked out with tile walls, the huge mural of a woman making tortillas that is in every Mexican restaurant north of the border, a Mexican flag, and Corona advertisements. For just a second I was back in the U.S., despite the fact that M and I were the only two non-Japanese there.

But oh, Mexican food, how I love thee! I had vegetable soup, Mexican rice, a hard taco, a burrito, and a quesadilla! It was the first time I had had real Mexican—“real Mexican”/Tex-Mex—since coming to Japan. (Yes, there is Tio Tia in Takasaki, but they don’t use cheese in any of their dishes.) I savored every bite I took. 

After that delicious lunch, we walked across the way and into the open doors of Krispy Kreme, where we bought five doughnuts for the two of us. I had a plain glazed, a chocolate glazed, and a crème-filled chocolate glazed which I ate together with a cup of Krispy Kreme coffee. I thought, perched outside on a low wall soaking in the sun and eating this dessert, that perhaps this is what heaven is like: Mexican food, Krispy Kreme, and a soft warm April day.

M and I finished our food and headed back to Shinjuku to catch the Odakyu train to Odawara, a city about 80 kilometers southwest of Tokyo. We asked at Shinjuku Station about the fabled “free pass”—you pay about 5,000 yen  (~$50) for the pass and all your travel for the weekend is free. However, the Shinjuku man told us they didn’t have it, so we asked again once we arrived in Odawara. The helpful English-speaking woman there told us the same thing. Because of the earthquake and less travel/demand, sales of the free pass were being suspended. “Usually you pay 5,000 yen for travel around the area,” she explained. “But since you don’t have the free pass, you’ll pay about 6,500 or 7,000 yen.” Oh. Thanks for telling me how much money I’m losing. We might even have spent more than that—the weekend was full of train and bus rides all over the area—I don’t even want to know how much I spent on fares.

Shrugging it aside—because what else could we do—we left the station in search of Odawara Castle. 

 

Only a few minutes’ walk from the station, it gave off exactly the opposite impression that an English castle does. Now I’ve never been to England, but I’ve seen pictures of huge, imposing stone structures surrounded by a moat on a grassy knoll. This Japanese castle looked more like a work of architectural art more than a defense structure. All I could do was gape open-mouthed and say, “Wow, wow, wow.”

We couldn’t go in because it was already 4:45, so we went back to the station and got on a bus that would take us 30 minutes up into the mountains to where we’d be staying. The bus dropped us off just a few hundred feet from the youth hostel at around 7:00. It was a large wooden building with a low ceiling and minimal carpeting. Two hallways met in an L-shape, with plain brown wooden doors on either side. The big dining room had two long tables with wooden chairs around it, an electric piano, a bookcase of brochures in multiple languages, and a small collection of English-language books, including The Little Prince by St. Exupery. [The Little Prince Museum was just down the street, although we didn't go.] Our room was at the top of the L, away from the reception desk, and right across the hall from the men’s bathroom and a pair of sinks. The room was Japanese-style: tatami flooring, sliding paper screens over the window, and a closet full of amazingly comfortable futons and duvets. 

That night, we walked to a nearby Indian restaurant and feasted on mutton and chicken curry with a 2-foot long piece of nan, served by a an authentic Indian man who spoke English. (At least, I think he was Indian. He might have been Bangladeshi. I didn’t ask.) It was a relatively expensive meal (2500 yen about) but I discovered that most things in that area were. Hakone, far from being the hippie, hiker place I thought it was, was more a mountain resort town for wealthy Tokyo-ites: in three days, I saw two Porsches, a Lamborghini, two Ferraris, some nice Audis, and another famous car whose name I forget.

We made Friday an early night; Saturday was hiking day, and started at 6:00 a.m. 

Getting Back to Normal

Just a quick post to say that even though folk are leaving and radiation is spreading across the entire country of Japan (hyperbole), there's gasoline in Takasaki and my life feels normal. I filled up today and feel lighter somehow, even though I want to keep biking to school since it's good exercise. It's Spring Break but I'm working till Thursday; after that I'm going to Chiba and then on to Hakone for what looks like a fun weekend! I am furious at the weather for not being warmer sooner, but that's only to be expected here at the end of March. I hear it snowed in NC so I won't complain too much here.

This past weekend was Party Central, apparently: a Friday night Going-Away party for T (who prefers to remain anonymous) and a Saturday night birthday party for H (who may or may not want to have his name on the internet). It was nice to meet so many fun people from across the globe.

That's all that's going on now. I hope everyone else is doing well.

Spring Goodbyes

Spring is a time for saying goodbye. So many people I know are leaving Gunma—some for other places in Japan, some for other countries. A good number of ALTs in the area have left Gunma because they feel they will be safer somewhere else. Some of them will be gone for only a few weeks; others don’t plan on coming back. For me, I don’t think I need to pack up yet; the only annoyance is the lack of gasoline, but I’m getting lots of exercise walking and biking everywhere. And even then, I still have plenty of friends with cars who don’t mind picking me up all the way out in Gunma-machi, so I’m not totally cut off from the world.

But it’s not just my English-speaking ALT friends who are leaving: my Japanese friends are, too! Two of my college-aged Japanese friends, freshly graduated, are moving away: one is going to Chiba-ken and the other to Tochigi-ken. They might never come back to Gunma, for all I know. And fully half of the teachers at my school—including three of my favorite English teachers and the most handsome man in Japan—are being transferred to other schools, as per Japanese education law. They will be replaced with other teachers transferring in from other schools. At least Mr. K, Mr. M (heart, sigh), Mr. T, Ms. K, and Ms. W are all staying, which makes telling everyone else goodbye a little easier.

But what will April be like for me, then? A, K, T, and S will be gone, so no more trips to Shimokotori-machi or Isesaki. And will I even be able to drive? They say the gas tankers are coming into Takasaki this week, but maybe I’ll just keep riding my bike.

At school, Ms. I, Ms. S, Ms. N, Ms. S, Mr. N, Mr. U, and more will be gone, so no more gossiping about boys or lesson plans or joking around in Japanese. I’ll have two new JTEs, though, who hopefully will be great and not lame. And even though all the san-nen-seis that I loved are already off to high school, they will be replaced with this year’s second graders, who are actually pretty awesome.

I’m trying to keep a good sense of perspective in this time of uncertainty and farewells. Like maybe I’ll go visit A in New Zealand some time, or maybe S will come back to Takasaki from Tochigi once in a while to say hello. Maybe next year’s teachers will be fantastic and speak fluent English. Maybe we won’t have any more earthquakes (like those ones on Saturday night, Tuesday night, and again this morning). Yeah, and maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt. (Sorry, Wayne.)

Anyway, I’m keeping myself busy for the most part: a couple of friends and I had dinner at a delicious vegetarian restaurant on Saturday night (and got rocked hard by an earthquake on the way, but we were in the car so it was all right). I spent most of Sunday packing up A’s things with K and shipping them at the post office. And Monday was a holiday to celebrate the Spring Equinox, so I met C and Z at Takasaki Station for lunch, then took a train to Isesaki to say goodbye to S. Last night I just stayed in and watched the 70s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which reminds me of my dad because he looks just like Gene Wilder. Tonight we have another blackout, but T and I are hanging out, so I won’t be scared and alone.

Thank you to all of you who have been checking in on me recently; current events being what they are, I really appreciate your support. Some days seem harder than others, especially the earthquake days. I'm also happy that not everyone is leaving; there are still enough folk staying around to make life happy. I don’t want to leave Japan; I’m just anxious to go back to my normal life where not understanding the shopkeeper was the worst thing that could happen to me.

(P.S. North Carolina, look for me in late July! Start planning a party.)

Keepin' On Keepin' On

It's 5:40 on Wednesday, March 16, and I feel absolutely exhausted. For the past few days I’ve been on edge, waiting for another huge earthquake (we had a little one today that rocked the school for 30 seconds or so, coming from Chiba, which was bad but not too bad) or a nuclear cloud to descend upon Gunma (which I don’t really think will happen, but everyone is saying it so it gets to me). It’s tiring to be worried all the time. I’ve been shaken out of sleep twice—once on Tuesday morning and once this morning—convinced that we were having another quake, but when I asked my teachers about it at school, they said they didn’t feel anything. Am I dreaming of earthquakes or am I really feeling aftershocks? At school and at home, every little noise is making me jump. Today the wind really picked up, and the rattle of the windows is unnerving.

This week at school is light since all the third years are gone, and I only have a few classes a day. So I’m spending most of my copious off-time checking Facebook to see what new news is happening around Gunma, and all that time on my iPhone gives me a headache. My head just feels full: too much thinking. I don’t feel particularly anxious or worried (except when those damn aftershocks shock me), just tired. I feel so, so, so tired, like I could sleep for days.

Life here in Gunma is going on as normal with just a few interruptions, mainly in the form of fuel. I have a quarter tank of gas in my car but I’m not planning on going anywhere until things get sorted out with the gas stations. Almost all the ones I’ve seen have ropes around them and “Sold Out” signs hanging from them. Yesterday Mr. K drove me around the Misato area looking for kerosene for my heaters, and we went to three different places before we found one that had some. Luckily there aren’t lines piled up for kerosene like they are for gasoline: the line at the one open gas station I saw had a procession of cars piled up for two kilometers. There is nowhere I need to go pressing enough to waste the gas I have waiting in line just to get 10 liters. Or 20. However much they’re letting you get (Oh, and the kerosene was rationed, too; I only got 18 liters instead of 36). I will wait until things are back to normal before I try driving again. In the meantime, I’m biking everywhere, which is good exercise. I mean, it’s a pain not to be able to go visit people, since no one I know lives near me, but I am not complaining. I’m hearing mixed messages about the buses and the trains—yes, they’re working, no, they’re not working, yes, they’re working, but on a limited schedule—so I’m not ready to attempt them yet. I will just hang out in here Gunma-machi till things get better! I went Aeon Mall yesterday and it seemed pretty normal; the grocery store was out of a couple of things (batteries, milk, bread, rice, instant noodles) but was still chock-full. Kaldi was fine, too; I got some Muesli because Beat said it was the wonder food, and some macaroni and cheese because it’s comfort food. I declined to buy my own White Day chocolate, though, thank you very much, Graham (besides, Naoki gave me some anyway).

We’re still getting school lunch, but it’s not as much as usual. Yesterday it was a piece of bread (like Subway size), yogurt, a pack of airplane-sized almonds, and milk. I was super lucky because the second year students made udon soup in home ec class, and they chose me as one of the teachers to eat it. But you can’t imagine the guilt I felt slurping away at my noodles and vegetables watching the other teachers—especially the grown men, you know they were hungry—bite miserably into their rolls. I offered some of my soup to Ms. I, but she graciously declined, which made me feel even guiltier. But I still ate it.

Today we had six good-sized meatballs, rice with seaweed sprinkles, a yogurt/icee frozen dessert, and another pack of almonds. It filled me up well! But tomorrow it’s back to bread and milk, so I hear. It seems taboo to bring your own lunch from home, so I’m not, but if school lunch actually gets cancelled I guess it’ll be PB&Js from here on out. 

We also had our first blackout today. It was at school from around 10:00 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. Things went on as usual. Some of the classrooms were a little chilly but it was sunny, so it wasn’t too bad. Someone in the staff room had a battery-operated radio, which drifted old school American tunes through the air in the mostly-silent staff room. There was a blackout scheduled for 5:00-8:30 p.m. tonight, but it has been cancelled. Yokatta desu as I was not looking forward to sitting in the dark. I’ve been reading The Shining as escapist literature but that might not be the best book to read in times of darkness and trial. The back cover actually has a quote that says, “Don’t read it alone!” When it gets too scary I go back to reading Little Town on the Prairie, which I’m reading for the umpteenth time, or some Japanese children’s book.

I haven’t been studying Japanese grammar at all. My head just feels like it can’t take it. I didn’t go to my Monday night class because I was helping a friend pack up and get ready for her 10-day New Zealand trip, and my Wednesday night classes have been cancelled until the next season starts up again in May. Now, besides for the fact that I want to communicate with the people around me, I don’t have much motivation to hit the books. However, I have learned a ton of new vocabulary from this experience: jishin (earthquake), teiden (blackout), futsuu (normal), rousoku (candle). Go figure.

Tomorrow morning we have another blackout scheduled. I just took a long, hot bath tonight because I can’t take a shower in the morning. I guess that means I can wake up later than usual tomorrow since all I’ll have to do is get dressed, eat some cereal, and get on the road.

I’m wrapped up in my bathrobe and pajamas now. My plan for tonight—because I still have electricity!—is to make dinner (I still have a ton of food at my house) and watch Anchorman, Labyrinth, or the last episode of True Blood (still haven’t decided) and drink some hot tea. I was going to go to my neighbor’s house (the nice couple down the street that I had dinner with a lot back when I first came to Japan) but she’s in the hospital for the next few days. She’s OK and it’s nothing serious, but we won’t see each other for a little while longer. Keep her in your thoughts, though, please.

I think I’m going to make it an early night. I can’t handle all the uncertainty that’s flooding around me. I consider myself so fortunate to have escaped the disaster that hit northeast Japan, and thus consider myself an ass for complaining about little things when I know there are people not too far away who may never have a normal life again. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers, too, and try not to worry about me. I’m just suffering minor inconveniences, but really nothing at all. I’ve got food, clothes, an apartment and a battery-powered heater full of kerosene, a bicycle, a job, a good network of people to rely on and talk to, and March days that are progressively getting warmer. It’s all gravy from here.