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. 

....

Don't go away...I'll write more soon!

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? 

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. 

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 . . . ? 

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 4^th 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 26^th, school farewell party. 27^th, host family goodbye. The 28^th, 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. 

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.