The Past Month in Japan

It’s certainly been a while since I last posted a blog…I apologize, but internet access has been down at my apartment because, well, you’ll find out soon enough.  But, just to bring this blog up to date since my last post over a month ago:

So, I’ve officially started teaching here in Japan, but things have been quite stagnated lately.  I taught for a week, and then went Wakayama City for JET Orientation specific for the prefecture, but we were all taken surprise by the strength of Talas, Typhoon 12.

While the typhoon raged, I was stranded in Wakayama City for four days without a phone or computer to contact my BOE or any JETs, and had no idea what was going on back in my town.  What I did know, was that the typhoon had been devastating in the Deep South area, where my placement is.  Although I couldn’t understand what was being said, news reels kept showing homes being washed away by the rising flood waters and terrified homeowners being rescued from their rooftops in – surely – plastic canoes.  There were many names that I recognized since I’ve lived in the area for over a month now, and I kept worrying about my JET friends, my teachers and my students, even though I’d had little time with them. 

Throughout my childhood I’d been exposed to typhoons and hurricanes, and I know from personal experience they are not fun.  When we lived in a high rise, during typhoons you could look out the window and see the other apartment complexes swaying and buckling in the wind – but you couldn’t stay by the window too long in case something were to fly up and break it.  We’d fill up the bathtub before it landed and sometimes go days without running water or electricity after the storm.  But back then, we lived in a relatively developed area; relatively, Wakayama is considered to be a more rural Prefecture.

I waited out the storm in a hotel room in Wakayama City with only the T.V. as my source of information.  Once the rain stopped and the sun came out, I thought the worst was over.  I packed up my overnight bag, checked-out and walked to the train station, ready to get back to my town and find out what had happened.  But, the trains had been cancelled, and stayed cancelled.  Even today, the trains have been halted in the southern part of the Prefecture, and no one knows for sure when it will fully be back up and running.  I went to back to the hotel, and stayed there for another three days until I could figure out a way back.

[Un]Luckily, one of my junior high schools had been on their annual school trip to Nagasaki, and had also been stranded in Osaka because of the train situation.  They were taking the train as far south as they could, and then renting cars to drive the rest of the way back, permitting that the roads were open, so I was able to bum a ride back.  As glad as I was to finally be getting back, I had no idea what was going to meet me when I got there.  Towns were under water, and scores of people were missing.

Talking to my JTE, I found out that my BOE had been completely flooded up to the ceiling of the first floor, and I wasn’t too encouraged considering the BOE is a short walk away from my apartment complex, and I’m living on the first floor.  I hadn’t really prepared much for the typhoon before I went to Wakayama City, mostly because everyone I’d talked to about it beforehand had said it wasn’t a very strong one, we’d just get some heavy rain at the most.  But the problem wasn’t the rain, but rather the amount of time the storm spent gathering speed and mass over Okinawa and off the coast of the Prefecture, strengthening it before it made landfall.  Driving the last three hours from the train station to town did nothing to ease my anxiety: bridges were warped and damaged like tin toys, masses of trash and furniture were placed at the edges of streets as neatly as possible and as high as houses, there were news crews interviewing people and documenting the destruction, people were collecting water rations from tanker trucks and, just a general feeling of forlornness permeated every town we passed, but grew as we travelled southward. 

The car ride back, the teachers from the school I was travelling with spent the whole time on their cell phones, calling relatives and officials and trying to get as much information as possible.  We found out that the mountain area had sustained heavy damage, so much so that the road leading to two of my schools, including the one I was traveling with, were unreachable: Mudslides and road damage made the area impossible to get to.  I’d taught at the other mountain school the week before, and it was difficult for me to imagine what kind of damage the school had suffered, but more importantly, how the staff and students were holding up.

When we finally did get back to town, I was shocked by what I saw.  It had been several days since the typhoon had dissipated, so I knew that clean-up had already started, but the town had been cleared of most debris, and damages to buildings were already being repaired.  My apartment was a little wet around the doorways and musty, and later I found water damage along the ceiling and closets, but otherwise unscathed.  The next street, however, had been flooded.  Extreme storms have never made much sense to me, but the fact that my first-floor apartment was okay but two-story structures nearby were hit amazes me.  I’d like to think that someone up above or the universe in general was looking out for me, but it’s a selfish thought knowing how many people are still suffering from the many losses this typhoon left in its wake.

Utilities like water were shut off for several more days, and although I went back to work the morning after I got back to town (I got many “Why are you here?” questions), schools were cancelled for the rest of the week.  I did finally get a cell phone, but internet has been down for quite some time, and no one knows for sure when it will be restored.  Since clean-up is still going on and access is limited, it looks as though I won’t be teaching at my two mountain schools for the rest of September, and possibly even longer.  The limited express train lines should be up and running within a couple of days (no local trains yet), but there’s a rumor going around that the train routes won’t be fully restored for another six months, but JR (Japan Railway) is losing money every day all of the trains aren’t running this far south and into the neighboring Prefecture.

The following week, three of my schools were operating again, and I taught at my closest walking-distance and largest junior high school.  This was the first week I actually felt like an instructor.  As with any junior high, some of the students were still doe-eyed and excited to learn, where as others looked as though they would rather watch paint drying than hear about where I’m from and my hobbies.  There’s a misconception, in America at least, that Japanese students are quiet, polite, and eager to learn.  While there are some of those students represented, they don’t cover all students.  Kids are kids, no matter what country you’re in.  During lunchtime, some students sought me out to ask me if I thought Johnny Depp was cute.  One girl in particular grilled me on my knowledge about American music; her favorites were Chris Brown, Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga and Tupac and her dream is to go to America to see them perform live.  Her favorite song?  Chris Brown’s “No Bullsh*t.”  There were students who would cover their faces and giggle – well, like school girls – when I would wave and say “hello.”  Boys asked me if I had a boyfriend, what type of man I like.  One went so far as to say that he “loved me” and treasured every minute of time we had together.  I’d like to think he heard that in an anime or something and was just repeating it…otherwise: awkward-sauce.  Sorry dear, I don’t go for jailbait. 

The other most common question I am asked is how old I am.  When I tell them that I just celebrated my 23rd birthday in July, jaws generally hit the floor: “But that’s so young!”  One of my JTEs is 22 years old, and she would poll the students and ask which one of us was younger, me or her.  Every time, they said that I looked younger.  Well, when you’re shorter than most of the students, they generally tend to think that you’re young (somehow height and age have a correlation in kids’ minds).  On the flip side, I had a kindergartener at summer camp tell me that I looked like I was 35 years old.  It’s all relative.  And as age is so relative, some students find it very surprising that I’m 23 and don’t have a partner.  In Japan, women are “put on the shelf” like Christmas fruitcake (this is an actual analogy) and considered undesirable after 25 years old.  Looks like I still have a couple more years before I need to start looking for cats instead of suitors to fulfill my spinster image.

Then there were students who rolled their eyes and fell asleep in class, and I had to remind myself that it wasn’t personal.  Student culture in Japan is that learning is for nerds, and no-one wants to be singled out as the classroom nerd.  Hey, gee, just like America!  The major difference is that when a question is asked, the student will either decline to answer, or wait for the general consensus of the students before answering.  Discipline in the classroom is very different from the States (read: nonexistent).  If students are acting up, the teacher will stand in the front of the classroom, silent, waiting for them to settle down.  There is no detention, and certainly no suspension or expulsion.  I have only seen one teacher actually discipline a student: she had fallen asleep during my self-introduction and he came up behind her and pulled a Severus Snape: smacked her in the head with a textbook and chewed her out in front of the class in Japanese.  Needless to say, everyone was standing up a little straighter (myself included).  And my role when comes to discipline is also nonexistent, which I have to say I’ve been having a hard time with.  I’m used to reprimanding a student for talking out of turn, not raising their hand, general rudeness and bullying.  I’ve seen a lot of teasing and name-calling in my schools, and that’s something I have a hard time stomaching – back home it’s something I have zero-tolerance for.  Here, it’s expected and commonplace.

But, the one time I really wished I could have disciplined a student was during a third-grade lesson (U.S. equivalent to high school freshmen).  The students were reading about the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Sadako’s wish for peace with her thousands of paper cranes, and, because it was the ten year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, I was asked by my teacher to give a presentation about it and my personal feelings about peace.  I printed out photos of the buildings exploding and talked about how I was a junior high school student when the attacks occurred, and how scary it was because no one knew which planes had been targeted to use as weapons, and my dad was supposed to fly on that day.  A wave of homesickness hit me thinking of my dad, and I was getting pretty sentimental.  I causally scanned across the room, and the classroom trouble-maker was actually laughing.  I don’t believe in corporal punishment, but man oh man, in that instant, I wanted to rip that smirk off her face.  I then countered with the fact that 24 Japanese nationals died in the attacks, to reiterate the fact that not only Americans had been affected in the attacks, and her smirk slipped only a little bit.  Wow.  Harsh.

This week, I taught at my second-largest and farthest walking-distance school (which was really fun to walk to in the middle of a typhoon.  Oh yeah, that’s right, hello Typhoon Roke).  However, I was only supposed to be teaching for three days because Monday and Friday were national holidays; Respect the Aged Day and Autumnal Equinox, respectively.  Typhoon 15 (Roke) touched down Tuesday night, so classes were cancelled on Wednesday and I was able to teach two more classes on Thursday.  I quickly learned that this particular school was considered my “bad school.”  The students – for the most part – were rowdy and rambunctious.  I think my most shocking question came from a group of 2nd grade girls, who asked me what my bra size was.  I am also constantly teased about my “high pitch voice.”  Some students think it’s cute and tell me that I sound just like an anime character.  Others, especially at this school, think it’s annoying and find it hilarious to mimic it.  Jeez, it’s like being in school again!  Oh, wait…

Even my teachers made comments, apologizing for the students’ behavior.  But then did nothing about it.  I think this is one of those times in which the “being silent and staring at the trouble-makers” method isn’t as effective, but then again it isn’t my place to say so.  My job here isn’t to revolutionize the education system in Japan; it’s to provide the students with an opportunity to learn from a native speaker of English and to globalize the community (got that one straight from the JET Handbook).  It’s times like this that make me think: “Man, this is going to be one long year…”  Then a student comes up to me and tells me their name, and that English is their favorite subject and wants to besties with me and I think: “Man, this is only for a year?”

Next week will be a full week of BOE days because my two smaller schools in the mountains are still inaccessible.  All of my information about those two schools has been second-hand (my BOE has been busy and not very forthcoming with news), and I’m anxious about the students and teachers.  When exactly are those schools reopening, and are the students even being taught right now?  It must be scary and confusing, having something that is usually so constant in your life suddenly interrupted.

With all of these storms, it’s difficult to feel like I’ve fully earned the “sensei” moniker.  I know that things should settle down soon, and that once they do I’ll get more into a routine, but it’s been difficult to feel like I’m actually a part of the schools since I’ve hardly been there.  And, not to be a total Debbie Downer, but since we’ve had so many storms and the trains have been shut down, I’ve been spending more time than I’d like in my little bubble.  What is the point of traveling half-way around the world just to spend my time here in my apartment?  Frustrationess, that’s for sure.  But like I said, I’m sure that once things have calmed down a bit, I’ll feel more like I actually live here, rather than just an extended visit.  I want to explore as much as I can in the time that I have here, and I’m looking forward to doing so when I have the resources again.

So that’s a general update on things since my last post.  It’s amazing to me to think that all of this happened in a month – feels more Odysseus-like than anything else.  I still don’t have internet at my apartment, but I’ll try and get back on track with updating this blog as I can.