Today I took the Japanese Language Proficiency Test in Takamatsu. To get there, we had to catch an express train at 7 am, which take a little over an hour.

At 6:57, on the train, I got a horrible horrible feeling that something was wrong, so I checked all my things… and it turned out, I had forgotten my Gaijin Card, because I had taken it out of my wallet when I got my reentry permit. You need your ID to take the test.

At 6:58, I frantically rang a friend who I thought was driving in. She didn’t pick up, naturally. So at 6:59, I jumped off the train and ran home to fetch my ID.

Luckily, of course, there was another train a little after 8. I would get to Takamatsu 15 minutes before the test started, but the center was right next to the station, so no big deal. I just got to spend the 2.5 hours before the test officially freaking the hell out. I really started to annoy the train guys on my train, because I kept asking if I was really going to Takamatsu, and I kept calling it a bicycle instead of a train (jitensha, densha, whatever).

Anyway, FINALLY I got to Takamatsu, and a friend was waiting at the station, and I took the test, and all was well. I have no idea if I passed or failed. I don’t care. Well, of course it would be nice to pass, and I’ll take it again (or level 2.5) in July if I didn’t pass, but really…. there is no stress for me now. Nothing is riding on this, and nothing will happen if I do or don’t pass. So ha.

Takamatsu is nice. It has a long shopping arcade with the typical clothing stores with weird names that all sell the same nonsense. It has a bagel shop with insanely delicious bagels. I bought two, and instantly started scarfing down my basil and cheese one as James and I walked along the arcade back to the station.

As we were going back, there were three girls walking towards us. They were foreign girls, really tall, with pretty features, and they were dressed to the nines in Japanese sweet fashion.

As best I can describe it… these girls wear a lot of white, have long styled hair, seem oblivious to the cold, and have an overall “fancy fashion” thing going on. In Japan, I don’t expect the same things from people that I used to. You see somebody wearing a particular outfit, and you can pretty much guess how they will treat you… but young girls are basically all the same, no matter what “genre” of clothing they wear! But when it’s foreigners, it’s hard not to look for that sort of thing… because you’ll usually find it.

This is not to say that I have something against pretty preppy people, or any sort of fashion, but somehow… it has a problem with me? Stereotypes from high school and college of such people, and yet it keeps being true…

So I bothered to look at their faces, and sure enough, they were giving me the side eye as we approached each other. Why?! When the one in the middle jerks her head and flicks her eyes at me, to tell the others to look. Pardon me madam, and let me enjoy my bagel. I just took a ridiculously long test, I am very tired, and I do not appreciate your fancy-pants sneering. Very nearly stuck out my tongue like a goofy 12-year-old, but instead just ate my bagel and enjoyed my walk. Life definitely too short to care.

Back in Tokushima, James and I went to Pasta Michi for some pasta goodness. We wanted to try Cappriciosa despite it being mediocre over-greased pseudo-Italian nonsense, but some fools had rented the place out for a wedding party. Who goes to Cappriciosa for their wedding party? It’s a chain, and not a great one at that.

Anyway, Pasta Michi was amazing. Neither of us had been there, but the rumors were good: giant portions for small prices, they had English menus, the server was nice (but never came back for more water, dessert, plate-clearing, etc). The atmosphere was nice, the bread much more delicious than Cappriciosa, and the salad was enjoyed by me. So, a win! I don’t know if I can eat that much food regularly though. A food coma started washing over me while I was still at the table, and that’s definitely a sign of having eaten too much (and too early, it was only half past 6 when we started).

Now at home, in my pajamas. I only have to really worry about my elementary lesson this week, and find my old Christmas quiz for the first-years. Regular lessons and work, plus Christmas shopping for Orphans, and calling people to remind them to give me their gifts for the orphans.

Ah… If I go to bed now, I can have 9.5 hours of sleep. Mmmmm.

I’ll never understand how my hair can be completely crap all day long, and right before I jump in the shower, I realize it’s finally settled down to normal.

Akka kkkaakakakakakaka

Brr, it’s cold. I hung my laundry in the cold.

We have a three-day weekend. It’s nice. I don’t leave the apartment much because of cold, and studying, but that bothers me, because I want to go out and do stuff. Urrgh.

In the past week or so, I’ve had a few times when my days turned out to be dependent on other people… ie, waiting for someone to ring, or show up, so that my day could proceed.

It’s annoying.
I’m doing things I like, of course, but the waiting around…

It’s like waking up late, but not so late that you won’t be late… but it leaves you at home with 5 minutes extra. You don’t have the full time to do anything proper, but you have 5 spare minutes to do… NOTHING!!! You woke up with just enough time to do NOTHING! (stolen from Dane Cook, that line).

But that’s how I feel!

If I wasn’t so relaxed, I would be much more bent out of shape about this. Of course, I can feel this affecting how I look at the day. I feel like I can’t accomplish as much because of waiting for something (7 hours in the future!!) so my studying drive suffers. Things don’t get done. Then I feel REALLY cranky at the end of the day for wasting my day.

If I was sick, or stressed, this would be worse. I’m trying to be zen, because I’m in a general good mood at the moment. BUT STILL.

Uh. Uhhh.

I have a heap of vocabulary to study. And then grammar. And I think that’s it. I think I’m OK. I feel pretty dang good about my studying. Despite failing another practice test. I can study up. I can do this.

/gripe

I’m facing a bit of a dilemma.

(Actually, as I’m posting this, I think I’ve got the dilemma solved but I’m posting anyway since I took the time to write.)

My shamisen teacher has been talking about having me play in a big group New Year’s concert, at the beginning of February. It’s a sort of scary but fun idea – I feel confident about my shamisen playing. Whether or not I should do it is not the dilemma, but what I should wear when I do it, is.

When she told me about the idea, she said that everyone would be wearing kimono, but I could wear Western clothes. This is one of those tricky Japanese situations: did she tell me this because she knows I don’t own a kimono (and they’re expensive) and might not be comfortable in one, or because she doesn’t want me to wear one?

And on top of that, do I want to wear one?

On the one hand, it’s a Japanese music concert, in Japan, with Japanese people who will all be wearing Japanese clothes. Do I want to stand out (even more than usual) as the person not conforming to the norm? To be the obvious foreigner in all aspects of my appearance?

On the other hand, will I look like a complete git in a kimono? (The general agreement in the Japanese reaction is that no foreigner will ever look anything but silly when they try to wear kimono – even if it’s done properly, it’s still a foreigner. In a kimono. The horror). Would I attract even more attention for trying to be conformist, when all I really want to do is go up and play my shamisen and be appreciated for that alone?

The kimono is a funny thing, because it’s a native costume that has decreased in general use and popularity over the ages to the point where it literally is a costume. People in Japan don’t wear it in the same way that an Indian woman wears a sari. It only comes out on special occasions and particular situations, and that makes it even more layered with implicit meaning than usual.

So a kimono in a concert is not so much a thing you wear in a music concert as much as it is a thing you wear in a Japanese Cultural Music Concert. It’s the uniform of the music player. But at the same time it’s the tradition of the Japanese people – one of whom I am not. Not wearing a kimono is like playing only have the song – you’re not committing fully to the Culture of the whole thing. But I’m not trying to be Japanese, just to play Japanese music. So to wear a kimono as if it’s something I that I wear because it’s part of me playing shamisen would be a complete lie, and feels like I’m trying too hard in the wrong areas – but to not wear one is to only meet the group halfway.

As I write this out, I think my best solution is to find Western dress that looks kind of like a kimono or a uniform – formal dress with a wrapped front of the jacket, or something like that.

I’m definitely making too big a deal out of what will ultimately be only one afternoon of my entire life. And at the same time, this is really just a slightly larger example of the things that happen all the time here – deciding in so many tiny situations to what extent one will be foreign and natural, and to what extent one will try to be Japanese and natural. Or unnatural. How much should I adjust my behavior? To what level to I feel comfortable being different or obvious? When does altering my actions become altering myself? Is that bad? How much will the society let me get away with? How much will I let myself get away with? After accepting that I will always be a foreigner, what is the value I place on individuality verses smooth group interactions? Is this a role I’m playing, or is this me?

And so on.

If I’m studying for the JLPT then watching Japanese TV while I put in my electronic flashcards counts as language exposure, doesn’t it?

Tonight I watched “Run for Money”, which is a real-time show where contestants run around a landmark location for 60 minutes, completing tasks and being “hunted” by Hunters (who look like agents from The Matrix). Tonight they were in an Edo-era town, and as the time wound down, a bunch of guys dressed as Oni came out of the woods and joined the hunt. If they saw you, they’d bang on gongs and alert the Hunters as to your location.

Pretty much the best game of Cops and Robbers tag EVER. The SciFi channel apparently picked it up 2 years ago. Sorry, but nobody makes wacky game shows like the Japanese. NOBODY.

And now that it’s over just crap music shows and baseball are on, so I had better return to my studying with a new strength.

There is a new pain in my teeth, and I have to go to the dentist. I went today but they were closed because of the holiday. Waste of a train ticket! Honestly, this is such a pain. It’s not like I take bad care of my teeth, or eat sweets all day every day. FRUSTRATION.

Man oh man, it’s all new kinds of hot now.

I did turn on my air-con because I’ve been at home during the day and really do need it. Ah well. It had to happen sometime.

Today is a matsuri down in Komatsushima, “Harbor Festival”. I don’t know if I want to go, but I think I’m gonna anyway… the issue is the heat, and the fact that I’m not so excited to be around a bunch of people. I’m not even that excited to be around my friends, to tell God’s honest truth.

The other night I went with the Kiwi to a charity music concert at P’s (a bar). We were two of maybe 6 foreigners there, and we wound up sitting and chatting up this Japanese woman for over 2 hours. It’s fun, and really cool to be able to sit and chat in another language but oh my gosh is it exhausting after a while!!

…and I’m starting to feel that exhaustion around people who speak English. Sometimes, when people just aren’t traveling down the same mental or linguistic or intellectual or emotional line that you are, it’s very tiring to hang out with them, and to keep things going.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, maybe not, but the thing they really don’t explain here is the loneliness that comes about. Sure, I have a good number of friends, and even more acquaintances, but… there is such a loneliness none the less. It’s more base, and can be covered up with activity, parties, coffee dates, and so on.

Note that I say “covered up”, not “dealt with”.

I mean, it’s fine. It’s all totally fine, and I’m not going to crash and burn, but going along like that is like running and engine, eventually it’ll run down and can’t go anymore until it gets a tune-up and the (immediate) issue is addressed (or at least the fan belt is replaced, or the gas replenished) and then it goes again.

Like I said, I’m fine.

And I’m going to the festival, I’m not wussing out and staying inside all day (much as that is sort of appealing, it’s also a completely revolting idea).

My body is all out of whack lately… it comes from sitting around at a desk all day, and not having the gumption to go outside and run miles.

But that will all change, because now I am a yoga lady.

That’s right! Yoga!

Last night my friend The Kiwi took me to a Buddhist temple near where I take my shamisen lessons. We walked our bikes past the old graves, through the gates, past the main temple, and to a back room. The yoga was done with by candle light (and some regular lights) in a quiet neighborhood. It was called slow balance yoga, and was taught by a nice young woman.

We did various stretches and poses for an hour and a half, and it kicked my ass. No joke, this yoga is not easy stuff. I am a giant ball of hurt today (not because I strained anything, just from the fact that my muscles aren’t used to be worked like that).

Ouch ouch ouch. I paid for 4 lessons, to make sure that I’ll actually keep going each week. Way to go, Japan! You made me all interested in working out!

Lately, I put off even thinking about this move and this change. Apart from filing my paperwork and making a stack of clothes and books to bring, I haven’t done much!

Well, haven’t done much, other than fire off several question-filled emails to various contacts in Japan (boss, predecessor, prefecture CIR (that’s a JET working in the official sector, rather than as a teacher)) in an attempt to suss out what is waiting for me on the other side of the world.

Today, I stopped worrying. For one, I got an email from my predecessor saying “Look, I can tell you about how it is here, but the first couple of months will be tough, and you can only get the knowledge by just doing the job” (I paraphrase her intelligent advice!)

For two, I recalled a message I got months and months ago, when I first got this job. It was from a casual friend who was in the program already, and preparing to stay a second year. He said

“… forget all your expectations and enjoy every surprise. It will make your stay much more hilarious and pleasurable.”

I have now accepted the advice I have been given. I can’t control everything! Worrying about if I can be a teacher or not is pointless, the best I can do is prepare myself to be flexible and open. Of course I’ll be reviewing my American History and stocking up on teaching supplies, but I can’t teach myself to be a master overnight. I accept this. I will not let this stress me out and make me miserable.
Instead, I’ll concentrate on packing light and saying goodbye.