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

Tonight I bought a cool shirt that says “FISH AND CHIP”, with a heart with the American flag in it. HA! It’s got long sleeves so it’s perfect for the weather. I wore it, and took some of the most hilarious purikura I’ve ever taken.

Purikura is short for Purinto Kurabu (Print Club). It’s a magical photobooth where you choose from a zillion different frames and styles, take about 8 photos, pick the best ones, and then step into another little booth to decorate them with doodles and stamps and backgrounds and all sorts of crazy things. Then you print them out and cut them up and stick them on things!!

Check out this crazy page for one girl’s example of her purikura.

If you ever visit me in Japan (I’m looking at YOU, family!) we will take purikura.

Purikura is super fun, and I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. OH WAIT YES I DO. It’s because I never think to, and when I do, I’m usually by myself. There is a kind of idea… that doing purikura by yourself, and having a picture album full of pictures of yourself alone is kind of a sad thing. Well yeah, but it’s also good to just take a photo by yourself… I get to take excellent series photos, and can make all the decisions about poses and decoration.

And then I get to keep all the photos, too (except for the ones I give away). I thought it would be funny recently to “attack” someone with purikura, and so I took a series by myself and then left them for this person to find (Ok, it’s my gentleman friend. HA! I love saying that). The first set I took was a little disjointed, but the ones I took tonight tell a funny story. I can’t wait to use them.

Now, I have a lot of funny ideas for purikura photo series. I need to get a stuffed dog for the next one, and write a little story line that can be done in 4-6 photos.

Hurr hurr hurr.

Let’s see. Today, I taught at Rogakko, and it was awesome. I did arts and crafts all day, with the 2-3 nensei in Jr. High (8th/9th graders), and the 5/6 nensei in elementary school. We made paper pumpkins and talked about Halloween and decorated a Christmas tree with Halloween cutouts. HAHA! I also had kids finish up their Halloween mobiles and paper maché pumpkins.

Lunch was a delicious piece of fish with skin on. At first it looked dry, but when you bit in, it was sweet and fishy and just the right amount of juicy. MMMMM. Couple that with a bowl of rice, miso soup, and a carton of milk, and you have a perfect lunch. WAY TO GO, JAPAN.

Seriously, I love the food here so much. I can’t believe the things I eat, but it’s soooo good.

The rest of the day I spent studying and preparing for classes. Tomorrow and Thursday, I have no class because of exams. Study party! If I was really smart, I’d take a day off and clean or go get my re-entry permit, or do something productive. But actually, I think that I have a day off coming up soon… a substitute holiday for a weekend I’ll be “working” (going to the school festival. Heck yeah!).

My English club is having a Halloween party on Friday, and on Friday night, I’m heading out west. Saturday morning, we’ll drive even more west, rent bikes, and bike for something like 70 kilometers across the bridge/island system that gets you from Shikoku to Hiroshima prefecture. Oh my yes. They say it’s a 4-7 hour trip one way. I’m super excited, despite having no “serious” bike experience.

I mean, I ride a mamachari. It only has one gear. A mamachari is a “Mama Chariot”, the bike with the big honkin’ basket in the front, and the really 1950’s design. It is the bicycle version of a people carrier, because you can put at least 2 kid seats on it, or put your friend on the back shelf bit (if you are lucky enough to have a shelf on the back). I feel like I should be wearing penny loafers and a pleated skirt when I ride mine. OH WAIT. That is what all students wear every day (and they ride mamacharis). Yup, pretty perfect, Japan.

That’s my days lately. And now, to the store to get potatoes for potato soup!!!

So the more I read about the things happening in Iran, the more it was seeming that as a number of countries (read: the US) have some interest in the situation, their fingers were perhaps pulling the strings behind the spontaneous outbreak of a color revolution.

At first, that made me feel crabby, because a revolution of the common folk is again chalked up to sticky fingers manipulating the populous and in turn, the bloggers who have been (therefore) mindlessly spreading the information about the Iranian people. It cheapens honest people’s efforts to get the word out about something they believe in.

Then I thought about it a bit more. A comment from someone here in Tokushima was that “is there any country that could have a revolution now a days that you would not [speculate] was the US covertly overthrowing the government?”

And here it is. I don’t know what’s really going on behind the scenes, as it were. While I think it’s important to know what governments are up to, what we’re forgetting here is that while we marvel or speculate over how and what has happened in terms of turning this revolution into a more global cause across the internet, people die on the ground. Who cares who the players are when the pawns die for them? I don’t need to hear one more conspiracy theory that removes focus from the fact that someone somewhere is standing up for something.

Maybe it’s a masterful work of international politics. Maybe the people are manipulated into wanting what the player wants. Does that invalidate their wants as a people? When we forget about them as a people and see them merely as means to an end, then yes, it does.

And on a different note (because Iran really is difficult to put into good words) today is Tuesday, and I love Tuesday. Tuesday is the day I go to Rogakko. Rogakko is a always a day of small classes, lunch with students, and enjoyable class activities.

Today for example, we used kid’s doctor toys to act out conversations in a hospital (Senior High School 3rd grade). Then (SHS 2nd grade) we played a game about taking a bath that I had drawn up the night before (using my phone bill as a straight edge: take THAT, fiscal responsibility!) Later, (SHS 2nd grade, Academic course) we did one-on-one reading and past participle work. Lunch was curry rice.

I love Tuesdays!

Lastly, a cool thing that happened today was when I sat down to study Japanese. I recently bought two new study books, geared towards Grammar and Reading, and Vocabulary and Kanji for the JLPT Level 3 (which I’ll take in December). And lo, it all just clicked today in my Grammar book.

I really enjoy these particular books because they give you kanji within the readings and examples, but only give you the furigana (telling you how to read each kanji) the first couple of times. After that, you’re expected to remember what you’ve read. So I’m working harder. I’m remember more, because I’m expected too.
The other thing is, the examples and general explanations are all in Japanese. All that my workbook says for a grammar point is “While …ing”, to tell you what the point means.

It’s all because of my reading intensive Japanese lessons, and because I started playing attention to when my JTE would explain English grammar points in Japanese.

That’s about all I have for today. It rained the most amazing ocean-storm style rain last night, and I’d like to go outside today before it rains again.

Currently Rocking the Heck Out To: Gavin DeGraw
Current Activity: Cleaning up after houseguests/1 am apple fritters/midnight hilarity

Yesterday I was correcting papers, and I saw this sentence:

“I think “mottainai” is down charbache important”.

I looked at it. My JTE looked at it. We scratched our heads. I wrote a question mark (What the heck are you trying to say, kid?) and was putting it in the corrected pile when I stopped, and with a mighty slash of my pen, changed it to say the following:

“I think “mottainai” is important for reducing garbage”.

HA. YOU CANNOT FOOL THE ENGLISH NINJA!

It’s a sign you’re getting good at this when you can take completely incomprehensible made-up stuff, and figure out what the writer was trying to say.

Editor’s Note: “mottainai” is a sort of catch-phrase used by the Eco Friendly movement, which basically means “What a waste” or “It’s wasteful (to do whatever)”. Used in a sentence, “I think using a plastic bag instead of a My Bag is mottainai”. Or “All you did on your day off was sleep? Mottainai”.

It’s the 3-day weekend!

In honor of having 3 days of play, Tanuki Matsuri (Raccoon-dog Festival) set itself up in the park by my house. Have I mentioned how much I love this park? It’s always full of crazy stuff. Yesterday there were two choirs gathered on the riverbanks, practicing scales. The day before that, my students were part of the marching band (that did not march) and the ballet performances. It was also hot enough out to justify eating kakigori (shaved ice).

Yesterday, I went to a dinner party at a teacher’s house, at noon.
I wound up staying for 9 hours, eating food and chatting with people. We talked in Japanese and English while the kids screamed and ran around upstairs. We listened to to Katy Perry and Norah Jones and referenced The Crocodile Hunter
I ate a steak roast and lamb.
When I thought about how utterly delicious that meat was, I realized that it had been about 90 days since I’d eaten any meat except for fish, and the most processed of chickens.
This was real meat. Cooked on a real live western-style gas deck grill.

SO delicious.
I talked with kids, waved at toddlers, discussed Canada, played with hamsters, ate homemade donuts. YAY DONUTS!
It was really nice to be invited into someone’s house.
Partially because I am always super curious about how Japanese houses will look on the inside.
And partially because it felt really good to be included in a gathering. Not as a token foreigner, not as an attempt to show off Japan, but just because you’re liked and someone wants to be nice to you.

Thanks, sensei!

In other news, that class that I solo-taught last week? It went splendidly. Granted, the English level was quite high, but..
but…
I stood in front of a class and they listened to me, and did what I said, because I was the teacher.
Thanks, 104 class!

If God had bestowed upon humans something along the lines of a ruff of feathers, I would puff mine up with pride and happiness.

Instead, I just become rather pink and smiley.

1. Pipe Cleaner Muscle Man, 2. On Our Way To The War

Every teacher I worked with today made a comment about how much more genki and at ease I was in front of the students. I think I am now able to get up and say “nuts to it”, and to be ridiculous in front of 40 kids. Japanese-style humor relies on puns, slapstick, and putting yourself down in an amusing way. I rock pretty hard at taking a hit and laughing about it, or making a ridiculous mistake or saying something weird. I get up in front of these kids and try and engage them. It’s always hard to tell when you’ll get the “hunh” look or the “yay, excited” look. O-sensei said to me today, “I like watching you, you’re always doing something weird, or making a face. There were no students sleeping today!”

Accomplishment? Why not!

My classes all go like this: The students get settled, and I am introduced as the new teacher. I get up, and sell them this song and dance about myself, and about Minnesota, and things they might know about it (I struck out every time I tried to make an American pop culture reference that they might know, until I hit gold with Snoopy and Charles M. Schultz. They love Snoopy here). My story changes every time, as I ditch jokes that don’t work or parts that seem uninteresting to students. Then I try to get them to ask me questions or tell me about themselves, which is usually a bust because they’re shy of being put on the spot. I pimp out my letterbox, and move on to the game.

For an intro game, it’s mind-numbingly straightforward. In groups, they answer my multiple-choice questions about America. Then, each group gets to think up a multiple-choice question about Japan (or whatever they want), and then ask me. This part is great, because a) the kids are loosened up, and b) I am the absolute undisputed Lord of multiple-choice questions. Why did you think I did so well in school? If I don’t know the answer, I can usually pick the right one anyway. This lets me play on being shockingly smart, or hilariously stupid, depending on what I think will rock the socks off the children. There are lots of opportunities for interjecting a story, or a new English word, or making an English explanation for a Japanese idea.

This reminds me of way back in high school, when someone looked at me and said, “You have such great facial expressions. You should be a voice actress”.

Bring on the “hunh?”.

Hi Everybody

I teacher. I the teach!

Yes indeed, today I taught the youth of Japan. I taught them a little about Minnesota, and that we don’t eat hamburgers for breakfast. Then I let them quiz me with such questions as “Who is the prime minister?”, “What is the longest river in Japan?”, and “What does my father do for a living?”. Also popular were questions about Hana Yori Dango (a drama that I mentioned I watched). Little did they know I also have been watching Utaban (a music show) so I know all about the actor who plays the male lead. They were way impressed. Then I pimped out my letterbox (where kids can write to me) and went on to the next class.

Each class is 40 minutes long. I learned and important lesson about stretching before a run, and not wearing high-heels afterwards. I also learned that this is going to suck the majority of my energy, trying to teach and motivate these kids. I always knew that, I guess. I just didn’t know it.

I also ate my first ordered school bento lunch today. It was basically the same as every other bento I’ve ever eaten: apparently well-rounded and healthy. We put our names down on a sheet and tick off all the days that we want a bento lunch to magically appear in the staff room. The sensei who helped me figured this out advised me to get my particular bento because the other two options were “too much food for women”.

I don’t know if she was looking out for me or trying to tell me to loose weight. Either way, the bento I got was filling and I was perfectly happy with it. I had rice with a magic brown sauce, some sort of fishy cake, some sort of tofu cake, a little cup of chicken salad, a little cup of noodle salad, pink ginger (Why is it always pink? I have no idea) and some fried fish with what tasted like Chinese take-out duck sauce.

Also, yesterday I visited my second school, which, although it is older and what one might call run-down, has that really great character feel that comes with an older building. I guess I’m a sucker for nostalgia, even for things about which I have no personal nostalgia. That’s a little ridiculous, maybe, but it also lets me genuinely say “I really enjoy this school building” instead of “Why must I teach in such a place?”. I met a few of the students in the local combini, where I bought my lunch. I’m not sure if they knew I was the new teacher (I tried to say I was, but jumping the Japanese language barrier is difficult, and jumping the deaf Japanese barrier was not that much easier). They seemed very genki (lively).

When I got back to my main school, I experienced teeth-sucking and have a decision of mine be flat-out shot down, Japanese style. Now I know how that works.

Hey! I’m a teacher now!

Coming soon: photos from me making a big old speech at the students. I only screwed up a little bit! And then all the students had to suffer uniform checks on their way out of the gym. Uniform checks! A high school memory that I had completely forgotten.

Also, with regards to the rice cooker comment: My rice cooker expertise is limited to being able to find which button means “go”, and pushing it. Later, I push the “stop” button and the “open the lid” button. Rice is made. I cannot complain.