November

I know it's been a while, and I'm sure that all (seven) of my avid readers are just quivering with anticipation for some gripping stories and penetrating insights into Japanese life, but that's just not gonna happen today. For the last two months or so I've just been working too much. And really, I didn't get as much out of it as I would have hoped.

I mean, I did get slightly more money. But after taking into account my increased travel, cleaning, and food costs, the extra pay for the first month worked out to be about enough for a trip to the movies. Point of fact, I didn't get anything that had I expected out of the last couple months. For example, I never expected to learn how many times you can wear the same shirt before it really starts to get offensive because you don't have any time to do laundry or go to the cleaners.

And I did learn a few things about teaching. For example, teenagers tend to be self-concious to the point becoming ridiculous no matter what country they're in. And encouraging them to quit being "pitiful, crying little worms" is kinda like telling all those jerks on the Saikyo train to stop pressing up against my butt during rush hour: the one person you catch stammers and acts contrite while everyone else who you aren't making direct eye contact with keeps doing the same damn thing.

Did I mention that to work at the Junior high schools in the morning and the conversation schools at night I have to take the Saikyo trains? The Saikyo trains run from central Saitama (where there tend to be more houses with families) to western Tokyo (where there tend to be more businesses, offices, shops and restaurants). They are somewhat infamous for being really really crowded during rush hour, and for having a fairly high incidence of "Chikan" activity. (That'd be guys taking the opportunity to grope unwilling people in public). I know there's a difference in acceptable personal space needs from country to country, but I never imagined that less than 2mm was acceptable between strangers anywhere. At least, anywhere that didn't involve tucking money into someone else's underwear.

But I digress. The point is, my only real expectation was not met at all. For some daft reason, I expected to feel satisfied in some way after working hard. Like, maybe I'd be financially satisfied (nope), or more content with my work progress (nuh-uh) or social situation (0 for 3 there, hotshot) or something. In fact, the only halfway satifying thing I learned last month almost cost me my night job.

Maybe it has to do with the place I work. I mean, maybe it's because I'm working for companies owned by foreigners who came here seven years too late wanting to get rich off the bubble economy, and they're still under the impression that if they can wring every last drop of productivity from each of their assets then they'll be able to afford all those 1988 Japanese luxuries like $5000 per diem expense accounts, sushi dinners served by naked women and of course, Universal Studios and 35% of the real estate in metropolitan Los Angeles.

Or maybe it's because I'm still not clear on some of those subtle societal differences. Like why an assistant teacher at a junior high shouldn't get mad just because he's treated (socially and contractually) in the same way as an overhead projector leased to the school. Or why an office lady feels no qualms at all about telling you that the before her trip to Canada she was really worried about being so constipated that "for four days, [she] can't poop," but was relieved to recieve an enema from her doctor and the news that "Canada's medical system is good enough" that if she had another problem while on vacation she'd be able to get an enema in Vancouver too. Or maybe its...

Ah, the hell with it. Here's a few links to some weird-ass Japanese stuff. Imagine the society that produces it and try to understand that I feel wonder, confusion, frustration and affection for 'em.