So Japan wants to introduce some stiffer checks for foreigners coming to visit the land of the rising sun. I mean, it's understandable that after the rise in immigrant related problems, especially with young women who are tricked into entering as dancers then forced into the sex trade, that Japan would want to try and stem the causes of these problems.
Of course, it's not like we haven't seen all of this before. I mean, it's not like Japan is the only nation that would demand of potential vistors lists of when, why, where and with whom they're planning on going and where when and who they're planning on seeing.
I suppose I have to ask again, who really stands to benefit from this sort of inquiry? And why don't we hear more about it?
09 December 2004
08 December 2004
Why do I complain about my job?
As you may or may not know (and as you may or may not care), I'm an assitant language teacher working for a couple of elementary schools in Tokyo. And I regularly bitch about not getting anything in the way of support. For years ALTs have been griping about not being sufficiently trained and then being abandoned in the classroom by the Japanese teacher. As it turns out, there's a reason for that sort of behavior...
Yeah. Even if the students want to study it, the teachers often have no interest in taking part. And why? They're nervous. Fortunately, I can't think of a single ALT who's ever felt nervous about trying to communicate with a room full of Japanese students.
Yeah. Even if the students want to study it, the teachers often have no interest in taking part. And why? They're nervous. Fortunately, I can't think of a single ALT who's ever felt nervous about trying to communicate with a room full of Japanese students.
03 December 2004
25 November 2004
Say what?
Yeah, Japan is starting its very own pro basketball league. Hoping to follow the success of the Japanese soccer league, and to cash in on the NBA debut of Yuta Tabuse, the new league will start its inaugural season in November 2005 with six teams.
As for the name of the new organization? Well, since baseball already got NPB (Nippon Professional Baseball), and soccer got J League (The "J" stands for "Japan," duh), they've elected to put the sport first.
BJ-League.
Yeah. Even after years of the international community making fun of the English used in Japan for things like sports drinks, travel magazines and god only knows how many t-shirts, they still haven't thought about checking these names with someone who actually speaks English.
Of course, there is something really uplifting about cheering for the Nippon Ham Fighters, so maybe it ain't so bad.
As for the name of the new organization? Well, since baseball already got NPB (Nippon Professional Baseball), and soccer got J League (The "J" stands for "Japan," duh), they've elected to put the sport first.
BJ-League.
Yeah. Even after years of the international community making fun of the English used in Japan for things like sports drinks, travel magazines and god only knows how many t-shirts, they still haven't thought about checking these names with someone who actually speaks English.
Of course, there is something really uplifting about cheering for the Nippon Ham Fighters, so maybe it ain't so bad.
17 November 2004
So, did you rock the vote?
When I was first contracted to work in Japan, one of the warnings the company gave me was that I would "represent the company at all times, even outside of normal work hours, and [would be] expected to behave in an appropriate manner." It seemed to me like a convenient thing to toss into a contract to facilitate firings in case teachers did some really heinous things that might reflect badly on the company that brought them there. And I don't mean like mistaking an after-work party for an excuse to drunkenly proposition students before groping a co-worker and throwing up on the street in front of the school. I mean like a drunken brawl with the police, an arrest and conviction for heroin trafficking or propositioning a 14-year old girl.
Those things have happened, but they're more often done by Japanese citizens than foreign teachers. It's just a case of numbers. In a nation of over 127 million people, registered foreigners, around 1.5% of that total, make up something like 1.8 million people. And the vast majority of them are ethnic Korean or Chinese. Oddly enough, the number three group is Brazilians, but a number of them are second- or third-generation children of Japanese people who immigrated to Brazil.
Just for comparison, the US population recognizes about 28.4 million registered foreign-born immigrants. That's 10% of America's population, and it doesn't include any of the undocumented entrants who are either: feared, reviled or seen as a necessary and unavoidable part of the labor force who must be used in the post-slavery-pre-worker-robot-and-vat-grown-clone-laborers-period to do the stuff we don't want to dirty our hands with. Like gardening, slaughterhouse work and child care.
The point of all this is that there aren't very many people walking around Japan who don't look Asian. In some of the smaller cities (like Yokohama, 3.5 million) there's only 1.8 foreigners for each 100 people. And that's in a port town where a history of international trade is considered an integral part of the city's identity. Yokohama is about the same size as LA, Sydney, St. Petersburg, metropolitan Paris or Montreal. Can you imagine being in any of those cities and only seeing one kind of person? It just doesn't happen like that in most parts of the western world. If you are a foreign person living here, by default you're going to be taken as representative of your species, primarily for lack of comparison.
(By the way, if you're curious about Japan's immigration situation, you might want to read this article about Japan's (somewhat glacial) move towards an immigration and integration policy for foreigners.)
In Tokyo, a fairly hip place, people will sometimes understand that there may be a difference between foreigners of different nations, and ask questions accordingly. After last summer's heat waves, the French got questions about their country's infrastructure and health care system. After the Olympics, Australians and Brits got questions about their athletes. After the election, Americans (and some unlucky Canadians) were being asked "what the hell happened?"
I don't know if anyone tries to find Floridians, Texans, or anyone from any of the other Republican states and asks "what the hell were you thinking?" But since there's no way to make that distinction here, for me it comes down to trying to explain why my country, why my fellow Americans chose a leader who the rest of the world (with the exception of a handful of like-minded politicians) think is a dishonest, oil-mad, warmongering halfwit with Jesus-flavored psychotic delusions.
And I don't know what to tell them. I mean, I can understand on a rational level how someone would make the choice to support a politician who promises to cut your taxes, or to protect you from foreigners, or even one who claims to have the same beliefs and prejudices as you. But what I can't understand is how someone would support that politician in light of everything questionable that he's done and reasonable that he's failed, neglected or simply chosen not to do.
So that's the rub. I have to admit that I really, honestly don't understand, agree or empathize with at least 59 million people in my country. I realize that the voting majority that put Bush in represents slightly over 1/6 of the total population, But that's still a lot. My leaders, the majority of my leaders, hold positions that I don't support, agree with or condone. And all signs say that this is only the beginning of a long, hard era.
A lot of being an expat has to do with not really belonging to the place where you live. Now I have the feeling I no longer understand the place I came from.
Those things have happened, but they're more often done by Japanese citizens than foreign teachers. It's just a case of numbers. In a nation of over 127 million people, registered foreigners, around 1.5% of that total, make up something like 1.8 million people. And the vast majority of them are ethnic Korean or Chinese. Oddly enough, the number three group is Brazilians, but a number of them are second- or third-generation children of Japanese people who immigrated to Brazil.
Just for comparison, the US population recognizes about 28.4 million registered foreign-born immigrants. That's 10% of America's population, and it doesn't include any of the undocumented entrants who are either: feared, reviled or seen as a necessary and unavoidable part of the labor force who must be used in the post-slavery-pre-worker-robot-and-vat-grown-clone-laborers-period to do the stuff we don't want to dirty our hands with. Like gardening, slaughterhouse work and child care.
The point of all this is that there aren't very many people walking around Japan who don't look Asian. In some of the smaller cities (like Yokohama, 3.5 million) there's only 1.8 foreigners for each 100 people. And that's in a port town where a history of international trade is considered an integral part of the city's identity. Yokohama is about the same size as LA, Sydney, St. Petersburg, metropolitan Paris or Montreal. Can you imagine being in any of those cities and only seeing one kind of person? It just doesn't happen like that in most parts of the western world. If you are a foreign person living here, by default you're going to be taken as representative of your species, primarily for lack of comparison.
(By the way, if you're curious about Japan's immigration situation, you might want to read this article about Japan's (somewhat glacial) move towards an immigration and integration policy for foreigners.)
In Tokyo, a fairly hip place, people will sometimes understand that there may be a difference between foreigners of different nations, and ask questions accordingly. After last summer's heat waves, the French got questions about their country's infrastructure and health care system. After the Olympics, Australians and Brits got questions about their athletes. After the election, Americans (and some unlucky Canadians) were being asked "what the hell happened?"
I don't know if anyone tries to find Floridians, Texans, or anyone from any of the other Republican states and asks "what the hell were you thinking?" But since there's no way to make that distinction here, for me it comes down to trying to explain why my country, why my fellow Americans chose a leader who the rest of the world (with the exception of a handful of like-minded politicians) think is a dishonest, oil-mad, warmongering halfwit with Jesus-flavored psychotic delusions.
And I don't know what to tell them. I mean, I can understand on a rational level how someone would make the choice to support a politician who promises to cut your taxes, or to protect you from foreigners, or even one who claims to have the same beliefs and prejudices as you. But what I can't understand is how someone would support that politician in light of everything questionable that he's done and reasonable that he's failed, neglected or simply chosen not to do.
So that's the rub. I have to admit that I really, honestly don't understand, agree or empathize with at least 59 million people in my country. I realize that the voting majority that put Bush in represents slightly over 1/6 of the total population, But that's still a lot. My leaders, the majority of my leaders, hold positions that I don't support, agree with or condone. And all signs say that this is only the beginning of a long, hard era.
A lot of being an expat has to do with not really belonging to the place where you live. Now I have the feeling I no longer understand the place I came from.
02 November 2004
This is the big day, huh?
So what's it gonna be, America?
Four more years?
More of the same?
Another court decided rule that ignores the people?
Is this going to be the year we officially lay the myth of American democracy to rest?
I have to tell you, I'm not hopeful.
Four more years?
More of the same?
Another court decided rule that ignores the people?
Is this going to be the year we officially lay the myth of American democracy to rest?
I have to tell you, I'm not hopeful.
30 October 2004
Know thy...enemy?
I suppose that before the "War on Terror," which is coming to look like the "War on Middle Eastern Dissent" specifically, the US had been most interested in fighting the "War Against Communism."
So really, would there be anything scarier than "Communist Muslims?"
Well, if you find government tolerance of a misunderstood minority scary, or the protection of egalitarian educational policies unnerving, then no. This is as scary as it could get.
You big babies.
So really, would there be anything scarier than "Communist Muslims?"
Well, if you find government tolerance of a misunderstood minority scary, or the protection of egalitarian educational policies unnerving, then no. This is as scary as it could get.
You big babies.
27 October 2004
October is the cruelest month...
In Japan anyway.
Just so you know:
This month, typhoons number 9 and 10 hit Japan, dumping the equivalent of half a year's worth of rain in two weeks. Hardest hit were the southern and western parts of Japan. Number 10, which was the deadliest in 60 years, did nothing to Tokyo except give it a much-needed shower.
Last week a cluster of earthquakes hit the Niigata area in northern Japan. The deadliest since the Great Kobe quake of 1992, 31 people were counted dead, several hundred injured and many thousands more are now homeless. The train lines are buckled and the highways are crushed. As residents struggle to find protection from the bitterly cold nights, municipal shelters are filled beyond capacity. Many people who have taken to sleeping in their cars have become prime candidates for "economy-class syndrome," in which immobility and lack of space lead to muscle cramps, high blood pressure, blood clots and possibly death. Tokyo did nothing besides pre-empt the laughably named "Golden Hour" programming block of miserable, Friday night TV.
Because of the unusually high amounts of rain that fell this summer, the nuts and berries that make up the bulk of the average black bear diet have been unavailable. Leading bears to forage for food in human towns. And as people have tried to confront the bears, a number of attacks have occurred. But in general, the bears have only been attacking the weak and the stupid who live in mountainous, rural regions.
So to sum up: The country bumpkins are taking it on the chin, but we hip, sophisticated city-dwellers are doing just fine.
For now.
Just so you know:
This month, typhoons number 9 and 10 hit Japan, dumping the equivalent of half a year's worth of rain in two weeks. Hardest hit were the southern and western parts of Japan. Number 10, which was the deadliest in 60 years, did nothing to Tokyo except give it a much-needed shower.
Last week a cluster of earthquakes hit the Niigata area in northern Japan. The deadliest since the Great Kobe quake of 1992, 31 people were counted dead, several hundred injured and many thousands more are now homeless. The train lines are buckled and the highways are crushed. As residents struggle to find protection from the bitterly cold nights, municipal shelters are filled beyond capacity. Many people who have taken to sleeping in their cars have become prime candidates for "economy-class syndrome," in which immobility and lack of space lead to muscle cramps, high blood pressure, blood clots and possibly death. Tokyo did nothing besides pre-empt the laughably named "Golden Hour" programming block of miserable, Friday night TV.
Because of the unusually high amounts of rain that fell this summer, the nuts and berries that make up the bulk of the average black bear diet have been unavailable. Leading bears to forage for food in human towns. And as people have tried to confront the bears, a number of attacks have occurred. But in general, the bears have only been attacking the weak and the stupid who live in mountainous, rural regions.
So to sum up: The country bumpkins are taking it on the chin, but we hip, sophisticated city-dwellers are doing just fine.
For now.
24 October 2004
Swine!
Thompson was right about the Nixon, Carter, Reagan, Bush and Clinton elections. Has he got the line again?
29 September 2004
28 September 2004
I must be hallucinating or something...
I've been asked to try and make my classes "more fun and less serious" by the Japanese teachers who feel completely incapable of approaching me in English, Japanese, crude pictograms, or interpretive dance. Given that I have no actual curriculum, and am prohibited from using things like phonics or written materials (in English or Japanese as some of the kids are scared of reading), all I really can do is try to play games in English that the students will make no effort to understand as their teachers will, if they deign to show up, immediately translate everything into Japanese for them, and encourage them to pronounce words like Charlie fucking Chan.
So I'm left to "teach" these kids something in 35 minutes that they'll remember for six weeks so I can try and build on it for next time and still make it "a fun chance to experience English while lessening the fear of a foreign language and increasing international understanding."
I feel like I'm trying to build a wall out of pickled eggs. It's a pointless mess that just winds up making your eyes sting from all the vinegar fumes.
But replace "vinegar fumes" with "mind-bending incompetency of my managers and inattainable goals of the Minstry of education" and "your eyes sting" with "the bile rise in your gorge."
So I'm left to "teach" these kids something in 35 minutes that they'll remember for six weeks so I can try and build on it for next time and still make it "a fun chance to experience English while lessening the fear of a foreign language and increasing international understanding."
I feel like I'm trying to build a wall out of pickled eggs. It's a pointless mess that just winds up making your eyes sting from all the vinegar fumes.
But replace "vinegar fumes" with "mind-bending incompetency of my managers and inattainable goals of the Minstry of education" and "your eyes sting" with "the bile rise in your gorge."
24 September 2004
Everything old is new again...
09 September 2004
Another carnivorous robot? Ahem. "YAAAAAHHH!"
Sure, this seems like a good idea now. It isn't that long ago some clever fellows gave us the Slug-bot, another little doozy of an automaton.
Really, what disturbs me the most is the thought that by the time the robots are well designed enough to weed out the slower, weaker, stupider parts of the human race I'll probably be one of those old, slow members of the herd.
Which is not to say that I'm really in favor of eugenics as much as I want to go on record as saying "meat-eating is generally pretty cool, but it becomes scary when you remember that people can be meat too."
Really, what disturbs me the most is the thought that by the time the robots are well designed enough to weed out the slower, weaker, stupider parts of the human race I'll probably be one of those old, slow members of the herd.
Which is not to say that I'm really in favor of eugenics as much as I want to go on record as saying "meat-eating is generally pretty cool, but it becomes scary when you remember that people can be meat too."
27 August 2004
"Look kids, Big Ben, Parliment!"
I went to London last week. Because, you know, when you're not really getting paid for a month, the best thing to do is go on a vacation out of the country to a place where a flat, room-temperature beer will set you back $7.50. But it's been a hell of a lot of fun being here.
In all honesty, there's something very relaxing about being a foreigner in London as opposed to Japan. It seems unfortunate that it makes sense to me in this way, but it's got a lot to do with race. In Tokyo, the percentage of the population that is "not of Japanese ancestry1" is something like .5%, and that number is primarily made up of people from China, Korea, and other nearby Asian countries. Which means a person like me, who doesn't really have any of the outward expressions of the stereotypical Asian phenotype, tends to stand out. And be stared at. And avoided on trains with an expression of mild fear. Now, I know that's to be expected. Most folks fear what they don't understand, and you can't really understand something if you've only got a 1 in 200 chance of meeting it.
But it gets a little tiresome being something that people go out of their way not to look at, unless they think you can't see them or they're really drunk or something.
But in London there's enough brown people2 of all shades and shapes for one more not to be a novelty. Here it's possible to be foreign without being a freak. And that almost makes the cramped subways, dangerous buses, stinking sewers, bad television and warm, flat beer seem charming.
But not the mushy peas. There's only so much a reasonable man3 can overlook.
1 Which is a backwards way of saying "foreigners what wasn't born there, and who also thems that was was born there, but whose parents or granparents wasn't Japanese but were Korean or something else that ain't Japanese and therefore aren't like natives." 'Cause your family might have been in Japan since the 1800s, but if you aren't listed in a Japanese family registry as Japanese, you simply aren't counted.
2 When I say "brown people," I just mean people who have different combinations of melanin in their skins from the Caucasian standard. So it's everyone except the honkies, haystacks, Mr. Charlies, white devils, gwei-lo, haoles, pinko-greys and WASPs. Funny. Saying all that didn't make me feel any better.
3 "Reasonable" being a guy who would footnote his otherwise casual and off-the-cuff comments. Riiiiight.
In all honesty, there's something very relaxing about being a foreigner in London as opposed to Japan. It seems unfortunate that it makes sense to me in this way, but it's got a lot to do with race. In Tokyo, the percentage of the population that is "not of Japanese ancestry1" is something like .5%, and that number is primarily made up of people from China, Korea, and other nearby Asian countries. Which means a person like me, who doesn't really have any of the outward expressions of the stereotypical Asian phenotype, tends to stand out. And be stared at. And avoided on trains with an expression of mild fear. Now, I know that's to be expected. Most folks fear what they don't understand, and you can't really understand something if you've only got a 1 in 200 chance of meeting it.
But it gets a little tiresome being something that people go out of their way not to look at, unless they think you can't see them or they're really drunk or something.
But in London there's enough brown people2 of all shades and shapes for one more not to be a novelty. Here it's possible to be foreign without being a freak. And that almost makes the cramped subways, dangerous buses, stinking sewers, bad television and warm, flat beer seem charming.
But not the mushy peas. There's only so much a reasonable man3 can overlook.
1 Which is a backwards way of saying "foreigners what wasn't born there, and who also thems that was was born there, but whose parents or granparents wasn't Japanese but were Korean or something else that ain't Japanese and therefore aren't like natives." 'Cause your family might have been in Japan since the 1800s, but if you aren't listed in a Japanese family registry as Japanese, you simply aren't counted.
2 When I say "brown people," I just mean people who have different combinations of melanin in their skins from the Caucasian standard. So it's everyone except the honkies, haystacks, Mr. Charlies, white devils, gwei-lo, haoles, pinko-greys and WASPs. Funny. Saying all that didn't make me feel any better.
3 "Reasonable" being a guy who would footnote his otherwise casual and off-the-cuff comments. Riiiiight.
14 August 2004
That's it? 100 posts? Really?
Kinda sad, huh? Two and a half years, and I'm just getting to 100. Given my recent rate, I must've been pretty serious about this when I started. Of course, some of the things I really wanted to remember and tell you about, you know, waaaay back in 2002, may be starting to lose their luster.
Perhaps it's time to try something new. What'd John Cleese say in that Monty Python sketch when he was trying to rob a bank but'd gone into a lingerie store instead? "Adopt, adapt, improve." So, er, gimme some bras and a couple of thongs.
No, not really. But it is time to do something besides bitch about, well, damn near everything. Maybe a new job? Or a new hobby? Hell, maybe I should update the layout and re-name this page. Any suggestions?
Last time "Tokyo Vigilante #1" was the only suggestion I got. By the way, thanks Warren.
Perhaps it's time to try something new. What'd John Cleese say in that Monty Python sketch when he was trying to rob a bank but'd gone into a lingerie store instead? "Adopt, adapt, improve." So, er, gimme some bras and a couple of thongs.
No, not really. But it is time to do something besides bitch about, well, damn near everything. Maybe a new job? Or a new hobby? Hell, maybe I should update the layout and re-name this page. Any suggestions?
Last time "Tokyo Vigilante #1" was the only suggestion I got. By the way, thanks Warren.
09 August 2004
Has it been two months already?
I've heard that black-hole type gravity and near-light speeds can bend time. Having neither Stephen Hawking's imagination, Albert Einstein's insight, nor a betamax on which to play my copy of The Black Hole, I can only speculate. However, I can say that Tokyo's heat, humidity, and mind-crushing mob mentality can also make time move slower in some places.
Imagine getting on a train car with about fifty more people than the recommended maximum capacity, then stopping in the sun between stations while something that is never fully identified holds up traffic. Suicide? Earthquake? Ninjas fighting demons? You don't need to know. You can just wait there while the air conditioning, which runs the whole time the train is running, doesn't run. Finally get to the station, your suit is now re-pressed with a much more interesting series of batik-inspired patterns, and you can try to get through the 90 degree, 80% humidity to your office. Where your dickweed manager is bitching out someone else for changing clothes at work.
Sorry. It's summer vacation for elementary schools here, which means that I have almost 6 weeks off. Imagine, six whole weeks off... no lesson preparation, no stupid meetings to verify my lesson preparation for the next week, no questions about how tall I am, and no pay at all. So I gotta get back to doing the conversation school again. Which wouldn't be so bad except they neglected to input my schedule today. Which means I'm out my transportation fee, the day's projected earnings and I'll have to get this shirt laundered after wearing it on the train. Hoo-hah. If it wasn't for my brother's recent visit or getting to see my girlfriend again recently, I'd be one deeply unhappy young man.
Not that I'm fixing to go all Columbine-post-office-John-Hickley out here.
Besides, these kids are just as messed up as kids anywhere else.
No. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.
The question is what? By who?
And to whom?
Imagine getting on a train car with about fifty more people than the recommended maximum capacity, then stopping in the sun between stations while something that is never fully identified holds up traffic. Suicide? Earthquake? Ninjas fighting demons? You don't need to know. You can just wait there while the air conditioning, which runs the whole time the train is running, doesn't run. Finally get to the station, your suit is now re-pressed with a much more interesting series of batik-inspired patterns, and you can try to get through the 90 degree, 80% humidity to your office. Where your dickweed manager is bitching out someone else for changing clothes at work.
Sorry. It's summer vacation for elementary schools here, which means that I have almost 6 weeks off. Imagine, six whole weeks off... no lesson preparation, no stupid meetings to verify my lesson preparation for the next week, no questions about how tall I am, and no pay at all. So I gotta get back to doing the conversation school again. Which wouldn't be so bad except they neglected to input my schedule today. Which means I'm out my transportation fee, the day's projected earnings and I'll have to get this shirt laundered after wearing it on the train. Hoo-hah. If it wasn't for my brother's recent visit or getting to see my girlfriend again recently, I'd be one deeply unhappy young man.
Not that I'm fixing to go all Columbine-post-office-John-Hickley out here.
Besides, these kids are just as messed up as kids anywhere else.
No. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.
The question is what? By who?
And to whom?
09 June 2004
Spectator sports?
Been busy, as usual. Nothing really special to report lately, beyond some standard interpersonal drama that I was only tangentially related to.
I did go to Gifu prefecture (about 2 1/2 hours west of Tokyo by bullet train) last weekend to visit a friend and see the traditional art/industry of Cormorant fishing. As a UNESCO-recognized "indigenous cultural treasure," it's not a bad way to spend an evening drinking beer with your friends. The whole point is supposed to be using these half tame water birds (called "Cormorants") on leashes and choke-chains to catch little sweetfish (called "ayu") by torchlight. Really, few things are as absurdly relaxing as taking an evening cruise on a warm summer night, drinking and eating with your friends, and watching a man in a grass skirt force a riverbird to cough up a fistfull of live fish by the light of a roaring wood fire suspended in an iron basket from the prow of a 18-foot boat.
I did go to Gifu prefecture (about 2 1/2 hours west of Tokyo by bullet train) last weekend to visit a friend and see the traditional art/industry of Cormorant fishing. As a UNESCO-recognized "indigenous cultural treasure," it's not a bad way to spend an evening drinking beer with your friends. The whole point is supposed to be using these half tame water birds (called "Cormorants") on leashes and choke-chains to catch little sweetfish (called "ayu") by torchlight. Really, few things are as absurdly relaxing as taking an evening cruise on a warm summer night, drinking and eating with your friends, and watching a man in a grass skirt force a riverbird to cough up a fistfull of live fish by the light of a roaring wood fire suspended in an iron basket from the prow of a 18-foot boat.
29 May 2004
Definite improvement in language use...
About five months ago, one of my private students told me she wanted to meet after work in Kawagoe to have the lesson over dinner. I was thinking "she's already paid my trainfare to Wakaba, so it'll save me 15 minutes riding."
So she suggested an izakaya, because she'd said she liked drinking. I figure teaching buzzed has got to be easier than teaching hungover, so we got some drinks.
No matter what tack to begin the lesson I tried, she was fidgety and distracted. And finally when we got to "what are your plans for the new wear?" she chugged down her drink, looked me in the eye and said "Maybe, I'm wanting to stop taking the lessons."
Yeah, she invited me out to a "you're dumped"dinner. She'd even practiced an "it's not you it's me" speech in English. I was so proud of her. Last year she was struggling with simple past. But she managed "If my life has changes, I'll call you maybe."
So she suggested an izakaya, because she'd said she liked drinking. I figure teaching buzzed has got to be easier than teaching hungover, so we got some drinks.
No matter what tack to begin the lesson I tried, she was fidgety and distracted. And finally when we got to "what are your plans for the new wear?" she chugged down her drink, looked me in the eye and said "Maybe, I'm wanting to stop taking the lessons."
Yeah, she invited me out to a "you're dumped"dinner. She'd even practiced an "it's not you it's me" speech in English. I was so proud of her. Last year she was struggling with simple past. But she managed "If my life has changes, I'll call you maybe."
24 May 2004
For $500: "Commodore Perry landed there and introduced Japan to American diplomacy over the barrels of some very large cannons."
So after, like, eleven months of just skulking around the Tokyo-Saitama Metroplex, suddenly I've gone to Yamanashi, Kagoshima, and now Shimoda. All within, like, a month.
Shimoda's nice, by the way. But don't let an overly genki Japanese student plan the trip for you and your coworkers. Otherwise you'll wind up with both karaoke and Japan's fifth most well-attended dolphin show on your itinerary.
By the way, the answer is "What is Shimoda, Japan?" I'll take "Strange Breakfast Fishy Stuff" for $200, Alex.
Shimoda's nice, by the way. But don't let an overly genki Japanese student plan the trip for you and your coworkers. Otherwise you'll wind up with both karaoke and Japan's fifth most well-attended dolphin show on your itinerary.
By the way, the answer is "What is Shimoda, Japan?" I'll take "Strange Breakfast Fishy Stuff" for $200, Alex.
25 April 2004
I have new respect for Karla
Last time I had checked in with y'all was a couple weeks ago, and I was (in case you can't recall or can't be bothered to read the previous post) complaing about the prospect of having to go and teach elementary school. Most of my experience up to now has been in teaching students with more years having had mastered toilet training than not. But as it turns out the kids are the least of my complaints.
And given that most of them are right around crotch height and fairly reckless with other people's anatomy, that's saying a lot.
Nah, what's really got my blood up is that I'm being shuffled around between 6 elementary schools. Since I've been reassigned to Chiyoda ward, a school disctrict that's been experimenting with english education in elementary schools for about three years now.
Which is all well and good, but since I'm spending one week out of six in each school, and forty minutes per week with each class, I'll see each kid about five times in a year. Just the thing for building a rapport with the little crumb-catchers. No, seriously. In general, those kids are so frigging cute I wanna say something less than sarcastic about them.
But I can't. So I'll include a link to some W.C. Fields quotes about children instead. Here.
Where was I? Oh yeah. The kids are fine, but I have to change schools every damn week. And since the schools want to get maximum use out of their new English machine (that'd be yours truly), I'm generally teaching 4 to 6 periods a day, out of a maximum of six possible periods.
Once again, I'm tired.
I have no idea how this particular role model has done it day in and day out for the last year and change. I fully expect a return to binge drinking and howling at strangers who talk in movies for myself.
Okay. That's enough self pity. Take a look at these instead...
Florida scholars?
Osaka teacher?
Japanese students make comics in English
And given that most of them are right around crotch height and fairly reckless with other people's anatomy, that's saying a lot.
Nah, what's really got my blood up is that I'm being shuffled around between 6 elementary schools. Since I've been reassigned to Chiyoda ward, a school disctrict that's been experimenting with english education in elementary schools for about three years now.
Which is all well and good, but since I'm spending one week out of six in each school, and forty minutes per week with each class, I'll see each kid about five times in a year. Just the thing for building a rapport with the little crumb-catchers. No, seriously. In general, those kids are so frigging cute I wanna say something less than sarcastic about them.
But I can't. So I'll include a link to some W.C. Fields quotes about children instead. Here.
Where was I? Oh yeah. The kids are fine, but I have to change schools every damn week. And since the schools want to get maximum use out of their new English machine (that'd be yours truly), I'm generally teaching 4 to 6 periods a day, out of a maximum of six possible periods.
Once again, I'm tired.
I have no idea how this particular role model has done it day in and day out for the last year and change. I fully expect a return to binge drinking and howling at strangers who talk in movies for myself.
Okay. That's enough self pity. Take a look at these instead...
Florida scholars?
Osaka teacher?
Japanese students make comics in English
20 April 2004
Call Tech Support!
Damnnation, I need to get my computer fixed. It�s not like I�ve even got an internet hook up in my apartment, but it�s really not worth going all the way to the internet caf� to type these up. Not that I don�t value my correspondence with you all. It�s just, er, there�s other things I�m choosing to spend my time on these days. Like A People� s History of the United States by Howard Zinn. Or my search for the best ramen in Ikebukuro. (Can�t read it? Too bad. Me neither. Ha ha ha.) Or seeing a young woman of singular attraction.
Hoo-hah!
Hoo-hah!
07 April 2004
I must be hallucinating or something...
My new supervisor is an Alaska-born-1/5-Chippewa/Cree-Native-American-mix named "Angus" who looks EXACTLY like Samwise Gamgee from Lord of The Rings. And he was sitting opposite a Japanese accountant who looked like a criminally deranged John Malkovitch.
There's a lot of weird looking people working in education here.
There's a lot of weird looking people working in education here.
18 March 2004
Depth or Surface Area?
One thing that I have come to understand about Japan is that it's modern society was forcibly bent into shape by the triumphant US Army circa 1947. There's 2300 years of history and tradition here, but that's become the base material for the bastard child of pre-cold war, market-based-democracy that has become the setting for life here.
"What the hell does that have to do with you?" you may ask. As an assistant teacher hired by a private company and subcontracted out to work at public junior high schools, for me it may as well be the weather to a farmer or astroturf to a pro ball player.
The board of education chooses which company to lease foreign ALTs based on a number of criteria: availabilty, experience, recommendation, staff profiles,
As it turned out, my current posting was due to a contract that was recently underbid by a company that specializes in 6-8 person lessons for adults. To supply ALTs for Junior high kids. In classes of 36-42. This company wanted the prestige of supplying ALTs to Saitama prefecture, so they bid below the cost of teacher salaries.
So next month I get to look for another job, or else trust my current bosses to relocate me. Which they claim to be able to do.
In Elementary school and kindergarden.
Realize that I am a 6'4" man with a sense of humor best described as "dark." "twisted" or "malicious." And I will be expected to teach English to tiny humans who can not yet speak their own language.
And how did this come to pass? An inefficient beauracracy installed by an inattentive electorate to try and sort out an atavistic "free market" in which the rules are set by people who make their living bending the law into worse shapes than a Thai sex performer and are then rewarded for squeezing a profit out of any public organ they can get a clammy, scabies ridden hand around.
But maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'll have a great time teaching animal names and potty training. And maybe companies like AEON, Nova and Interac are actually interested in the education of children.
And maybe I shouldn't read so much Hunter S. Thompson when I'm already casting around for a way to describe an ugly situation.
"What the hell does that have to do with you?" you may ask. As an assistant teacher hired by a private company and subcontracted out to work at public junior high schools, for me it may as well be the weather to a farmer or astroturf to a pro ball player.
The board of education chooses which company to lease foreign ALTs based on a number of criteria: availabilty, experience, recommendation, staff profiles,
money
and how chummy you are with the board of directors.As it turned out, my current posting was due to a contract that was recently underbid by a company that specializes in 6-8 person lessons for adults. To supply ALTs for Junior high kids. In classes of 36-42. This company wanted the prestige of supplying ALTs to Saitama prefecture, so they bid below the cost of teacher salaries.
So next month I get to look for another job, or else trust my current bosses to relocate me. Which they claim to be able to do.
In Elementary school and kindergarden.
Realize that I am a 6'4" man with a sense of humor best described as "dark." "twisted" or "malicious." And I will be expected to teach English to tiny humans who can not yet speak their own language.
And how did this come to pass? An inefficient beauracracy installed by an inattentive electorate to try and sort out an atavistic "free market" in which the rules are set by people who make their living bending the law into worse shapes than a Thai sex performer and are then rewarded for squeezing a profit out of any public organ they can get a clammy, scabies ridden hand around.
But maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'll have a great time teaching animal names and potty training. And maybe companies like AEON, Nova and Interac are actually interested in the education of children.
And maybe I shouldn't read so much Hunter S. Thompson when I'm already casting around for a way to describe an ugly situation.
02 March 2004
From the Athens of legend to this? Eh, it's not THAT far off...
This hasn't been a good month for my sense of patriotism.
After finishing the "People's History" of the US (Zinn, great book), "Fast Food Nation" (Eric Shlosser, also excellent), and following what's passing for a presidential campaign, well, the thought of what passes for "America" turns my stomach. I wonder why people aren't trying to blow up embassies or fly planes into buildings or just howling in the streets. Then I remember that there's still a tiny bit of carrot on the end of the stick, and I guess that's enough to keep us dumb asses plodding on the track.
Rrrr.
I guess that can go in my file down at the office of homeland surveillance. I only recntly found out they can begin an investigation on a citizen based the claim that someone they have TOO LITTLE information on is a possible security risk. But we should accept that Bush doesn't have to account for his 8 month furlough from the national guard to work as
some politico's reelction tool is being pawned off as "noble wartime service" or that Kerry has proven himself to be a legislator capable of always bowing whichever way public opinion polls moved the day before.
It makes me ill to think that a democracy like THAT is the best people can do. Of course, I'm overlooking places like the Netherlands, Denmark and Luxembourg that seem to have found ways to not overtly abuse their citizens, but somehow I get the feeling they'd be just as moderate under monarchy, socialism or IWW-style anarchy.
But I'm rambling, aren't I?
After finishing the "People's History" of the US (Zinn, great book), "Fast Food Nation" (Eric Shlosser, also excellent), and following what's passing for a presidential campaign, well, the thought of what passes for "America" turns my stomach. I wonder why people aren't trying to blow up embassies or fly planes into buildings or just howling in the streets. Then I remember that there's still a tiny bit of carrot on the end of the stick, and I guess that's enough to keep us dumb asses plodding on the track.
Rrrr.
I guess that can go in my file down at the office of homeland surveillance. I only recntly found out they can begin an investigation on a citizen based the claim that someone they have TOO LITTLE information on is a possible security risk. But we should accept that Bush doesn't have to account for his 8 month furlough from the national guard to work as
some politico's reelction tool is being pawned off as "noble wartime service" or that Kerry has proven himself to be a legislator capable of always bowing whichever way public opinion polls moved the day before.
It makes me ill to think that a democracy like THAT is the best people can do. Of course, I'm overlooking places like the Netherlands, Denmark and Luxembourg that seem to have found ways to not overtly abuse their citizens, but somehow I get the feeling they'd be just as moderate under monarchy, socialism or IWW-style anarchy.
But I'm rambling, aren't I?
01 February 2004
Did I Mention Underwear Again?
| I've been meaning to write for a while, but things have been really freaking busy. And I don't mean to use "freaking" as a nice euphemism for "fucking." I mean things have been busy in a way that caused previously abnormal behavior to appear normal, acceptable and even desirable. By way of example, let me explain something about my night job... | |
| In order to increase "international competitiveness" (or maybe just to hand out a little pork-barrel largesse), the Japanese government subsidizes the fees for certain kinds of English language classes. If a school has a certain certification, presumably of the qualifications to teach people the kind of English that would enable them to do something other than just watch English movies (the second most common reason given when asked "why do you study English?"), then some of their students can receive partial refunds of something like 60% of their tuitions. Seeing as how the average English Conversation School can demand a $150 "membership fee" that'll get you the privilege to have them sell you their textbooks (at around $200 a pop) and charge you their class fees (to be in a four to eight person class for 50 minutes? Try $75 plus tax and up), you quickly get the sense that some kind of rebate starts to look like a pretty good idea. So, if a school can qualify for this certification, they can attract a whole bunch of business-types who otherwise would never bother coughing up a whole pile of dough to learn to speak a language most of them won't get a chance to practice outside of class anyway. | (Honestly, apart from the relative few who have to work in foreign-owned companies, most of these students are either using written English for e-mail and faxes or else are trying to prepare for an overseas vacation in a couple of months. Despite 6 to 10 years of English lessons in school, these folks aren't able to speak English well because they don't have to use it. Ever.) |
Now, in order to qualify for this rebate, the students have to do a little something too. First off, they have to be ostensibly be working. Beyond that, they oughta have a job that needs english. Like a secretary at a company that sells car parts overseas. Or a researcher at a foreign-owned pharmaceutical company. Or a fireman.
Yeah, I didn't get that one either.
Anyway, once these students are all qualified, they have to complete their textbook within 10 months of their starting the class. Why 10 months? I have no idea. And what if they don't attend more than 80% of their classes within 10 months? What if they're not smart enough to finish in 10 months?
Zanen desu kedo, shikata ga nai.
Which brings us back to my job. Because I work in a place that claims to offer more flexible lessons, students can try book a class anytime they feel like coming in, and then the manager will try to move teachers in to meet those times with the highest demands.
Honestly, would you have imagined that so many of the hardworking, industrious, punctual Japanese would have put off so many of their lessons until the last three weeks before the rebate deadline?
Yeah, I wouldn't have thought so either, but there it is. If you're already working a 11+ hour day, with a 40 to 90 minute commute each way, it's pretty easy to let that twice-weekly lesson slide for two or three or fifteen weeks. So now the managers at my school are asking all teachers to work as many extra shifts as possible to help ensure that all these people will be able to get their classes finished, qualify for their refunds, and enable the school to keep it's certification so they can keep offering the rebate-type classes.
So, uh, yeah. I've been really busy. For the last couple weeks it's seemed normal to say "Yes, I usually don't work on Saturday afternoon. No, just the afternoon." It's not been unusual to see the same teachers and the same students for four consecutive days, and each time to have to ask "So, how are you? What have you been doing lately?" It's been acceptable to wash and hang up clothes at 12:15 AM because you're not going to be home between 6:45 and 11:50 for the next five days and you're wearing that 2nd to last pair of shorts that mean it's time to do laundry.
Man. I'm tired.
23 January 2004
Taxing, Crabby Confessions III
In the last week I met, face to face, two different people after finding out they'd been reading this. One lives in America, one in Japan. One I'd never met before, one I'd known for a while. Suddenly that whole honnae/tatemae is starting to make more sense from a first hand perspective.
Usually, I try to write this like I was either transcribing an internal monologue or telling a story over a drink in my favorite bar. You know, that one bar where I feel really comfortable because I don't have to worry about acting cool to pick up girls because everyone is just there to relax. But generally here the only major concession I'm making to public appearance here is tone down my raving anti-Presbyterian sentiments to avoid charges of religious discrimination. Lousy Council of Presbie Elders... they'll only be able to keep controlling international grain export markets as long as decent citizens like you and me willingly blind ourselves to their sinister plans. It's always been about the bread, dammit...
...Anyway, the point I really wanted to make was that perhaps my carefully orchestrated, teflon-coated internet persona has been breached again. Maybe there's a whole bunch of people running around who've read this and having a good chuckle thinking that they know what I think, and they think I don't know that they know. You know?
So, in the spirit of the new year and new beginnings, I'm going to embrace a new policy of openness and honesty. I'm just going to lay all my cards on the table and tell you all my deepest thoughts and feelings.
Wow. I sure feel better. It's like a big weight has been lifted off of my chest knowing I don't have to keep all that secret anymore. 'Cause really, that's everything that I've been holding back. Really.
Usually, I try to write this like I was either transcribing an internal monologue or telling a story over a drink in my favorite bar. You know, that one bar where I feel really comfortable because I don't have to worry about acting cool to pick up girls because everyone is just there to relax. But generally here the only major concession I'm making to public appearance here is tone down my raving anti-Presbyterian sentiments to avoid charges of religious discrimination. Lousy Council of Presbie Elders... they'll only be able to keep controlling international grain export markets as long as decent citizens like you and me willingly blind ourselves to their sinister plans. It's always been about the bread, dammit...
...Anyway, the point I really wanted to make was that perhaps my carefully orchestrated, teflon-coated internet persona has been breached again. Maybe there's a whole bunch of people running around who've read this and having a good chuckle thinking that they know what I think, and they think I don't know that they know. You know?
So, in the spirit of the new year and new beginnings, I'm going to embrace a new policy of openness and honesty. I'm just going to lay all my cards on the table and tell you all my deepest thoughts and feelings.
The following people can cram it with walnuts:
My manager, Joe
Tokyo Mitsubishi Bank
The Owner of that Damn Rooster next door
The Inventor of the McRib
The Editors of Japanese for Busy People
Dick Cheney
The re-writers of Robocop 3
John Ashcroft
The re-writers of the Daredevil movie
Celine Dion
Whoever made Japanese girls think cute-ness is more important than anything else
Tony Blair (for having no stones)
The re-writers of the Hulk movie
The people who keep reality-TV shows on with their vacuous, sheep-like support
Henry Kissinger
The re-writers of Batman and Robin and Batman Forever
Wow. I sure feel better. It's like a big weight has been lifted off of my chest knowing I don't have to keep all that secret anymore. 'Cause really, that's everything that I've been holding back. Really.
10 January 2004
A Terrible Metaphor
After two years (well, one year, eleven months and 16 days) I had flattered myself into thinking I felt at home in Japan. Admittedly I don't feel that sense of self-loathing when I go to work, that sense of dread when I see the police, or that bile-tinged rage whenever I watch the news. But it took me all of 45 minutes to re-adjust to most of what constitutes the American culture. With the glaring exception of how bloated and overfed and pasty most folks look, anyway.
It was like getting back into a battered, worn old pair of cotton boxer shorts. Sure, it wasn't glamorous, and there was a part on the waistband where the elastic was coming out and pinching me everytime I stood up, and the seams are starting to fray on the sides and leave little strings all over the other clothes in the wash. But putting them on was effortless.
Japan, on the other hand, is more like, uh, going commando (that'd be, er, going out in the field with no support). Sure, you can tell yourself its more natural, but it takes longer to get used to an, uh, unfurnished basement. And you have to be a lot more careful in the bathroom, especially with zippers.
All of which is to say that, uh, being in Japan isn't like wearing no underwear, but it's not far off, sometimes.
It was like getting back into a battered, worn old pair of cotton boxer shorts. Sure, it wasn't glamorous, and there was a part on the waistband where the elastic was coming out and pinching me everytime I stood up, and the seams are starting to fray on the sides and leave little strings all over the other clothes in the wash. But putting them on was effortless.
Japan, on the other hand, is more like, uh, going commando (that'd be, er, going out in the field with no support). Sure, you can tell yourself its more natural, but it takes longer to get used to an, uh, unfurnished basement. And you have to be a lot more careful in the bathroom, especially with zippers.
All of which is to say that, uh, being in Japan isn't like wearing no underwear, but it's not far off, sometimes.
02 January 2004
If wishes were fishes, uh, we'd all have more fish. I guess.
Last year around this time, if you haven't been with me that long, I was in kind of an odd spot. See, I was spending New Year's with my cousin's wife's family outside of Osaka. I was going to lose my job and my apartment in about two weeks time, and was having a little bit of trouble getting into the holiday spirit.
By the way, as near as I can tell, the holiday spirit in Japan seems to have two parts. First, obnoxious Xmas songs are played in every public place for six weeks to get everyone ready for the day in which happy young couples plan for a romantic evening together in which they eat Christmas Cake and exchange tokens of affection/consumerist status. And if you have no sweetheart for the big day? Boy, there must be something wrong with you. Christmas is like Valentine's Day, but with worse music.
Oh yeah. New Year's, the second part, is considerably more important. There are a bunch of ceremonies and rituals that are intended to welcome the new year in auspicious fashion. And I guess one of the big deals is the first trip of the year to a shrine.
Generally I like to keep my distance from organized religion. Maybe I haven't done enough research, but I've never heard of any group of agnostics calling for a holy war, crusade, jihad, stoning or witch-burning. In fact, I've certainly spent more time on Sundays watching The Simpsons than I've ever spent in church. But I digress. The point is, last year I figured a trip to the shrine to make a new year's wish certainly couldn't hurt.
Since my primary problem was a financial one, I figured I ought to make a simple wish. But I thought I was talking to one of those gods who only "helps those who help themselves." So I figured I'd make one of those wanky puritan style wishes.
Look, I was desperate. Impending homelessness and the end of my steady paycheck had me more than a little desperate. And it really did seem like a good idea at the time.
If it had been a movie, that moment in January 2003 would have been an awful case of ironic foreshadowing. Seriously. Did you every know anyone to truly want to work? But I got my wish... In spades or bushels or metric fuck-loads.
Did I work just a little too much in 2003? C'mon, does the pope shit in the woods?
This year, however, I'm gonna set my sights a little bit higher. This year I want success and satisfaction and respect. For a change.
Or a weekend on the beach with a naughty British girl, a bottle of salad oil and a big old bowl of phad thai.
Sweeeeeet. Happy 2004.
By the way, as near as I can tell, the holiday spirit in Japan seems to have two parts. First, obnoxious Xmas songs are played in every public place for six weeks to get everyone ready for the day in which happy young couples plan for a romantic evening together in which they eat Christmas Cake and exchange tokens of affection/consumerist status. And if you have no sweetheart for the big day? Boy, there must be something wrong with you. Christmas is like Valentine's Day, but with worse music.
Oh yeah. New Year's, the second part, is considerably more important. There are a bunch of ceremonies and rituals that are intended to welcome the new year in auspicious fashion. And I guess one of the big deals is the first trip of the year to a shrine.
Generally I like to keep my distance from organized religion. Maybe I haven't done enough research, but I've never heard of any group of agnostics calling for a holy war, crusade, jihad, stoning or witch-burning. In fact, I've certainly spent more time on Sundays watching The Simpsons than I've ever spent in church. But I digress. The point is, last year I figured a trip to the shrine to make a new year's wish certainly couldn't hurt.
Since my primary problem was a financial one, I figured I ought to make a simple wish. But I thought I was talking to one of those gods who only "helps those who help themselves." So I figured I'd make one of those wanky puritan style wishes.
"Lemme get work this year. Please."
Look, I was desperate. Impending homelessness and the end of my steady paycheck had me more than a little desperate. And it really did seem like a good idea at the time.
If it had been a movie, that moment in January 2003 would have been an awful case of ironic foreshadowing. Seriously. Did you every know anyone to truly want to work? But I got my wish... In spades or bushels or metric fuck-loads.
Did I work just a little too much in 2003? C'mon, does the pope shit in the woods?
This year, however, I'm gonna set my sights a little bit higher. This year I want success and satisfaction and respect. For a change.
Or a weekend on the beach with a naughty British girl, a bottle of salad oil and a big old bowl of phad thai.
Sweeeeeet. Happy 2004.
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