Now when I write Japan seems less strange… which is strange.

Now when I write, Japan seems less strange… which is strange.

September 15th until September 21st

“I was looking at his myspace … so … his space?”
Yumi’s incredible English never ceases to amaze me. This month she told me I was the “only gaijin she trusts”… which felt less Donnie Brasco and more kindly and sincere in person. Dinners with her have become less “dinner with my Japanese friend who speaks really good English” and more “dinner with my amazing friend.” For that I am thankful.

In other news at Honjo Jr. High School, Mr. Notani (noted Japanese teacher of English/live-action cartoon) is also a secret opera singer. He practiced singing with some of the students for the up-and-coming culture festival and nobody could hold back their amusement for his strange yet carrying vocal abilities. When a 3rd year finally said “Notani-sensei, umai!” (Mr. Notani, you the bomb-diggity) it was settled.

These days my incredible abilities as a dusty AET have increased to that of a pronunciation coach, which I so enjoy. Correcting the r/l/th/d/t sounds is my true calling, surely. However, it’s nice to get to know my misfit 3rd years at Ine a little more as I coach them for their 暗唱 (recitations, I think) at their culture festival. I can see the absurdity wash over their face as they pronounce “man” (like Stan) instead of “man” (like fawn). But you know what? THAT’S JUST HOW ENGLISH IS DEAL WITH IT. Kaai has proven to be a fun person to coach yet again for this year’s recitation contest. She really GETS what she’s saying and takes direction well. She is really a fabulous kid, and I hope she gets to travel extensively after working so hard in school so she can practice her English and have European love affairs!

As for my own participation in the Culture Festival this year, it fortunately involves NO KIMONO and NO SELF-INTRODUCTION. If I have my way, I will never wear a kimono again. That aside, I have compiled a large poster of a years work of my shuji from my first calligraphy attempts like 日本(Japan) to my latest attempts like 運転免許(driver's license) ／紫陽花 (hydrangea) etc. They look OK. At Ine JHS I am being forced to participate in the teacher’s 劇 (geki, or play). I have two lines in Japanese and I play the fisherman’s wife (the fisherman being played by the aging science teacher, what a catch!) I think I’d probably rather die than be in this play, but I suppose deep down it’s nice to be included. (That’s a lie.)

The later I stay for these recitation contest, recitation practice, teacher play practice, busy-in-general afternoons… I start to really wonder, “do these students ever go home?” The answer is no. Home is the enemy. Spare time is for communists. Family love and time spent together bred the Holocaust. Thank the kami-sama the Japanese know better. That only sounds bitter because it was written bitterly.

Adding to that, I am a bit bitter. Not in an actual way, but in a way that most 2nd year AETs probably get. There’s only so much time you can spend in Japanese countryside saying “wow Japanese culture is SO DIFFERENT – they eat so much seaweed and rice and they take their shoes off OFTEN! And look how small and cute they are and how hard they work!” Yeaaaah that’s so over. The droning, grizzled “good morning” in the office… the busy-bee teachers what swarm around me, the unknowing, uncaring (OVER-PAID) English fixture in the corner. The pay is starting to feel heavy with guilt. So very heavy. But knowing that I want to do a good job helps and knowing that I want to go on to do this as a real job and not a made-up half-job is inspiring as well. Soon enough, Rachel, soon enough.

The bitterness was interrupted when I was slicing up paper to make elementary school karuta (a game where kids smack each other in the face to win stickers) and a suzumebachi (big EFFING bee) flew through the window and into my face. I was physically thrown back. I think they weigh as much as a tonka truck and are a bit more frightening to be hit in the face by. I survived, and I think the giant bee did as well. Good times. You know, cuz it could have killed me. This brings me onto my next bug story – the biggest moth ever. I can’t believe how large moths can grow. I had one much larger than my hand land on my porch window. I wish I had taken a picture because it was totally awesome to look at. I also have no idea how it got through SPIDER VILLAGE™ (蜘蛛村) that was secretly built outside my 2nd story porch when I least expected it. At least 5 giant spiders live out there and their webs cascade like a mosquito net of terror across my balconey. I should start charging admission or rent or something. Mooching spiders.

Other than that, things like sports festival, hanging out in Yagi and up in Ine with people, playing dominoes, drinking a lot of rum, and enjoying the new bed that I finally bought have been good additions to my life this month. I apologize, I think that was the longest sentence ever.

Compiling and distributing the Ganbatte Times (a newsletter for the JET people in the prefecture) has given me something to do during my spare time at school or at home. I’m pretty excited about it being a monthly item on my ‘to-do’ list. I am even more excited that high-speed internet is coming to my small town in December.

FINALLY. FI-NA-LLY. OH. MY. GOD. I won’t even go into how much of me has died without the capability to communicate over video chat, watch movies/TV online, or do anything that I had become accustomed to in my last decade spent in the US and Europe. Anyway, yay internet! Let’s hope they are not lying.

That’s all for me. And all for the rice. It has been harvested, now the ground is sad and brown and bracing itself for the cold that we are overdue for. My sweaters are armed and ready.

The Festivals of Culture and the Amazing Suffocation Kimono

This was a week of many small events for me. The first and foremost being the culture festivals (文化祭) for both Ine and Honjo jr. high schools. These festivals represent a month of hard work by students, teachers and parents in all things arts, crafts, and general entertainment. Imagine a junior high school play, choir concert, and art showcase all in one day. And all in Japanese.

Don't get me wrong, my Japanese gets better everyday. However I am not yet adept enough in the language to understand 45 minute plays starring 13 year olds who aren't loud or coherent when they speak. I didn't understand a word of their plays, which was too bad since they were mainly dialog.

The choir sections were more interesting, as songs are generally more universal than plays. The songs were well put together and well sung! It was nice to also see the PTA sing a few songs from childrens' lullabies at Honjo.

The teachers put on their own plays, all involving ridiculous costumes and physical comedy. That was the most enjoyable part for me at both schools. Seeing how hard the teachers work, how late they stay, and how formal they are emphasizes how much fun the NEED to have. So, the play became an outlet of creativity and comedy for them. And it was a good thing too, because I didn't understand what was going on in their plays either! But watching the principal dressed up as a mouse, or the secretary dressed up like a big jolly sunshine, or the nurse dressed up like a goat was the highlight of my month.

The art was interesting too. Still lives of shoes, boats, and the general Ine/Honjo area were fun to look at. Some of the projects were REALLY good! Especially the summer projects which occupied of a month of each students' time (in theory). Some of the students' creations must have taken them a lot of hard work, which I imagine is difficult during summer vacation. Well done to them! My favorite part of the Honjo bunkasai was watching the most attractive boy (by 15 year old standards) in the school receive an award for art, walk down the steps like James Dean, and walk headfirst into a light panel and WIPED OUT. It made a big clang as well. He was totally fine, but it felt like the most humbling experience for the boy I assume is one of the more popular boys in the 30 person school. Poor Yuuta.

During the Honjo bunkasai, I was kidnapped/roped into wearing a kimono. Akiyama-sensei, the nurse, convinced me it would be fun. And wearing a kimono was a lot of fun! But it less the sort of fun a picnic or a water slide might evoke, and more the kind of fun it is to not be able to breathe/walk/have dignity. A kimono is a layering of many beautiful, patterned cloth pieces. It all begins with a slip. Then the towels. The classic Japanese standard of beauty is apparently to look like a roll of paper towels. No curves. So in each of the naturally curvaceous places (the hips, under the bus, above the booty) the wearer will place a small kitchen towel, rolled up, and fastened with a tie. The cylindrical shape is achieved this way. The towels are followed by an underkimono made of a light cotton material. Mine was orange. Then comes the ties to keep this kimono in place. The ties are tied TIGHTLY. I began to miss the full extension of my lungs, which seemed to be struggling to breathe naturally at this point. Then the outer kimono, if my memory serves me correctly. After the fine, thick outer kimono is on, it is time for the obi 'n friends. The obi is an endlessly long, beautiful thick belt that attaches around the kimono. It is tied in a bow on the back of the apparatus/outfit in the final stages of kimono-gussying. However, before the main obi, there are two under-obis and another slimmer tie. There is also a small bean-shaped flat pad that is attached to the front, and a rounded, protruding pad for the back. By the time the obi was tied, I had given up on breathing properly. I could barely move at first. Then, adding the finishing touches to my hair and shoes, I was ready to shuffle like so many Japanese ladies of the court (I assume.)

Japanese women are not naturally graceful as storybooks/sushi restaurants have led me to believe. They simply can't move in kimonos. Their footsteps are small and well placed because there is no other way to MOVE. They don't speak much or out of turn b/c they can't BREATHE. At least I couldn't breathe. Not well.

A barrage of photographs by Akiyama-sensei and a gait much akin to that of a toddler's, I made it to the gym. This was where I realized that I would be the only person in that gym wearing a kimono. Everyone else was in school uniforms, or casual wear. I felt like a dressed up dog. People stared and commented politely. I quickly found my seat and said hi to those around me. I wanted the activities to start so I could stop feeling like the center of attention.

During the opening speeches, I caught the words 'our new AET, Reicheru Suriibani,..." and the knowledge that I would have to shuffle up to the front and give a speech came upon me. So, I hopped up, and waddled gracefully to the microphone. I then introduced myself for the millionth time in Japanese and shuffled back to my seat. If I had had blood circulation, I would have turned purple. Fortunately, I didn't! They love it when I blush though because Japanese people don't do it so much (the flushing of cheeks was outlawed in the Edo period by an autistic Daimyo who disliked the colour pink).

Well, by lunchtime it was about 80 degrees in the gym, and I asked to take off the kimono. They obliged and I was so happy to wear normal clothing for the rest of the day, as it only got hotter in that gym.

After the culture festivals, I ran off to my first kimono lesson. Kumi Yoshida (of the Yoshidas, my family in Tango) lent myself, Desirae and Liz kimonos for the class. We're going to learn about the parts, and how to put them on/take them off/fold them. It's more complicated than you might think. There is a special way to fold EVERYTHING, which I am terrible at. I felt clueless for most of the lesson (it was about 20 Japanese women, all of them more graceful than myself of course). I also felt FAT. As a Caucasian American female in the age group 18-25, I have felt the inadequacies of body image many times before. But I've never felt BIG before. But when the skirt slip of the kimono wouldn't fit around me, and I had to refuse to take off my skirt for fear of showing too much leg in the classroom, I felt so embarrassed. However, I managed to have fun struggling with the under kimono and how to tie a Japanese knot (which is also harder than you'd think!) Liz seemed like a natural! It's so cool to watch her because she is able to pick things up so quickly, which is helpful to me because then she can explain it to me in English. And my Japanese is farther along than hers, so I can help her figure out what we're meant to be doing. It's a process, but it's a really good experience and hopefully in a few months, I won't feel so useless in the midst of the other women.