I felt my first big earthquake the other day. Someone later told me it was above 6.0 on the Richter Scale. I was asleep and woke up to my whole building shaking. I confess I wasn't too concerned. It was the biggest earthquake I'd ever felt, but my tiredness seemed more pressing and I quickly returned to sleep. Apparently, there were 3 big earthquakes in Ota that night. I only felt the one though. No damage to report other than my fallen cutting board.
Yesterday at elementary school we had an earthquake drill. The idea was that an earthquake had just happened and a fire had been started at the school. The whole student body ran from the building (and they actually ran! no pretense of being able to calmly walk away from a disaster here). They all wore their bicycle helmets and gathered at the monkey bars at the back corner of the school yard.
While the drill may have been useful to them, I still have no idea what I would do in an earthquake if I were awake enough to consider the possibility of escaping. I don't have even have a bicycle helmet.
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
April 1st Ain't No Joke
April 1st is the start of a new fiscal year in Japan. In the US, fiscal years didn't mean much to me. However, in Japan they have ushered in a whole slew of changes. The new fiscal year also coincides with the new academic year. Students that I taught in elementary school are now looking so much older dressed in the junior high school uniform. I haven't had any classes yet (this first week was filled with administrative chores), but it will be interesting and perhaps difficult to switch from being seen as their main English teacher to an assistant who controls such a small percentage of any given class.
My school now also has a few new teachers. The Japanese system for teacher placement is confusing to me. I know I wouldn't want to be a part of it permanently. A teacher cannot stay in a school for more than six or seven years. Once they reach that point, and oftentimes many years beforehand, they are moved to another school. The school doesn't even need to be a local one. Gunma is divided into four education zones. A teacher can be transferred to any school within one of the zones. And by any school, I mean that a teacher teaching at a junior high school could be moved to an elementary school or vice versa. The time frame for reorienting yourself after a move is extremely short. Just about a week is given between finding out if/where you are transferring and the start of the new school term. Can you imagine being a teacher at a nice jhs near your house and then on March 31st (with the new school year starting April 7th) being told that you will be transferred to an elementary school an hour commute away?
I don't see much sense in this system. I guess you can argue that it keeps things fresh and fair since everyone is affected equally, but it seems like teachers cannot build strong relationships with staff or loyalty to a school. It also seems to cause unnecessary stress.
At any rate, my school now has four new staff members. That is a relatively low turnover. Some of my friends' schools have lost a third of their old teachers. Lucky for me, none of the new teachers are English teachers, so I won't have to start over again with a new person. The new teachers are also very welcoming and interested in me which I appreciate.
Another change which I find a bit disorienting (simply because I keep forgetting about it) is that the teachers change which grade they are teaching. They are attached to a particular class. For instance, the teacher of first years last year is now teaching the second years. The old second year teacher now has the third years. I would have hated this system growing up. To be stuck with the same teacher (or class) year after year just sounds horrible. Plus, it adds more work to the teachers' life since they are responsible for creating lesson plans for every grade, not just perfecting them at one level like in the US.
My school now also has a few new teachers. The Japanese system for teacher placement is confusing to me. I know I wouldn't want to be a part of it permanently. A teacher cannot stay in a school for more than six or seven years. Once they reach that point, and oftentimes many years beforehand, they are moved to another school. The school doesn't even need to be a local one. Gunma is divided into four education zones. A teacher can be transferred to any school within one of the zones. And by any school, I mean that a teacher teaching at a junior high school could be moved to an elementary school or vice versa. The time frame for reorienting yourself after a move is extremely short. Just about a week is given between finding out if/where you are transferring and the start of the new school term. Can you imagine being a teacher at a nice jhs near your house and then on March 31st (with the new school year starting April 7th) being told that you will be transferred to an elementary school an hour commute away?
I don't see much sense in this system. I guess you can argue that it keeps things fresh and fair since everyone is affected equally, but it seems like teachers cannot build strong relationships with staff or loyalty to a school. It also seems to cause unnecessary stress.
At any rate, my school now has four new staff members. That is a relatively low turnover. Some of my friends' schools have lost a third of their old teachers. Lucky for me, none of the new teachers are English teachers, so I won't have to start over again with a new person. The new teachers are also very welcoming and interested in me which I appreciate.
Another change which I find a bit disorienting (simply because I keep forgetting about it) is that the teachers change which grade they are teaching. They are attached to a particular class. For instance, the teacher of first years last year is now teaching the second years. The old second year teacher now has the third years. I would have hated this system growing up. To be stuck with the same teacher (or class) year after year just sounds horrible. Plus, it adds more work to the teachers' life since they are responsible for creating lesson plans for every grade, not just perfecting them at one level like in the US.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Office Parties
I wrote about graduation, but I haven't talked about the enkais. An enkai is an office party. Some schools (and businesses) have them all the time. A friend has been to three or four in half a year. Both my junior high and elementary schools' only enkai was in connection with graduation.
I was picked up at my apartment on both occasions by an English teacher. The junior high school's enkai was held in the upper room of a popular Chinese restaurant. Not every teacher came, but most made it. Unlike American office parties, no spouses or other guests were allowed. The point of an enkai is to allow everyone a safe place to get drunk and speak freely so office tensions can be eased. Beer and other alcohol flow freely at these events. Each person pays about 50 dollars to attend, which provides for the private room, the immense platters of food, and the limitless drinks.
Part of the etiquette of an enkai is to never let a glass go empty. It is also rude to fill your own glass. The proper thing to do is grab a bottle of beer or a pitcher of tea and circulate the room, ready to top-off anyone's glass. Even a full glass means little. I had teachers tell me to drink from my full glass so that they could refill it. It was a fun and boisterous evening.
To close the party we all stood and some teachers made short speeches. Then the teachers began a series of rhythmic clapping. I had no idea what was going on. Apparently, this is a normal way to end a party in Japan.
It was, however, not the end of the night. After our first enkai, the party went on to second enkai. The women and men split up for this. I have no idea what the men went on to do. Probably something fun. The women went to a brightly lit chain restaurant for ice cream sundaes. It wasn't quite the second enkai I was expecting, but it had its own charms. I've heard of some schools continuing on through third and fouth enkai, but since people were tired ours ended after two rounds.
The enkai at my elementary schools was pretty much the same as at my junior high school. We went to an Italian restaurant instead, and more people got drunker. While the jhs stuck to beer only, the elementary school teachers also brought out wine and sake. Perhaps that explains the oddest moment I've had yet in Japan. I was eating some spaghetti early in the evening when a third grade teacher who I hardly interact with tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a piece of paper. He then requested that I sing a song with him in front of everyone later in the evening. I was surprised, but I couldn't say no. I looked down at the piece of paper he'd handed me. The song we were to sing? Puff the Magic Dragon. Later in the evening our turn to entertain arrived. The teacher pulled a guitar out from nowhere. Then he unfolded a music stand from his bag like he were Mary Poppins. It was professional. He called out in English, "Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls!" People looked at him amused. I wondered if he was crazy. He started to strum his guitar and we started belting out Puff the Magic Dragon to a group of drunk teachers. It was surreal.
I was picked up at my apartment on both occasions by an English teacher. The junior high school's enkai was held in the upper room of a popular Chinese restaurant. Not every teacher came, but most made it. Unlike American office parties, no spouses or other guests were allowed. The point of an enkai is to allow everyone a safe place to get drunk and speak freely so office tensions can be eased. Beer and other alcohol flow freely at these events. Each person pays about 50 dollars to attend, which provides for the private room, the immense platters of food, and the limitless drinks.
Part of the etiquette of an enkai is to never let a glass go empty. It is also rude to fill your own glass. The proper thing to do is grab a bottle of beer or a pitcher of tea and circulate the room, ready to top-off anyone's glass. Even a full glass means little. I had teachers tell me to drink from my full glass so that they could refill it. It was a fun and boisterous evening.
To close the party we all stood and some teachers made short speeches. Then the teachers began a series of rhythmic clapping. I had no idea what was going on. Apparently, this is a normal way to end a party in Japan.
It was, however, not the end of the night. After our first enkai, the party went on to second enkai. The women and men split up for this. I have no idea what the men went on to do. Probably something fun. The women went to a brightly lit chain restaurant for ice cream sundaes. It wasn't quite the second enkai I was expecting, but it had its own charms. I've heard of some schools continuing on through third and fouth enkai, but since people were tired ours ended after two rounds.
The enkai at my elementary schools was pretty much the same as at my junior high school. We went to an Italian restaurant instead, and more people got drunker. While the jhs stuck to beer only, the elementary school teachers also brought out wine and sake. Perhaps that explains the oddest moment I've had yet in Japan. I was eating some spaghetti early in the evening when a third grade teacher who I hardly interact with tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a piece of paper. He then requested that I sing a song with him in front of everyone later in the evening. I was surprised, but I couldn't say no. I looked down at the piece of paper he'd handed me. The song we were to sing? Puff the Magic Dragon. Later in the evening our turn to entertain arrived. The teacher pulled a guitar out from nowhere. Then he unfolded a music stand from his bag like he were Mary Poppins. It was professional. He called out in English, "Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls!" People looked at him amused. I wondered if he was crazy. He started to strum his guitar and we started belting out Puff the Magic Dragon to a group of drunk teachers. It was surreal.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Graduation
The school year is coming to an end. Wednesday is the last day of class at my junior high school for the first and second years. The third years are already on their spring break. They will enter high school on April 7th. It is strange to be in a school when a third of the students have already left. The halls are quieter. The third year teachers take half days and have little to do when they arrive.
The graduation ceremony was March 12th. For those without a handy calendar that's a Wednesday. The ceremony was during school hours which is very unfair to all working parents. In fact, I only saw one or two fathers in the audience (one of whom was the head of the PTA). I wonder if the students cared that few relatives, let alone friends, would be able to watch them graduate.
The dress code for a graduation in Japan is formal black. Looking out at the parents and the teachers it looked as though we were gathered for a funeral. We teachers were allowed a spot of brightness--handsome corsages made by the home ec teacher. Parents also worn odd bits of color. Since the graduation was held inside the gym many parents brought their own indoor shoes: fuzzy house slippers. Students wore their formal uniforms. The principal was in tails.
After singing a song (the school song? the national anthem?), the graduation got down to business. Unlike in the US where speeches come before the handing out of diplomas, in Japan the opposite is true. Students lined up in a procession four at a time. They turned like figures on a coo-coo clock. Walk. Turn 90 degrees to the left. Bow. Turn 180 degrees. Walk. Bow. Up the stairs. Bow. Turn. Walk. Turn 90 degrees. Bow. Receive diploma. Grab with left hand. Then grab with right hand. Hold the diploma high. Bow. Down the stairs. Bow. Place diploma in tray. Return to seat. No one clapped or cheered. The principal read aloud the first and last diplomas. Aside from that and a low playing soundtrack the room was quiet. I was too busy to care though. Every student bowed to the teachers. I was kept busy returning each of those bows.
After the diplomas were handed out speeches were made and (many) songs were sang. The principal gave a speech. A student gave a speech. The head of the PTA gave a speech. An important person gave a speech. Then the third years sang. The first years sang. The second years sang. The first and second years sang to the third years. The third years sang to the first and second years. It was all very nice, though I didn't understand the words. They were obviously heartfelt since many of the teachers and students began to cry at this point in the ceremony.
At the end of the ceremony we teachers gathered around the exit with carnations. The students exited two by two and we gave each one a flower. Many of the students were crying (some were bawling). I only remember one who was smiling. All three 3rd year teachers were in tears (two of whom are men). Perhaps the black dress code is appropriate after all.
After the formal ceremony everyone gathered outside forming a corridor from the school door to the school's gate. The third years, wearing their backpacks and carrying all of their other school things, left school for the (not really) last time with all their teachers, parents, and peers clapping and cheering them on. Before long the corridor faded and everyone mingled taking pictures (of course I'd left my camera in the staff room not understand what I was being led to), introducing parents to teachers and friends, and saying goodbye. Lots of the female graduates gave their string tie to a favorite friend in the lower grades. I see some of them tied to bags and pencil cases in the first and second year classes now.
Afterwards, teachers returned to the staff room for a 1500 yen bento. It was incredible. In addition to the bento the principal (who is a nice and well-liked guy) bought three watermelons for everyone. That was a generous and expensive gift, especially since watermelon is out of season now. Watermelons cost about 20 dollars normally.
The flowers that had been decorating the school and the stage were divvied up amongst the staff. I got a number of blooms, and my apartment now feels more spring-like.
The stage. Red and white are celebratory colors in Japan. Graduation is also the only time I've seen a Japanese flag in this country.
Like clockwork.
He's a second year. He's carrying out the bonsai that all Japanese graduations must have. He'd best be careful. That tree cost over $1000.
The graduates don't get a cap or gown to differentiate themselves, but they get these pins. It says congratulations. This one is mine. The tea lady gave it to me.
The bento. This is from memory and this small picture, but inside we have a strawberry, sashimi, daikon, green vegetable in vinegar, assorted pickled vegetables, shrimp tempura, crab tempura, fried chicken, salmon, mackerel, eel, inari, potato, konnyaku,carrots, sweetened egg, dumpling, orange slice, and (to the side, mostly off-camera) rice with mixed vegetables.
The graduation ceremony was March 12th. For those without a handy calendar that's a Wednesday. The ceremony was during school hours which is very unfair to all working parents. In fact, I only saw one or two fathers in the audience (one of whom was the head of the PTA). I wonder if the students cared that few relatives, let alone friends, would be able to watch them graduate.
The dress code for a graduation in Japan is formal black. Looking out at the parents and the teachers it looked as though we were gathered for a funeral. We teachers were allowed a spot of brightness--handsome corsages made by the home ec teacher. Parents also worn odd bits of color. Since the graduation was held inside the gym many parents brought their own indoor shoes: fuzzy house slippers. Students wore their formal uniforms. The principal was in tails.
After singing a song (the school song? the national anthem?), the graduation got down to business. Unlike in the US where speeches come before the handing out of diplomas, in Japan the opposite is true. Students lined up in a procession four at a time. They turned like figures on a coo-coo clock. Walk. Turn 90 degrees to the left. Bow. Turn 180 degrees. Walk. Bow. Up the stairs. Bow. Turn. Walk. Turn 90 degrees. Bow. Receive diploma. Grab with left hand. Then grab with right hand. Hold the diploma high. Bow. Down the stairs. Bow. Place diploma in tray. Return to seat. No one clapped or cheered. The principal read aloud the first and last diplomas. Aside from that and a low playing soundtrack the room was quiet. I was too busy to care though. Every student bowed to the teachers. I was kept busy returning each of those bows.
After the diplomas were handed out speeches were made and (many) songs were sang. The principal gave a speech. A student gave a speech. The head of the PTA gave a speech. An important person gave a speech. Then the third years sang. The first years sang. The second years sang. The first and second years sang to the third years. The third years sang to the first and second years. It was all very nice, though I didn't understand the words. They were obviously heartfelt since many of the teachers and students began to cry at this point in the ceremony.
At the end of the ceremony we teachers gathered around the exit with carnations. The students exited two by two and we gave each one a flower. Many of the students were crying (some were bawling). I only remember one who was smiling. All three 3rd year teachers were in tears (two of whom are men). Perhaps the black dress code is appropriate after all.
After the formal ceremony everyone gathered outside forming a corridor from the school door to the school's gate. The third years, wearing their backpacks and carrying all of their other school things, left school for the (not really) last time with all their teachers, parents, and peers clapping and cheering them on. Before long the corridor faded and everyone mingled taking pictures (of course I'd left my camera in the staff room not understand what I was being led to), introducing parents to teachers and friends, and saying goodbye. Lots of the female graduates gave their string tie to a favorite friend in the lower grades. I see some of them tied to bags and pencil cases in the first and second year classes now.
Afterwards, teachers returned to the staff room for a 1500 yen bento. It was incredible. In addition to the bento the principal (who is a nice and well-liked guy) bought three watermelons for everyone. That was a generous and expensive gift, especially since watermelon is out of season now. Watermelons cost about 20 dollars normally.
The flowers that had been decorating the school and the stage were divvied up amongst the staff. I got a number of blooms, and my apartment now feels more spring-like.
The stage. Red and white are celebratory colors in Japan. Graduation is also the only time I've seen a Japanese flag in this country.
Like clockwork.
He's a second year. He's carrying out the bonsai that all Japanese graduations must have. He'd best be careful. That tree cost over $1000.
The graduates don't get a cap or gown to differentiate themselves, but they get these pins. It says congratulations. This one is mine. The tea lady gave it to me.
The bento. This is from memory and this small picture, but inside we have a strawberry, sashimi, daikon, green vegetable in vinegar, assorted pickled vegetables, shrimp tempura, crab tempura, fried chicken, salmon, mackerel, eel, inari, potato, konnyaku,carrots, sweetened egg, dumpling, orange slice, and (to the side, mostly off-camera) rice with mixed vegetables.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
School life tidbit: I am invited to class
Formality and politeness are important aspects of Japanese society and education. Students have to announce their presence before entering the staff room. In some schools they are not allowed to enter the staff room unless a teacher acknowledges them. Students also have to announce when they leave the staff room. As part of this culture of politeness I am offered an invitation to each class I go to. Students will come to the teacher before their class in order to help them carry any of the day's materials. If I am to be a part of the class that day, the teacher ushers the students over to me. The first years still look to their teacher for guidance, but the older students have mastered the English. "Caitlin, please join us for 3B." It is usually the boy who speaks as the girl demurs to him. I always respond, "Yes, I will. Thank you. See you!" It's a strange thing to be invited into a classroom every time. In part it is stand-offish as if I am still a guest who doesn't know where to go. On the other hand, it forces the students to speak English and be the active player in the conversation instead of passively responding to my questions.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
School Life (Part 2 of a Series)
Things a Japanese student must own at Kizaki Junior High School:
Athletic shoes. One pair for each year.
Indoor shoes. One pair for each year.
A formal uniform.
A track suit.
A canvas backpack.
An apron.
A head scarf.
A bicycle.
A bicycle helmet.
I know that Japan has an enormous middle class, but the required costs to attend Japanese public school surprise me. Many families only buy one formal uniform to last for the duration of middle school, meaning that first years swim in baggy suits, and third years are close to bursting out of their jackets. Even in elementary school the costs are outrageous. The usual leather backpack can cost hundreds of dollars. I also wonder about the cost of books. Kizaki doesn't use hardback books like I had in middle school. Each student gets a small, floppy book that is theirs to keep and write in.
I wonder what measures are in place to help a family who can't afford the hundreds of dollars needed to set up a proper school life for their child. I asked about it once, but was met with confusion and misunderstanding. Poverty is hidden in Japan. While in Tokyo I never saw a homeless person. Images of affluence are everywhere. I wonder if there is a greater shame and stigma associated with being poor in Japan as compared to being poor in other countries due to Japan's social ideal of group uniformity and efficiency.
Athletic shoes. One pair for each year.
Indoor shoes. One pair for each year.
A formal uniform.
A track suit.
A canvas backpack.
An apron.
A head scarf.
A bicycle.
A bicycle helmet.
I know that Japan has an enormous middle class, but the required costs to attend Japanese public school surprise me. Many families only buy one formal uniform to last for the duration of middle school, meaning that first years swim in baggy suits, and third years are close to bursting out of their jackets. Even in elementary school the costs are outrageous. The usual leather backpack can cost hundreds of dollars. I also wonder about the cost of books. Kizaki doesn't use hardback books like I had in middle school. Each student gets a small, floppy book that is theirs to keep and write in.
I wonder what measures are in place to help a family who can't afford the hundreds of dollars needed to set up a proper school life for their child. I asked about it once, but was met with confusion and misunderstanding. Poverty is hidden in Japan. While in Tokyo I never saw a homeless person. Images of affluence are everywhere. I wonder if there is a greater shame and stigma associated with being poor in Japan as compared to being poor in other countries due to Japan's social ideal of group uniformity and efficiency.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
We Are Watching You
Last Monday was my class observation. In front of all twenty Ota ALTs, my supervisor from the Board of Education, and staff from several local private ALT companies Ms. Sasaki and I gave a model class on team teaching.
I'm not sure why my supervisor chose me to be the focus of the day. Other ALTs have been at their jobs for years. My pet theory is that my school is closest to the Board of Education so it would be the shortest commute for him.
Both Ms. Sasaki and I were nervous as the day approached. Never before have we put so much communication or forethought into a lesson. I designed the 20 minute game to practice the day's grammar: can, can't, can you ~? She made magnetized flash cards and typed up a minute by minute schedule for the class.
The class of first years was clearly anxious as we waited for the observers to enter the classroom. For many of the kids, the 20 ALTs would be the most diverse group of people they would have ever interacted with.
The class was a success. The planning Ms. Sasaki and I put into the lesson paid off. The activity I made was a smash also. Everyone in the class was able to play, meaning that the first years and the ALTs got to interact and ask each other questions. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
Other teachers at Kizaki came to watch the spectacle. The principal took pictures. I had fun, though it was a relief when the class was over. The next day the principal handed me a set of photos from the day. I want to scan the pictures so I can share them, but I haven't had time yet. Hopefully, soon I'll have a link here to them.
I'm not sure why my supervisor chose me to be the focus of the day. Other ALTs have been at their jobs for years. My pet theory is that my school is closest to the Board of Education so it would be the shortest commute for him.
Both Ms. Sasaki and I were nervous as the day approached. Never before have we put so much communication or forethought into a lesson. I designed the 20 minute game to practice the day's grammar: can, can't, can you ~? She made magnetized flash cards and typed up a minute by minute schedule for the class.
The class of first years was clearly anxious as we waited for the observers to enter the classroom. For many of the kids, the 20 ALTs would be the most diverse group of people they would have ever interacted with.
The class was a success. The planning Ms. Sasaki and I put into the lesson paid off. The activity I made was a smash also. Everyone in the class was able to play, meaning that the first years and the ALTs got to interact and ask each other questions. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.
Other teachers at Kizaki came to watch the spectacle. The principal took pictures. I had fun, though it was a relief when the class was over. The next day the principal handed me a set of photos from the day. I want to scan the pictures so I can share them, but I haven't had time yet. Hopefully, soon I'll have a link here to them.
Friday, November 16, 2007
School Life (Part 1 of a Series)
Schools in Japan don't have janitors. It is the job of the students to clean their school. At my junior high school, cleaning time is the period right after lunch. As soon as the trays have been cleared, swarms of students head to their assigned location and begin to sweep, mop, and empty trash cans. It amazes me that no one lazes about. They do their assigned tasks, and don't seem too bitter about it--even those assigned to clean the bathrooms.
It's a relaxed time. Kids make games out of their tasks. They race against each other as the push rags across the floor; they see who can empty the most trash cans. Of course, the main reason they do this is so that they have more time to chat before the next class.
While I've heard the idea of cleaning time expressed as 'moving-the-dirt-around time,' I am generally impressed by the level of cleanliness of Kizaki. My elementary school, however, is very dirty even though the kids there also have a cleaning time. They try though. It's hard for them since when they finish cleaning they are allowed to play on the playground. They generally rush through their tasks.
And where am I during these times? My assigned area is the staff room, so with four or five other students (and the vice-principal) I help to empty trash cans and sweep the floor. It's no great highlight, but I like being able to share the occasional comment with a student.
I wonder if kids in the US would have more respect for school buildings if they had to clean them everyday.
It's a relaxed time. Kids make games out of their tasks. They race against each other as the push rags across the floor; they see who can empty the most trash cans. Of course, the main reason they do this is so that they have more time to chat before the next class.
While I've heard the idea of cleaning time expressed as 'moving-the-dirt-around time,' I am generally impressed by the level of cleanliness of Kizaki. My elementary school, however, is very dirty even though the kids there also have a cleaning time. They try though. It's hard for them since when they finish cleaning they are allowed to play on the playground. They generally rush through their tasks.
And where am I during these times? My assigned area is the staff room, so with four or five other students (and the vice-principal) I help to empty trash cans and sweep the floor. It's no great highlight, but I like being able to share the occasional comment with a student.
I wonder if kids in the US would have more respect for school buildings if they had to clean them everyday.
Monday, November 12, 2007
バレーボール (bareboru)
Last Monday I was handed a sign-up sheet for a volleyball match to be held on Sunday. Reflecting on how dull most of my weekends are, I quickly drew my maru (a circle, a sign of agreement) without hesitation. I began to doubt myself later in the day when the first year English teacher, the kind Sasaki-sensei, approached me, list in hand. "You don't have to do it, you know. It's not required." I told her that I thought it would be fun. She seemed wary. Becoming cautious myself, I asked for more details. Sunday morning, from 9-12, teachers and parents from the PTA were going to gather to play games of soft volleyball (which I later found out is volleyball played with a kick ball over a badminton net). Some students would be there. It was a casual thing. Awash with good feelings stemming from my upcoming birthday, I assured her that it all sounded great.
It was hard to wake up that early on a Sunday, but I managed. I was even early by a few minutes. I was greeted by the sight of members of the school volleyball team pumping air into kick balls, dozens of middle aged women milling about, some flexing, some rummaging through the innumerable boxes that filled the stage, others sipping sports drinks and hot tea. I definitely stood out. As soon as I was noticed, I was taken under wing by Hashiba-sensei who propelled me close to the stage where a member of the PTA began to introduce the event.
We separated into teams. I was on the teacher's team. The three other ones were comprised of parents. We spent the first half hour practicing in a circle at keeping the ball in the air. Our kick ball had been leaking air, so they taped gobs of duct tape over the hole making the ball lop-sided. It refused to be aimed. After that exercise in futility, we were set up for our first match. Our opponents looked tough. Wearing near identical track suits, they looked like a team. We were more rag-tag, though we did have a principal, a vice-principal, a science teacher, a volleyball coach, and a home ec teacher on our side. We were soundly beaten.
Our next opponent was more like us. They didn't have matching uniforms. They didn't know how to serve. It was a close match. We just managed to squeak by.
Our last match was with ringers. Wearing matching track suits and knee pads, the ladies were pros. In our first game they wracked up 20 points before we got 1. I managed to focus a bit for our second game, and came to the realization that I was at least four inches taller than every member on their team. I was able to block every attempt they made to spike the ball. It was, however, not enough, and they beat us by a small margin.
Points were tallied and prizes were awarded. The team of knee-pad wearing ringers came in first. They were given a carton of Asahi Beer. My team came in third. We got a carton of sport drinks. Everyone was given a bag of presents that contained salty snacks, iced tea, Kleenex, plastic cling wrap, and liquid dish soap.
Gifts in hand, we bowed, and turned to leave. Sasaki-sensei's doubts were misplaced. Not only did I have fun, get exercise, and commune with teachers and parents, I also now have doubles of some basic kitchen supplies!
It was hard to wake up that early on a Sunday, but I managed. I was even early by a few minutes. I was greeted by the sight of members of the school volleyball team pumping air into kick balls, dozens of middle aged women milling about, some flexing, some rummaging through the innumerable boxes that filled the stage, others sipping sports drinks and hot tea. I definitely stood out. As soon as I was noticed, I was taken under wing by Hashiba-sensei who propelled me close to the stage where a member of the PTA began to introduce the event.
We separated into teams. I was on the teacher's team. The three other ones were comprised of parents. We spent the first half hour practicing in a circle at keeping the ball in the air. Our kick ball had been leaking air, so they taped gobs of duct tape over the hole making the ball lop-sided. It refused to be aimed. After that exercise in futility, we were set up for our first match. Our opponents looked tough. Wearing near identical track suits, they looked like a team. We were more rag-tag, though we did have a principal, a vice-principal, a science teacher, a volleyball coach, and a home ec teacher on our side. We were soundly beaten.
Our next opponent was more like us. They didn't have matching uniforms. They didn't know how to serve. It was a close match. We just managed to squeak by.
Our last match was with ringers. Wearing matching track suits and knee pads, the ladies were pros. In our first game they wracked up 20 points before we got 1. I managed to focus a bit for our second game, and came to the realization that I was at least four inches taller than every member on their team. I was able to block every attempt they made to spike the ball. It was, however, not enough, and they beat us by a small margin.
Points were tallied and prizes were awarded. The team of knee-pad wearing ringers came in first. They were given a carton of Asahi Beer. My team came in third. We got a carton of sport drinks. Everyone was given a bag of presents that contained salty snacks, iced tea, Kleenex, plastic cling wrap, and liquid dish soap.
Gifts in hand, we bowed, and turned to leave. Sasaki-sensei's doubts were misplaced. Not only did I have fun, get exercise, and commune with teachers and parents, I also now have doubles of some basic kitchen supplies!
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
I Am An Expert At Making Lists
Hello, I'll be your all-knowing expert on everything! Explain the difference between "would like" and "want" in simple English with no warning? Okay! Explain the culture of the Maori people? Okay! Draw a map of Papua New Guinea and its relative position to Japan and the United States? Okay! Read in Tok Pisin? Sure! Sing John Lennon's Imagine? Ehrm. . .
Despite this wonder-talent of mine to spin plausibility on any subject in mere seconds (ignore the fact that my map of Papua New Guinea bore no relation to the actual country, and that I initially spelled Guinea wrong on the board), I have spent the last few days seriously contemplating what I want to get out of my time in Japan. I was handed a set of forms for recontracting (due in February). I don't plan on staying more than this one year, but it put into focus that I have less than twelve months to do everything I want to do in Japan. So, I made a list of things I want or want to do.
My list:
Beginning fluency in Japanese
Climb Mount Fuji
Japanese friends
Art classes (calligraphy, wood block, flower arranging)
Publish an article or photographs in a local paper or JET publication
Design my own webpage
Save money
Ride my bike for long distances
Ease with cooking Japanese food and with Japanese ingredients
Go to an onsen
Choose a post-Japan path
Despite this wonder-talent of mine to spin plausibility on any subject in mere seconds (ignore the fact that my map of Papua New Guinea bore no relation to the actual country, and that I initially spelled Guinea wrong on the board), I have spent the last few days seriously contemplating what I want to get out of my time in Japan. I was handed a set of forms for recontracting (due in February). I don't plan on staying more than this one year, but it put into focus that I have less than twelve months to do everything I want to do in Japan. So, I made a list of things I want or want to do.
My list:
Beginning fluency in Japanese
Climb Mount Fuji
Japanese friends
Art classes (calligraphy, wood block, flower arranging)
Publish an article or photographs in a local paper or JET publication
Design my own webpage
Save money
Ride my bike for long distances
Ease with cooking Japanese food and with Japanese ingredients
Go to an onsen
Choose a post-Japan path
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Oddities and Other Ends
Without a self-introduction to give, I was curious how classes would be. I had two first-year classes where I felt mostly useless. I was called upon occasionally to repeat the new vocabulary word. "Band." "B-mumble-mumble-d-nd." "Band!" "B-a-o-n-d-mumble." I hope that situation improves.
The other class I had was a third-year. I was able to lead a warm-up game that actually worked. Written on the board was a word for each team. One by one team members would come to the board to write a new word that started with the last letter of the word preceding. Kids liked it, and that's really the most important aspect of these games right now. I need to figure out what is both at their level and engaging. Found one, now I only need a dozen more.
The rest of my day was consumed with speech competition kids (who are just awesome), rain, trying to figure out the activity for tomorrow's 2nd years, and saying goodbye to a friend from home.
Matt, who is currently at his orientation for Fulbright, visited me over the past two days. It was really fun, especially the time when he, I, and Can talked over Skype. It felt like a mini-reunion from senior year. Yesterday evening, Matt, Leslie, and I went out to eat at a nearby restaurant. It was delicious. Edamame, squid, rice, miso soup, chicken, tenpura, eggs, pork cooked to perfection, sake, and Sapporo (support your local brewery!) beer.
That was feast one this week. On Sunday I am going to Nagano with my cooking class to this restaurant
to eat this meal
I am looking forward to it. We will also be going to a museum and a famous shopping district.
To end I must fulfill the title of this post. Japan is odd. Anyone have ideas as to what these are, or why these are?
The other class I had was a third-year. I was able to lead a warm-up game that actually worked. Written on the board was a word for each team. One by one team members would come to the board to write a new word that started with the last letter of the word preceding. Kids liked it, and that's really the most important aspect of these games right now. I need to figure out what is both at their level and engaging. Found one, now I only need a dozen more.
The rest of my day was consumed with speech competition kids (who are just awesome), rain, trying to figure out the activity for tomorrow's 2nd years, and saying goodbye to a friend from home.
Matt, who is currently at his orientation for Fulbright, visited me over the past two days. It was really fun, especially the time when he, I, and Can talked over Skype. It felt like a mini-reunion from senior year. Yesterday evening, Matt, Leslie, and I went out to eat at a nearby restaurant. It was delicious. Edamame, squid, rice, miso soup, chicken, tenpura, eggs, pork cooked to perfection, sake, and Sapporo (support your local brewery!) beer.
That was feast one this week. On Sunday I am going to Nagano with my cooking class to this restaurant
to eat this meal
I am looking forward to it. We will also be going to a museum and a famous shopping district.
To end I must fulfill the title of this post. Japan is odd. Anyone have ideas as to what these are, or why these are?
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Life in a whirl-wind (and driving rains)
Good morning everybody! Let's learn all about MEEEEE!
Thus began my teaching life in Japan. For this first day, I managed to arrive on time and not be so stressed. After all, the topic is innately familiar. The first lesson was with the third years. I really enjoyed my teacher in class. He helped me out seamlessly when I was in trouble with my timing, and it seems the kids really like him. The first class was a little intimidating because another teacher stood in the back with a clipboard and evaluated me (for what purpose I can't say). Second period was the same as the first. For the third period I had my first sleeper in class. However, overall, that class was the best. They displayed auditory excitement over my presentation, they got into the game. This was in contrast to my fourth class who was sleepy and hungry, and didn't want to do much. Although, I think a small percentage is coloring my view, because now that I think about it several kids were happy and engaged.
There were some small "oh no's!" like the time the laptop ran out of battery power even though five minutes previous it had almost 40%, and the time where I declared a winner in the game only to remember that I had left my stickers (the prizes) downstairs.
After the four classes, it was lunch time. Japanese school lunch is the best, if a little under-warm. For under 2$ I ate a cheese and ham sandwich, noodle and cabbage soup, corn and bean salad, milk, tea, and grapefruit. All of it was real food too, not the odd interpretations you'd expect to come from a school cafeteria.
In the remaining hours of school I hung around the teacher's room where I learned that a weather warning had been issued. A typhoon is upon us.
Technically, school could be canceled for this, but in my amateur opinion it's nothing but a thunderstorm and why would schools shut down for rain. I fully expect to go to school tomorrow and deliver my self-introduction to four more classes.
Additional notes:
I had a breakthrough today with the speech competition kids. They weren't pronouncing "war" correctly, and I couldn't figure out how to explain the way that I was saying it. But today, I got it. We say war like woar! Brilliant. I really hope one of them wins something at the competition. They try so hard and are really quite good.
Also, comments make my world glow brighter.
Thus began my teaching life in Japan. For this first day, I managed to arrive on time and not be so stressed. After all, the topic is innately familiar. The first lesson was with the third years. I really enjoyed my teacher in class. He helped me out seamlessly when I was in trouble with my timing, and it seems the kids really like him. The first class was a little intimidating because another teacher stood in the back with a clipboard and evaluated me (for what purpose I can't say). Second period was the same as the first. For the third period I had my first sleeper in class. However, overall, that class was the best. They displayed auditory excitement over my presentation, they got into the game. This was in contrast to my fourth class who was sleepy and hungry, and didn't want to do much. Although, I think a small percentage is coloring my view, because now that I think about it several kids were happy and engaged.
There were some small "oh no's!" like the time the laptop ran out of battery power even though five minutes previous it had almost 40%, and the time where I declared a winner in the game only to remember that I had left my stickers (the prizes) downstairs.
After the four classes, it was lunch time. Japanese school lunch is the best, if a little under-warm. For under 2$ I ate a cheese and ham sandwich, noodle and cabbage soup, corn and bean salad, milk, tea, and grapefruit. All of it was real food too, not the odd interpretations you'd expect to come from a school cafeteria.
In the remaining hours of school I hung around the teacher's room where I learned that a weather warning had been issued. A typhoon is upon us.
Technically, school could be canceled for this, but in my amateur opinion it's nothing but a thunderstorm and why would schools shut down for rain. I fully expect to go to school tomorrow and deliver my self-introduction to four more classes.
Additional notes:
I had a breakthrough today with the speech competition kids. They weren't pronouncing "war" correctly, and I couldn't figure out how to explain the way that I was saying it. But today, I got it. We say war like woar! Brilliant. I really hope one of them wins something at the competition. They try so hard and are really quite good.
Also, comments make my world glow brighter.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
It's My First Day
The speech went well. The morning started rough though. I arrived 10 minutes early, but when I walked through the door all of the teachers were already there and the vice-principal was mid-speech. I scurried to my seat, and pretended to listen to the Japanese. I used the time to go over my own speech. At 9:10 the opening ceremony started. We walked to the gym where the 300 kids were milling. Teachers led their homerooms to their designated places. Kids sat cross-legged on the floor. Teachers stood behind them. The set-up made me feel more relaxed. These kids weren't to be feared, they were little middle-schoolers who weren't even allowed chairs. After the singing of the national anthem (or the school song, who knows?), the vice-principal and principal gave long speeches. Then it was my turn. I followed the principal up the stairs to the stage and podium. I bowed every time he did. One bow to the VP, one to the empty stage, one to the audience, one to each other. I managed to say the whole speech from memory without stumbling, so good for me.
My bit was the end of the ceremony. Kids were dispersed, and I went back to the staff room. I worked on my self-introduction lesson, which I give tomorrow to four classes. That's another belly of worry. I worry about my timing. Will I run over? Conclude too soon? Will kids raise their hands? Be engaged? What will I do if no one responds? I'll figure it out tomorrow, but I'm hoping it doesn't turn out badly.
Another note about school. I would hate to be a girl at Kizaki middle school. Imagine being thirteen and required to wear a heavy, navy, pleated skirt to mid-calf, a white blouse with rounded collar, the ugliest vest/shirt in heavy navy fabric, a droopy thin ribbon tie, and school issued shoes. And to boot, your tie and shoes are color coded by grade. Yellow for the newbies. Red for the 2nd years. Blue for the cool cats on top. I hope they change out of those uniforms almost as soon as they leave school grounds.
My bit was the end of the ceremony. Kids were dispersed, and I went back to the staff room. I worked on my self-introduction lesson, which I give tomorrow to four classes. That's another belly of worry. I worry about my timing. Will I run over? Conclude too soon? Will kids raise their hands? Be engaged? What will I do if no one responds? I'll figure it out tomorrow, but I'm hoping it doesn't turn out badly.
Another note about school. I would hate to be a girl at Kizaki middle school. Imagine being thirteen and required to wear a heavy, navy, pleated skirt to mid-calf, a white blouse with rounded collar, the ugliest vest/shirt in heavy navy fabric, a droopy thin ribbon tie, and school issued shoes. And to boot, your tie and shoes are color coded by grade. Yellow for the newbies. Red for the 2nd years. Blue for the cool cats on top. I hope they change out of those uniforms almost as soon as they leave school grounds.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
First Day Jitters
Tomorrow is the first day of junior high. There will be no classes, so at least that stress is delayed. However, I will give a speech (in Japanese!) in front of the whole school, and right now that makes me very nervous.
I want to memorize the speech, so as practice I'm typing it in here without looking at my paper.
Hajimemashite. Watashi wa Caitlin Flynn desu. Caitlin to yonde kudasai. Watashi was America no Tennessee kara kimashita. Tennessee wa America no minami no hoo desu. Tennessee wa kantorii myuujikku de umei desu. Erubisu Puresuri to Dorii Paaton no yoo na yumeina kasyuwa Tennessee shushin desu. Demo, watashi wa ongakuka dewa arimasen. Watashi no shumi wa aisu hokke, dokusho, to fotogurafi desu. Nihon wa hajimete desu. Ota to Kizaki chuugaku ni korarete ureshii desu. Itsudemo, dokodemo koe o kakete kudasai. Doozo yorushiku onegaishimasu.
Hello. My name is Caitlin Flynn. Please call me Caitlin. I'm from Tennessee in the US. Tennessee is in the south of America. Tennessee is famous for country music. People like Elvis Presley and Dolly Parton are from there, but I'm no musician. My hobbies are ice hockey, reading, and photography. This is my first time in Japan. I'm happy to be here in Ota and at Kizaki Junior High School. Please talk to me anytime, anywhere. Thank you very much.
Apologies for the horrendous romanization. Wish me luck!
I want to memorize the speech, so as practice I'm typing it in here without looking at my paper.
Hajimemashite. Watashi wa Caitlin Flynn desu. Caitlin to yonde kudasai. Watashi was America no Tennessee kara kimashita. Tennessee wa America no minami no hoo desu. Tennessee wa kantorii myuujikku de umei desu. Erubisu Puresuri to Dorii Paaton no yoo na yumeina kasyuwa Tennessee shushin desu. Demo, watashi wa ongakuka dewa arimasen. Watashi no shumi wa aisu hokke, dokusho, to fotogurafi desu. Nihon wa hajimete desu. Ota to Kizaki chuugaku ni korarete ureshii desu. Itsudemo, dokodemo koe o kakete kudasai. Doozo yorushiku onegaishimasu.
Hello. My name is Caitlin Flynn. Please call me Caitlin. I'm from Tennessee in the US. Tennessee is in the south of America. Tennessee is famous for country music. People like Elvis Presley and Dolly Parton are from there, but I'm no musician. My hobbies are ice hockey, reading, and photography. This is my first time in Japan. I'm happy to be here in Ota and at Kizaki Junior High School. Please talk to me anytime, anywhere. Thank you very much.
Apologies for the horrendous romanization. Wish me luck!
