Sakura

Cherry blossom (sakura) season ended a while ago, but it was one of the most spectacular things I’ve experienced in Japan so I figured I’d put up some pictures to give you an idea of what it is like.  The thing is, sakura trees are everywhere in Japan.  When the trees start to bloom, it’s like the whole countryside is exploding in blossoms.  They last for about two weeks, then they blow away to make way for the new green leaves.  

The river that runs through town is lined by cherry trees.  Here's the river before the blossoms:

And after:

You really can't get away from them.  Here are some pictures outside my school:

Some cherry trees are very famous and attract tons of tourists.  Here is a tree that isn't famous, but looks to me as beautiful as the tourist sites I visited:

This is the big one.  "Takizakura."  It is over 1000 years old.  It is one of the three most famous trees in all of Japan.  And I live only seven miles away.

And the tourists:

 
The symbolism of sakura in Japan is very interesting.  Yes, the sakura represent beauty, but they represent mortality -- something here one day and gone the next. During sakura season you have to be careful to appreciate each look out the window, because tomorrow the blossoms might all be gone. 

Reboot

 When I first arrived in Japan last August I decided to start this travel blog to tell you all about the strange new things I was encountering in my journey.  As you have noticed, the blog hasn’t seen much activity in the last few months.  The thing is, I am no longer a traveler in Japan – I live here.  The strange and incomprehensible things that gave me something to write about when I first arrived are still as strange as they ever were, but now they are familiar.  You can’t write a travel blog about the place you live.

So I need to reboot this blog, give it a new purpose.  I got an idea from a fantasy novel I recently finished.  In the book a girl runs away from home and ends up living in a temple in a foreign city.  The priest agrees to feed, clothe, and educate her if she will commit to joining the temple.  One portion of her education involves her going into the city during the week and selling clams from a cart.  At the end of each week she reports back to the priest three things she learned during the week.   It doesn’t matter what the three things are as long as they were new to her.  Maybe she learned some new gossip around town, maybe she learned where to find the best clams, maybe she learned how to do a cartwheel – if it was something new, the priest was satisfied.

And that’s my idea for the blog.  It doesn’t matter what I write about, as long as it is something I have learned in the past week.  (You should never stop learning, right?)  So what can you expect?  Less posts about Japanese culture or events, but more posts on more general things that currently interest or intrigue me.  Maybe this plan won’t solve my problems, but at least I’ll have one less excuse for neglecting the blog.

I might as well get started right here with this new plan.  And what is the new thing I have learned about?  A little thing called “blog etiquette” (insert snarky comment here).  I (obviously) didn’t give it much thought before; I didn’t realize that such a thing existed, or if I did realize it I never thought it applied to me.  Here is my blog, my own personal journal of a sort, and I just happen to be putting it on the internet for any interested party to view.  But I was reading a different blog the other day and was surprised by a post the author made.  He made a post just to say that his next actual post would be a week late, but he wanted his audience to know that he was still there, still writing for them.  It made me think of the way I’ve treated my audience (whoooops).  I mean, I have a handful of websites on my toolbar that I check for regular updates (mostly webcomics, but a couple of traditional blogs too), and I appreciate the regularity and punctuality of their posts.  And if they aren’t able to make a post, they take the time to let me know that they are still there for me, they are just running a little behind.  I just never thought to apply the same concept to myself as a blogger, but that’s what I am now, eh?

So, for those of you that enjoy reading what I write here, thank you.  For those of you that checked here in the past few months hoping for a new post, thank you, and I’m sorry I left you all in the dark for so long.  I’ll do my best for weekly updates (maybe by Sunday each week?), and if I don’t have new material I’ll try to at least let you know I’m still around and to expect a new post before too long.  Since the topics I’ll be writing about has significantly expanded now, feel free to leave comments of things you want me to write about.  No promises, but maybe your idea will spark my next post.

Double points if you get the reference.

Squeaky Wheel

There are approximately 450 students at the school where I teach.  And I, at some point or another, will teach them all.  They are split into three grades of 150 students each, and I do two-week rotations through each grade.  Even though I’ve already been at it for six months now, I still only know a fraction of their names.  And when I feel like I start to get to know a student a little bit, it is another four weeks before I will see them in class again.  Now, if I was the only teacher in the classroom, or even the main teacher with an assistant, it wouldn’t work.  But I am the assistant; I am there to supplement and aid the main teacher.  It’s a weird place to be, and it has taken some time for me to even figure out what my goals at work should be since my goals cannot be the same as a normal teacher.  That being said, I do feel that my job is important and I make a significant contribution to my students.

But this isn’t a post about my goals as an assistant; I want to focus on that fraction of kids whose names I somehow remember.  Why do I remember them?  Why do they get my attention in class?  Why are there still students that I greet in the mornings that I do not remember ever seeing before in the school?  What does a student need to do to make sure he/she gets the attention he/she needs from the teacher? 

First of all memorable students (not surprisingly) are the trouble makers.  This makes sense.  Their names are the first ones to be learned, and their images get burned on your mind from all the stress they cause you.  But hey, I remember them.  I remember what they are good at and where they struggle.  During class I always have an eye devoted to them, mostly to make sure they aren’t getting into trouble, but along with that comes a greater attention to how they are doing academically and otherwise. 

The next group of memorable students are the brown-nosers.  These students are well behaved, active in class, and always ready to go above and beyond to prove to their teachers how happy and grateful they are to learn.  No one likes a brown-noser, but the thing is, it works.  You do get noticed, and remembered.  Maybe brown-noser is a harsh term, but it will have to suffice for what I am trying to get at.  These students make their teacher’s life easier and maybe even more rewarding.  And the teacher will remember that. 

The third group for me gets remembered because they remind me of something else in life, maybe they have a familiar face, maybe their mannerisms match those of someone else I know, who knows.  They don’t really have any control of this, but they stick out in some way, and usually this way is particular to me.  And they get noticed.  And since I remember them, I want to keep track on how they are doing.  Week after week I want to check in with them, and the only reason they got lucky enough was because of something interesting in their appearance.

And then there’s the rest of the kids – the ones that get forgotten, fall through the cracks, left behind, whatever you want to say.  It is hard for me to admit that kids like this exist for me, but when I consider that I will only spend three months out of the year teaching these 450 kids their existence is unavoidable.  In class I try to look at all the kids’ faces and see which ones I can immediately identify, if not by name then at least by “oh, that’s the one I sat next to at lunch last week.”  So many kids here fall into this category.  They don’t cause trouble, but they don’t particularly find any joy in learning English either.  They turn in their homework, repeat their exercises, and get lost amidst the trouble makers and the brown-nosers.  The squeaky wheel gets the grease, eh?  I do my best to watch out for all the wheels as much as I can, but the student that demands attention is the one that will get attention.  It isn’t fair to the other students.  And it isn’t fair to me, either.  I want to know all my students, but it looks like this might be as good as it will get.  In six more weeks the school year turns over, and 150 of those students I was trying to get to know will move on, and 150 new ones will come in and take their place.  Maybe I’ll be able to do better with the new batch.

Tokyo

Outside the Hostel

Schools in Japan take a two week break for New Year’s holidays, so two fellow teachers and I decided to take advantage of the much needed time off by traveling to Tokyo for a week of exploration and relaxation.  We stuck around town for Christmas celebrations and headed out on the 26^th.  After a quick train ride to Koriyama we hopped on a bus for Tokyo.  The trip was supposed to take about four hours, but by the time we hit Tokyo traffic it was closer to five.  We could have taken shinkansen (bullet train) and made it in about 90 minutes, but it would’ve cost twice as much.  We arrived on the opposite side of the city from our hostel, so we had to figure out the train system right away after the bus let us off.  Luckily, the Tokyo train/subway system isn’t too hard to navigate (and I also really enjoy deciphering subway maps – strange, but true).  After another 40 minutes and one wrong turn, we were at our hostel.  Checking into the hostel was interesting because it was really the first time I had taken note of the difference between an average tourist and me.  I’ve been in country for a few months now, I can get around alright; the culture might still seem strange to me, but it doesn’t surprise or shock me much anymore; I know to take my shoes off in a genkan.  So when we got to the hostel the worker there started to explain things about the showers, things about trains, when we needed to take off our shoes, etc.  But she quickly realized we weren’t fresh off the boat and instantly became friendlier and more familiar with us.  It’s nice to be able to travel over here while being in the know, at least a little bit.

After we found the hostel and got our bags situated, it was time to hunt for dinner.  Eric and Celeste were my traveling companions for this trip, and before we even left home we made a plan for meals.  You see, it’s not that we are indecisive people, it’s just that we usually don’t mind where we eat.  We’ve had difficulties deciding on food in the past, just because none of us have felt strongly about one place in particular and end up wandering the streets in search of the perfect restaurant.  Ok, I guess we are indecisive.  So for this trip we decided to take turns picking where we would eat dinner.  I think it was Celeste’s turn that first night, but it didn’t matter because the choice was clear.  Almost immediately after we left the hostel we found a yaki-tori restaurant and made a bee-line in that direction.  There was another good thing about traveling with only two others: most things in Japan are smaller than they are in America, and that includes restaurants.  Finding seating for a group of seven has given us problems on past trips, but with the three of us we could go anywhere.  So we entered the yaki-tori joint and they put us in what at first looked like a broom closet, but no, there was just enough room for three chairs jammed around a small table at the wall.  You may be wondering what yaki-tori is.  It’s basically chicken shish-kabob.  You can get different veggies on the skewers or different flavors of chicken, like curry or wasabi (both of which were delicious). 

So what do you do after dinner your first night in Tokyo?  Why, karaoke, of course!  I knew that karaoke was very popular in Japan, but I never realized the extent of it until I made it to Tokyo.  Karaoke is to Tokyo what coffee is to Seattle.  It wasn’t uncommon to see a karaoke place on every block in some parts of the city; sometimes they were even right across the street from each other.  After an hour of singing and laughing we were tired enough to call it a night, ready to hit the zoo the next day.

Cool giraffe beats lazy panda 10 days out of 10.

We woke up and grabbed the free hostel breakfast of toast, nescafe, and soft-boiled eggs.  Not quite my cup of tea, but when we left the hostel we found a bakery right next to the local train station.  Bakeries and baked goods in general are not very common in Japan, so almost every other morning of our trip we stopped there for breakfast.  So many carbs.  Mmm.   But we didn’t know about the bakery that first morning, so it was some toast with jam and we were off to the Ueno Zoo.  The highlight of the zoo happened right after we got there at the giraffe pen.  On giraffe and found a low spot in the fence and was reaching his neck over to snack on some of the vegetation.  Eric was able to get close enough to feed it a leaf or two and got a nice lick in return.  The other animals were pretty cool, gorillas, polar bears, and I guess the panda was pretty cool too, but the giraffe was definitely the best part of the day.  After we were through with the zoo we decided to explore some other districts of Tokyo.  We ended up having ramen for dinner (don’t ask me why we don’t have ramen shops in America, I don’t know, but I do know that we are missing out).  After that we saw a sign for bowling, so we rolled a couple of games before making our way back to the hostel. 

Me and Splash Mountain

Day three, Friday, Disneyland.  We woke up a little earlier than we did to make it to the zoo, stopped at the bakery for breakfast, and hopped on the train to Mickey’s place.  The day started out nice, but it ended up raining in the afternoon through the evening. Brrrrr.  We still had a good time though; we didn’t let the rain stop us.  Splash mountain?  Of course.  Eric and I got seats in the very front of the ride and got a face full of splash after the big hill.  And they even got the rain to stop for the evening’s fireworks.  I was surprised by the amount of English inside the theme park.  It seemed like almost every sign in the park was written in both Japanese and English, but the English usually appeared on the signs above the Japanese.  And some signs didn’t have any Japanese on them at all.  Go figure.  One interesting part of the day was the parade they had in the afternoon.  About 45 minutes before the parade families started laying picnic blankets in orderly rows along the sides of the road and eating snacks while waiting for the parade to start.  Oh, and another thing I think might be particular to Tokyo Disney: churros, turkey legs, and popcorn.  They had plenty of food carts throughout the park, but these were the only three things they sold.  Weird.  Anyway, that was Disney.  We stayed till they closed and road the trains back to the hostel.  

Eric and Celeste under the Tokyo Tower.

We had no set agenda for Saturday, so we did some more exploring.  We spent a good part of the day in Asakusa, doing shopping in some shops that have been around since the Edo era of Tokyo (really old) and checking out some old shrines.  After doing some more exploring we ended up at the Tokyo Tower for sunset.  It was a little cloudy, but the sunset was still great.  We found a Victorian-style pub in Akihabara for dinner and I had some great shepherd’s pie.  Akihabara is famous for its electronics’ stores, so we popped into a couple before heading back home.  And what should I find in one, but the same toy train set that I had when I was a kid!  That brought back some memories.

I had these when I was a kid!  Oh, the memories.

There are plenty of interesting people in Tokyo, but they say that the place to find the most interesting folks is Sundays in Harajuku.  There are plenty of weird shops, and the district is famous for people dressing up in anime costumes and walking around.  We hoped to get a good show on Sunday, but it was pretty rainy and most of the costume people must have stayed home.  But the time in Harajuku was just to kill some time before the day’s main activity, set to happen that afternoon. 

This is where my dad taught.

As most of you know, this trip wasn’t the first time I’ve been in Tokyo.  I actually lived in Tokyo until just after I was two years old.  So I don’t remember any of it, but there are still plenty of people that remember me, so I thought I would take some time during our visit to pop over to my old stomping grounds.  After some effort with online train maps I was able to figure out how to get out to Higashimurayama.  I surprised myself with a memory on the way out there.  I don’t remember anything really about my time in Japan when I was little; who remembers anything from when they were two?  But when we were waiting for the train to take us there I did remember one thing: the yellow trains.  The train line to get from downtown Tokyo to Higashimurayama is bright yellow.  When the train approached the platform I was awash in a sea of nostalgia.  It wasn’t the sight of it so much that I remembered – more of a feeling brought on by the sight.  I didn’t really remember seeing the yellow train ever before, but I knew I had seen it.  Anyway, we got on the train and carefully watched the stops fly by until we reached our destination.  We were picked up by one of the few folks there that I actually had memories of because of his visits to America, Daniel Sexton, and he took us to the mission’s complex/seminary to attend the English church service there.  But first he gave us a tour of the seminary where my dad used to teach and my old house and everything.  It was neat to finally see the places I’ve heard all about, but, again, I didn’t really remember anything from my childhood.  The church service was great; it was the first time I’ve been in an English speaking church since coming to Japan.  We were very much welcomed in the service, and I got more than one shocked reaction from people when I introduced myself.  I’ve never met so many people that knew me even though I didn’t know them.  I even met a Japanese gentleman who translated for my grandfather when he preached over here. 

After the service came the highlight of the week.  But to really explain I have to tell a story about my dad from 23 years ago.  One day my dad was riding the train and saw an old woman get on the train, about half a car down.  The train was fairly packed, standing room only.  No one near the old woman was giving up their seat for her, so my dad (halfway down the train car) got her attention and gave his seat to her.  The old woman was not alone; her daughter was with her (Mrs. Komatsu).  Well, Mrs. Komatsu was so surprised at this act of kindness from a foreigner that she invited my dad over for tea.  So the Komatsu’s became some of my parents’ greatest friends here in Japan, and apparently I have them to thank for my current obsession with ebi-sen (shrimp-flavored chips).  They visited us once or twice in America when I was little, so I had a bit of memory of them but not much.  Anyway, when my dad heard we were going to be in Tokyo he gave me the Komatsu’s email and suggested that I get in touch with them.  It’s a little weird sending an email to someone along the lines of, “Hey, you knew me when I was a baby I think.  I’m going to be in town next Sunday, wanna hang out?”  But I sent the email anyways and arranged to meet up with the Komatsu’s at the English church service.  They showed up with two of their grandchildren (aged five and six) in tow.  We didn’t have much of a chance to chat at church, but they invited us to dinner at their home after the service and we eagerly accepted.  They went home right after the service to get the food started and picked us up a little later, after we had time to talk with some of the other people there after church.  

Us with the Komatsu's

I need to pause again to explain one of the greatest inventions Japan has to offer: the kotatsu.  It is standard in Japan for tables to be low down to the floor.  Chairs aren’t too common – usually you are sitting on a small cushion (called a zabuton) on the floor.  Flexibility is a big help in Japan as it is easiest to sit cross-legged or on your knees in these situations.  Also, Japanese winters are very cold, and Japanese houses do not have insulation or central heating.  But they do have the kotatsu.  Underneath the tablecloth is a large blanket that spreads out to cover your lap and legs nicely.  Beneath the table is a hole in the floor where you can stretch your legs.  And, best of all, at the bottom of that hole is a heater.  Very warm.  I wish I had one in my house here; I think I would sit down and never get up again.  Anyways, when we arrived at the Komatsu’s house they motioned to the kotatsu and we took our seats to wait for the food.  But there was a surprise waiting for us in the kotatsu: after we had been sitting down for a minute something brushed against my leg, and then I saw surprised looks on my friends’ faces.  All of a sudden two small smiling faces popped out from under the blanket.  It was the Komatsu’s grandkids, Kanon and Kein.  They had been very shy at church, but now that they were back at grandma and grandpa’s place the show could begin.  They were chatty and silly and making us laugh all through the meal.  And they both had shockingly good English.  It turns out they both went to an international preschool, all done in English.  So we could communicate with them quite easily, and they even helped translate for their grandparents once or twice. 

The meal started and seemed like it would never stop.  I’ve been fed a lot here in Japan; hospitality is very important.  But I have yet to have a meal like the one I had that night.  Dish after dish kept coming out of the kitchen, and Mrs. Komatsu kept telling us, “Stop talking and eat!”  More than once we thought the meal was over only to be surprised by more food, and then tea, and coffee, and desert, and fruit.  I’ve never felt so welcome in a new place ever before, and I will certainly be back there the next time I visit Tokyo.

Sky Tree to the left, and the Asahi Breweries HQ right behind me.

Monday was our last day in Tokyo.  New Year’s Eve.  We made our way early to the Sky Tree to get tickets and only had to wait two hours after getting the tickets before heading up the tower.  What a view!  Tokyo from 450 meters up is definitely worth the price of admission.  It was a cloudy day, so we couldn’t see Mt. Fuji, but we were still able to look down on all the skyscrapers.  Tokyo is interesting in how there isn’t one main central downtown area, but rather many districts crammed together.  Skyscrapers are almost scattered throughout the city, it seems like.  We were able to look out at the buildings and identify almost all the places we had been the past week. 

After we came down from the clouds we tried to head over to the Imperial Palace.  The palace itself is generally closed to the public, but the gardens are open to walk through.  Or at least we thought they were open.  And I guess most days they are, but for the New Year’s Eve holiday they were closed, as were most restaurants.  But we were able to find a noodle shop just before we started gnawing our hands off in hunger.  We spent the rest of the day doing some shopping, heading to a couple neighborhoods that were on our list that we hadn’t seen earlier in the week.  Around 11pm we made our way to the Meiji Shrine, the biggest Shinto shrine in Tokyo.  New Year’s in Japan is different than in America.  First of all, no fireworks.  That was a disappointment, but we got over it pretty quick.  The big thing to do on New Year’s is to go to a shrine for your first visit of the year.  So we stood outside the Meiji shrine with a couple thousand other folks to welcome in the year of the snake.  It wasn’t a very exciting event; I like to think of it as a good cultural experience.  There were police there, guiding the crowd, letting wave after wave of people go into the shrine, toss some money on a big tarp, and say a few prayers.  And then we filed out the side and walked back to the train station, ready for our last night at the hostel.  Trains and subways in Tokyo usually shut down just after midnight, but for the holiday the trains were to be running until four or five in the morning.  Apparently some people like to go shrine hopping throughout the city as part of their celebration.  I thought I had seen full trains before, but I guess I hadn’t.  I’ll be happy if I never have to physically shove my way on and off a train ever again.  Wow people. 

Totoro donut and a cup of coffee.

Tuesday morning we slept in.  Well, Celeste and I slept in.  Eric had left his ipod at Disneyland, so he got up early to retrieve it as the park opened.  Not a great way to spend your morning on New Year’s, but at least the ipod was waiting for him in the lost and found.  When he got back we made one last trip to our bakery and then found our way to the bus station to catch a ride home. 

It was interesting to be back in a city.  The past four months in Funehiki have been very quiet and peaceful.  Tokyo was full of people and noisy and flashy.  I didn’t realize that I actually missed a lot of that.  But the more I am out in the country, the more I am enjoying the calm that surrounds life here.  Tokyo was a great trip, and I look forward to my next visit, but it will be nice to slow back down to Funehiki pace for a while before I venture out again.  

Tokyo from the Sky Tree.