Cleanin' Time...

In Japanese schools they clean at around 3 o'clock in the arvo. That is, we clean the school. Sorry - the pupils, the pupils clean the school.

Right now there are first graders sweeping and vacuuming the corridors. There are more first graders emptying the bins. There are second graders hanging precariously over the ledges cleaning the outsides of the windows on the second floor (second graders mind you - this is not a job for a first grader, ho no!). Every afternoon I am cleaned up after by a thirteen year old. It feels wierd. Though slightly satisfying I must admit. The spectacular thing is that the students don't seem to mind. In fact,　they're positively chipper.

Of course I try to help out: I move my chair for them so they can get to those 'hard to reach' places under my desk; I tactfully avoid walking through the accumulated sweepings; I also refrain from beating them when they fail to tug their forlock at me.

Children: can't beat them, can't beat them....

I am constantly intimidated by these school kids, it true. They have abnormal talent. For example, a few days ago (it may have been weeks, one can't be sure) we had our "School Festival." This is the one day of the year that the students get the run of the school; putting on plays, concerts, setting up themed classrooms, burger bars, slush puppie stands (or whatever that concoction it was...nasty for sure) and generally arsing around doing what Japanese kids do best: hyperactivity.

Several concerts were held in the main hall. The philharmonic orchestra played Bizet's L'Arlésienne, Holst's Mars from the Planet Suite and some other things that I don't know. The audience seemed highly underwhelmed - or at least that's what their polite applause seemed to indicate. This was followed by the chamber orchestra. Followed by a string quartet and then a flute trio (Grabrielski apparantly).

Next was a recital program in a music room. Thirteen pieces on piano, organ, flute and combinations thereof ranging from Beethoven, Liszt (Liebestraum for bob's sake!), Gluck, and Chopin to some Japanese music I was hearing for the first time.

And then, and then. A performance of Romeo and Juliet in the first gym. Live bands called "Yoshi" and "TKG" in the second gym (rock, punk, good stuff - one lead singer had a sleeveless t-shirt saying "war is over" on it...bless him). They also decorated their classrooms: Haunted House (arms grabbing you from behind fake walls...), a Healing Room (massages and foot baths), a Planetarium (an Epcot-esque structure made of cardboard and painted black inside with pinpricks for stars). It was all very impressive. There were constant variety acts and costume competitions in the quad as well (I got to judge one of these, but my witty pronouncements in English went down not at all well).

A lunch hall was also running, entirely organised by the students, serving yakitori (kebob type things), yakisoba (fried noodles), burgers, fries, and pizza. Needless to say by the end of the day I was more tired than the kids. Because they're all on speed. Yep.

Fightin' Gaijin!

And onto the third frightfully exciting, terribly written and non-chronological installment that is Geoff’s Japanese adventure: this week, Geoff wings it.

It was my first official week as a teacher at the beginning of this month. My experience so far indicates that the teachers here assumed that because I can speak English I also have an in-depth knowledge of the grammatical rules and nuances of the language. Obviously. How to explain that while I know what verbs, adjectives, nouns, and adverbs are I am not a grammarian and cannot explain prepositional phrasing or clauses?

However, before that could kick off there had to be an ‘opening ceremony’ for the school term. There’s a closing ceremony too, and an end of year ceremony. And a beginning. And, oh, everything. Firstly the principal gave a speech, entirely in English. It was incredibly interesting: apparently, he bought a watermelon that was not empty, which I hear is terribly important. Also, it seems, he did not go to the World Expo in Aichi this summer because he was too lazy. It was fine though, he assured us, because the cartoon mascots for the expo visited him in a dream and made him happy. It was then my turn to give a speech, which of course, after his dazzling discourse was daunting. Nevertheless I ploughed on and received polite applause for my efforts at Japanese. Handily the Principal introduced me as being able to play the trumpet and the piano and that I play rubgy, football, cricket and tennis. This he gleaned from our conversation of a few days before – obviously the English teacher who was translating that conversation had it in for me, for as you all know I can do none of those things. I mentioned I had played the trumpet when I was younger, and that I would like to learn the piano and he asked what sports I liked. Ah well. Actually that conversation was very interesting, to a point. For most of it he wanted to discuss China and the West’s view of China as an emerging competitor. Japan are incredibly wary it seems, and rightly so. He was also very interested to hear, as he is a chemistry graduate, of the commercial viability, the domestic consumption, and the supply levels of North Sea oil; which I was more than able to ad-lib. Or lie convincingly.

Then it was onto lessons, lessons and more lessons. But more of that later.

I might have mentioned that we have discovered an excellent Indian restaurant called Santoshi. Robin and I are determined to become regulars, enough maybe to warrant a discount (fnar fnar). Last week we were there with some other JETs when I popped outside to wait for another JET who had got lost on his way. Outside was an old man hovering by a phone box. “American?” he asked, no Igirisu (British) I replied. “Ah! Enemy!” he said. Hmm. What? “America, Englando, France enemy! Japan, Germany, Italy strong!” Crikey, I thought – a fascist! And indeed he was. He went on to lament the sorry outcome of the war and the current state of Japan: apparantly as an American (ah no, igirisu…) I will get syphilis three times while I’m here. Firstly from teachers, then from housewives, and thirdly from school-girls. He’s obviously been hanging out with the wrong JETs. I thanked the friendly fellow and saw him on his way.　

Part of my introductory lesson is answering questions that the kids have written down for me in a previous class; here is a selection of the finest:
l What do you want now?
l Do you like Japanese boy?
l Do you love girl? Are you HG? (Hard Gay) Teacher’s comment on page “what is hard gay?”
l Why are you tall?
Ah, bless them. Japanese school kids are strange creatures. The girls walk around in groups wearing impossibly short skirts, constantly giggling to themselves over lord knows what. Saying hello, or indeed just walking by, will send them into a paroxysm of hysterical blushing and laughing. The boys range around with their school shirts split to the navel revealing the latest cool t-shirt. They try to be James Dean but end up more Torvill and Dean. The girlish locks and the preening doesn’t really help their cause, nor does their fashion sense: MC Hammer lives on in the hearts and trousers of Japanese schoolboys

It’s Monday morning I am in the teacher’s room surrounded by the sounds of the before-school club activities. Currently I can hear the choir practicing ‘panis angelicus’ by Cesar Franck and somebody else practicing ‘Liebestraum’ by Liszt on the piano. Not content with all being musical demi-gods they also insist on being sports superstars: the other day I watched some after-school tennis practice. Two lower form boys were throwing balls to one older boy who was whipping them back over the net like Agassi himself. This is all with the baseball games that start almost every other day at 6am, and the six to seven lesson school-days. These kids must be on amphetamines I swear….

Notes From a Wierd Island

Well, I can say that I've now settled in (though my intestines and bowels would at this moment violently disagree). Life sure is strange in the land of the individually wrapped banana: I was quite impressed the other day to see a huge bag of Mini McVities Chocolate Digestives in the local convini (Japanese for convenience store – Spar basically) – was less impressed when I discovered that the reason it was a huge bag was because each one of the mini digestives was wrapped in cellophane. They take these things too far you know: I bought a postcard this morning and that was individually wrapped. As was an apple I bought the day before. I’m going to suffocate in plastic…

Incidentally – who knew that Spar was a multinational giant? There’s a supermarket here called Hi-Tomato, which are everywhere, and next to their name is the Spar name and logo! They don’t stock handy sewing kits and tape measures though, or six cans of Spar lager for 3.99.

The lovely Robin arrived 11 days ago and we have been spending our spare hours (i.e. those few after work and during the weekend when not hung-over) setting up our tiny apartment. Had a very amusing half-hour at a second-hand furniture store miming "do you deliver?" until they went to get the lowly shop-boy who could speak English (I think that made his day actually, seemed very pleased...). My teachers seem oddly excited that Robin has arrived; they keep asking about her, pointing at me and saying Robin-san and talking away for minutes at a time. The other day I got in from lunch and the home economics teacher, Mezawa-sensei, took great delight in telling me that she’d seen me and Robin holding hands in the street – which was a little unsettling actually. Good job she didn’t see us smooching….

Being in Japan I can only keep up with the cricket by internet – the wonderful BBC. We lost the first test of course, but the second test was last weekend (as you know). When I looked up the scorecard on Tuesday morning I noticed England had levelled the Ashes; I smiled to myself and carried on as normal. Actually I let cry a primeval "whoop" in the office and followed it up with some air punching, and shouting "Howzat!! Howzat yer Australian swines! Yeeeee-Haaaaa!" My Japanese colleagues were quite shocked. That is one or two of them squinted slightly. It’s hard to get anything out of these chaps. One day last week I’d been practicing all day saying “Osaki ni shitsurei shimasu” which means basically “I’m off now, sorry to leave before you” which I have to say to the highest ranking teacher in the room when I leave for the day – normally the Kyoto-sensei (vice-principle). So I walked up to his desk, gave a little bow and said my bit. In return I got a short grunt and a cursory glance in my direction before he got back to that very important nap he was pretending not to have. My supervisor said the next day how very pleased and impressed with my behaviour the Kyoto-sensei had said he was. Odd people this lot.

Last night – Sunday – was the “Kureha High School Philharmonic Orchestra 21th Anuual Regular Concert” (yep – the 21th: I think the musical director must have a lithp) and I was expected to go – as was Robin (“This ticket that Kyoto-sensei very kindly got for you for your Robin he went to lot of trouble to get ticket and you must thank him it very difficult for Robin to come but now she can we are very rooking forward to meeting her….”) Lucky Robin. The concert was awful: an hour and a half of mechanical, out of tune, and out of time music. But for a High School orchestra that’s good isn’t it? The program was Sibelius, Dvorak’s Slavic Dances, and symphony No.8 (packed full of hits that last one). Ambitious neh? The Dvorak involves lots of French horn and clarinet and those, unfortunately, seemed to be the only two sections in the orchestra who really shouldn’t have figured prominently – if at all. Stage hands maybe. I started feeling sorry for the poor buggers after a while. I think the clarinetist was going to cry after her fifth attempt at getting her bit right (you know the theme from the Hovis ads?) And two of the four French horns I’m sure were mercilessly pinched after the concert by the other two horns – one seemed unwilling to empty the spit out his horn, adding a whimsical underwater effect to the whole thing, and the other didn’t seem to know what was going on at all, constantly playing several scales above everyone else. Still they did an encore of Land of Hope and Glory which was quite rousing – or would have been if they hadn’t been so mechanical. I dragged Robin around the lobby after, making sure the right teachers saw my face and met Robin (Yamazaki-sensei the calligraphy teacher: “oh, she is very cuuute”), before scarpering to the nearest pub.

When we’re not in school ALTs tend to get together and drink a lot. Last weekend we went up to Himi, a coastal town, for a beach party. They’ve got pubs on the beach itself so a fine afternoon of drinking, leaping theatrically off platforms in the sea, and extreme Frisbee was had by all. We followed it up with Indian food from, so far, the best Indian place in the Ken (county) and rounded it off with a few games of electronic darts, ping-pong and karaoke at a local complex-thing. Avoided the karaoke this time round. Couldn’t avoid a drunken cycle home though. Talking of which – I got my bloody bike stolen Saturday night. Robin and I met up with some friends in town for some pool and beers – come midnightish we went to look for our bikes only to find mine gone (Robin had borrowed a friend’s since she hadn’t got one yet). Admittedly I hadn’t locked mine up – I haven’t since I got here as it is so old it has faded to grey, is falling apart, the lock is buggered, and I’d been told that tea-leafery was rare. Lydia, a second year, told me that I should just take one of the other bikes there. Nick one in other words, people do it all the time apparently. It’s a vicious cycle…..b-boom boom tssshhhhh…..thankyouverymuch. Well, I was terribly terribly drunk at the time so I did. Then the next day I felt really bad about it and took it back (I’m sure there’s a pun there somewhere about karma, but I’m buggered if I can see it). Apparently they do that a lot too – just borrow it for the night. Though they don’t seem to have returned mine yet….
Bought new bikes the day after actually – Robin got a red one of course. However the only bike they had big enough for me was a second hand 21 gear Bridgestone mountain bike. Quite nice actually, and cheap too. So far neither has been nicked. We double lock see…..

However, all told, I don’t think this Japanese thing will be so bad – last night I found a foreign store that sells Banrock Station Shiraz, Shiraz Cabernet, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot by the box (OK, not the best wine but it is familiar, which is nice, and a box contains three bottles for 1200 yen, approx six pounds), Yellow Tail, Beaugeolais, and Chianti. Other delights included Guinness, Victoria Bitter, Heineken, Kalhua, pickles, olives, real rice (not the sticky Japanese type which tires easily), and stacks of other good stuff. Heinz Baked Beans were a scandalous 400 yen (two pounds) a tin. Am not that desperate yet, but it is nice to know they’re there. There was no Brains however so if anybody wants to take pity on a thirsty Welshman stuck in foreign climes…

We found an Ikea-esque store downtown called the 'Home Piasa' and have been there several times in the last week. So much so that the one English-speaking girl who works tries to hide whenever she sees us come in. Last night – cycling home from our latest excursion (extendable clothes pole, pillow, bin, curtains, another futon – to be delivered) – we passed through the main shopping thoroughfare of Toyama: it’s great, packed full of western-style boutiques with really weird names – Tomorrow Man Part II is a good one, as is The Big Muff. There’s also a local drink, much like the Pocari Sweat of my previous missive, called Calpis – pronounced of course by most JETs as cow-piss. Chocolate covered coffee beans (one of my London staples) here are called ‘Business Assist Chocolate.

T-shirts with Engrish slogans on them are quite the item here. Saw a girl wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Low Fat Milk vs Skim Milk’ – which is an important debate I think. Another said ‘Look At This Bitch.’ There’s a bit of a competition in the JET community for the wackiest shirt, so far "I am A Girl, Lets Enjoying Ourselves" is winning. The local department store, the Marier, has a campaign in called "Marier de Hunting", with some kanji (Japanese pictograms) thrown in. It translates as "Marier Hunting the Autumn," which is what you want your David Morgans to be doing really isn’t it?

Just saw a spectacle of surreal magnificence. As I was walking to school a xylophone started to blare form the car park of a nearby high tech firm – the building a sleeck bubble of plastic and glass. As this nursery-time plinky plonky continued a voice track came on and out of every previously unseen door came men, young and old, in answer to the music -- like the Eloi people from HG Wells' The Time Machine. It was soon obvious that this was part of that famous Japanese work culture where they might exercise or sing the company song or ritually cut themselves before the workday begins. This one seemed to be a variation of Tai-chi – only unlike the hundreds of Chinese I’ve seen doing it in Beijing parks this one was far more Tellytubby-esque with the music and the disembodied voice. They chatted and laughed to each other as they moved but I couldn’t keep from my head the scene from '1984' of Winston Smith in front of the telescreen doing the mandatory 'Physical Jerks' and being screamed at by the state-instructor: "6079 Smith W.! Yes, you! Bend lower, please! You can do better than that. You're not trying. Lower! That's better, comrade"

Tokyo

Well, here I am in Japan then.

Tokyo was mostly　ｆun, if totally exhausting. Didn't really see much of it as we were stuck in lectures most of the　time (and pretty useless they were too...I'd rather have got more sleep). Was out every night drinking in Shinjuku, the area of Tokyo where we were staying, unfortunately mostly in British theme pubs because we didn't know what was a Japanese pub and what wasn't.　 Did however get to go to a very posh Japanese restaurant on the last night where　we stayed until we were thrown out. Having no knowledge of Japanese I ordered what looked like a nice meal and got a bowl of stone cold ramen noodles with a nasty cold sauce on the side.　 At least beer has a universal taste.　

Have been to lots of JET welcome dinners and drinking parties (called 'enkai') and made some good friends over extremely large G&Ts. Have also done karaoke more times in the last week than I have in my entire life. It's surprisingly easy after your fifth cocktail.　 And you voice doesn't sound too bad then either....I do a mean rendition if Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones. However, my excellent　impression of Bob Dylan's 'Just Like a Woman' was a little overshadowed by the reaction to　the lyric　"and she breaks just like a little girl..."

The festivities are finally over, that is until Wednesday　when Group B arrives (bringing the lovely Robin with it).　Is probably a good idea to have a day or two off.　Stayed out til 7am Sunday morning　and was as　horribly ill sunday: dizzy, lightheaded, nauseous, disorientated, hallucinating (slightly), and hearing things.　 Eventually –　after　reading the same page of my book several times, and having a totally unsuccessful nap punctuated by really freakish dreams　-- I worked out that I was dehydrated.　 Drank four litres of Pocari Sweat (an unfortunately named yet popular　isotonic drink)　and fruit juice and water and lay down for the rest of the day having more crazy dreams and out-of-body experiences.　Felt only slightly shitty this morning.

It's the summer holidays for all of August so I wont start teaching until the second term which starts September 1st when my first class will be English Composition.　 However, I still have to go in　on-fri 8.30-4.15 as the teachers still work - lesson plans and so on, and alot of skiving from what I can see.　I am desperately reading the textbooks I'll be teaching with and coming up with ideas for the weekly essay I have to set and then mark (that's going to be pretty cool actually: "this week class we will be writing about Wales' fantastic victory over England in the 2005 Six Nations Championship"...ho ho ho could have　one Six Nations victory a week....).　I'm also working on the introduction I'll have to give at the beginning of term - in Japanese, to the entire school at　the opening ceremony. Oo-er.
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My school is Kureha Senior High School, which is in a town called Kureha one train stop out from Toyama city, where I live in 4 room apartment which I'm told by the second and thirds years ALTs is extremely large for Toyama city centre. Kureha High is too cool for school. It has about 700 children aged 16-18, with two-thirds girls to one-third boys. It also has the only music department in the prefecture. Kids commute from all over the prefecture just for it. It is pretty amazing; it has about 10 baby grand pianos in individual sound booths and a mini concert hall.

I've met a few of the students already as they about a quarter of them still come to school (in their uniforms no less, which apparently they're quite proud of - wierdos) for school clubs and to study and so on. The student school day is pretty harsh actually. The day starts at 8.30am, but there will be before-school clubs for most subjects for an hour or two. Six 50-minute lessons in the day with only a ten minute break in the morning and a forty minute lunch break followed by after-school clubs and an hour or two of homework. Its common to see kids walking home from school at around 7pm while you're out drinking with your mates....

I have just read over this email and realised that it is terribly written and slightly incoherent. I blame the heat. I have a 15-minute walk to the train station in the morning and have been drenched in sweat every morning so far. In fact if the teacher's room wasn't air conditioned I'd be drenched all day. I hear it helps to wear a vest to hide the sweat marks (that would be my entire shirt...) but I'm buggered if I'm going to wear layers in this heat! The classrooms are not air conditioned so I hate to think what it'll be like in September. Nor are they heated in winter (average temperature 3c, hooray!).

That's really all I've got at the moment. I've just bought lunch from the combini (convenience store) around the corner - a very nice triple decker ham, salad and egg-mayo sandwich. On the front of the package it says in English: "Fresh Sandwich. This sandwich is fresh, homemade, and delicious. We want you to try to eat this sandwich". Aah, bless their little socks.....