I'd rather french kiss a French man
Among the various discussions Robin and I had about whether to re-contract, a common factor against was the very raison d’etre of a JET – teaching in a Japanese school. This far outweighed the all periphery benefits of our crazy life here.
The normal working day is 8.30am to 5.10pm. That adds up to 45 hours a week, of a possible 168. Add to that the need to sleep at least seven hours a night – 49 hours a week – and you get (I’ll wait while you do the maths….dooobeydoobeydoo…) that’s right - 94 hours. Now, add on all the hours involved in the rigmarole of having a job (commuting, preparing etc.)and you get around 104 hours a week, of 168, that we have to spend on, or preparing for, teaching in school.
Now don't get me wrong - this is part of having a job, I know this and indeed am well acquainted with it. Everybody everywhere who works has to do this. But when it is a job that you don't necessarily love (and I've had one or two of those ) then it becomes something to think about.
I did have a point before the mathematical ramble, and it was this: I spend so much time at school with people that annoy me that I should really talk about them more.
Due to the public nature of this medium, and the possibility that the higher-ups at the Toyama Board of Education might read this (as has happened to some JETs here), I might - when I am being less than pleasant - slip into a somewhat obfuscatory style of writing.
A certain teacher (whose main function is related to me in a somewhat overseeing nature), I think, hates me. Well, not me (surely not!), but me as an ALT. This person has a habit of not telling me things I need to know until the absolute last minute, sometimes even after that, with the helpful comment “maybe I should have told you that before…” In class this person will use inappropriate subjects concerning my private life as pedagogic examples. Nothing rude, but stuff that I would generally not talk to you about unless you were a very good friend of mine or I was drunk. (Don’t be offended when reading this; if you and I have been involved in the latter then more than likely you’re also the former). Her choice of Anglo-communication is sometimes contradictory to what she is trying to say and is often so abrupt as to be rude.
When announcing the end of every lesson with me she’ll say “So much for today’s lesson.” When trying to get my contribution to the teacher’s party fund she’ll say “You give me X yen, now.” Yesterday she told me ten minutes before I was leaving, “There are two student outside. You have to coach them for the speech contest. It is ten minutes before your working time is over. They are waiting.” This, however, is a trait that many Japanese speakers of English apparently share, because of the way Japanese is spoken. It does get on my nerves though.
Of the colleagues with whom I am most often occupied in my present vocation I really enjoy my relationship with less than one of them. I can bear, however, two of them because they are actually pretty decent at what they do and actually use me effectively.
Of my other colleagues who hang around the staff room there are a few who, if I were to stay longer, I would try to get to know. One is concerned with a science of a numerical nature, and also a subject more concerned with machines and their informational ability. He is the obvious ‘lad’ in the room; our conversations normally revolve around the kinds of beers we like. The other is culinarilly inclined, and is quite domineering. She is also quite a lad, and funny judging by the laughs she gets (that might however be forced laughter – she is quite scary).
The kyoto-sensei (Vice Principal) is a likeable old kook. He often jokes around with the students (especially Matsuda, a second grader who knows enough English to be annoying but is a useful English-teaching tool as a class clown). Now and then we’ll have a conversation about the weather. This is because I know the Japanese words for hot, cold, snow, and rain and he knows the English equivalents. Knowing these words in Japanese is a must in Toyama; if Toyama were a state in the union it would be called ‘The Umbrella State.’
Our photocopying lady is worth a mention; she is extremely quiet and has a shitty job, but she always looks if not apathetic then at least not pissed off with her lot. She’s young compared to everyone else here. She’s one of those people who you can imagine either spending their nights at home in front of the fire surrounded by cats and drinking cocoa, or, out on the town downing shots and dancing on tables to the latest tunes.
And back to the beginning point – I spend five days a week with my co-workers. This week I spent six days. And. They. Drive. Me. Crazy.
Apologies for the lateness of this post, and indeed it’s dullness, but little has happened of late worth writing about. Anyway, I might have some excitement soon; I’ve just realised that if any of the learned people at the Board of Education come across this blog my circumlocutionary style will not save me: they’ve only to look at the address bar to know who I am.
The normal working day is 8.30am to 5.10pm. That adds up to 45 hours a week, of a possible 168. Add to that the need to sleep at least seven hours a night – 49 hours a week – and you get (I’ll wait while you do the maths….dooobeydoobeydoo…) that’s right - 94 hours. Now, add on all the hours involved in the rigmarole of having a job (commuting, preparing etc.)and you get around 104 hours a week, of 168, that we have to spend on, or preparing for, teaching in school.
Now don't get me wrong - this is part of having a job, I know this and indeed am well acquainted with it. Everybody everywhere who works has to do this. But when it is a job that you don't necessarily love (and I've had one or two of those ) then it becomes something to think about.
I did have a point before the mathematical ramble, and it was this: I spend so much time at school with people that annoy me that I should really talk about them more.
Due to the public nature of this medium, and the possibility that the higher-ups at the Toyama Board of Education might read this (as has happened to some JETs here), I might - when I am being less than pleasant - slip into a somewhat obfuscatory style of writing.
A certain teacher (whose main function is related to me in a somewhat overseeing nature), I think, hates me. Well, not me (surely not!), but me as an ALT. This person has a habit of not telling me things I need to know until the absolute last minute, sometimes even after that, with the helpful comment “maybe I should have told you that before…” In class this person will use inappropriate subjects concerning my private life as pedagogic examples. Nothing rude, but stuff that I would generally not talk to you about unless you were a very good friend of mine or I was drunk. (Don’t be offended when reading this; if you and I have been involved in the latter then more than likely you’re also the former). Her choice of Anglo-communication is sometimes contradictory to what she is trying to say and is often so abrupt as to be rude.
When announcing the end of every lesson with me she’ll say “So much for today’s lesson.” When trying to get my contribution to the teacher’s party fund she’ll say “You give me X yen, now.” Yesterday she told me ten minutes before I was leaving, “There are two student outside. You have to coach them for the speech contest. It is ten minutes before your working time is over. They are waiting.” This, however, is a trait that many Japanese speakers of English apparently share, because of the way Japanese is spoken. It does get on my nerves though.
Of the colleagues with whom I am most often occupied in my present vocation I really enjoy my relationship with less than one of them. I can bear, however, two of them because they are actually pretty decent at what they do and actually use me effectively.
Of my other colleagues who hang around the staff room there are a few who, if I were to stay longer, I would try to get to know. One is concerned with a science of a numerical nature, and also a subject more concerned with machines and their informational ability. He is the obvious ‘lad’ in the room; our conversations normally revolve around the kinds of beers we like. The other is culinarilly inclined, and is quite domineering. She is also quite a lad, and funny judging by the laughs she gets (that might however be forced laughter – she is quite scary).
The kyoto-sensei (Vice Principal) is a likeable old kook. He often jokes around with the students (especially Matsuda, a second grader who knows enough English to be annoying but is a useful English-teaching tool as a class clown). Now and then we’ll have a conversation about the weather. This is because I know the Japanese words for hot, cold, snow, and rain and he knows the English equivalents. Knowing these words in Japanese is a must in Toyama; if Toyama were a state in the union it would be called ‘The Umbrella State.’
Our photocopying lady is worth a mention; she is extremely quiet and has a shitty job, but she always looks if not apathetic then at least not pissed off with her lot. She’s young compared to everyone else here. She’s one of those people who you can imagine either spending their nights at home in front of the fire surrounded by cats and drinking cocoa, or, out on the town downing shots and dancing on tables to the latest tunes.
And back to the beginning point – I spend five days a week with my co-workers. This week I spent six days. And. They. Drive. Me. Crazy.
Apologies for the lateness of this post, and indeed it’s dullness, but little has happened of late worth writing about. Anyway, I might have some excitement soon; I’ve just realised that if any of the learned people at the Board of Education come across this blog my circumlocutionary style will not save me: they’ve only to look at the address bar to know who I am.
posted by Geoff at 11:34 PM
2 Comments:
If one of the higher ups does read your blog he will surely die.........
...
...OF TOO MUCH FUNNY!!!
or too much english...
Heh. Death by english. There may be something to that...
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