HAIR!

The other morning I woke up looking like this:



...and it occurred to me that maybe I should get a haircut. And maybe see a doctor. Actually, a haircut first occurred to me a few weeks ago when Robin began to call me Farrah. At first I was flattered; who wouldn’t want to be compared to that crime-fighting tawny-haired angel? Then it occurred to me then that Farrah is a ridiculous name. Also that she is a girl.

Still, I resisted. Many are the afternoons I have whiled away remembering fondly the days when I had long flowing locks; when ladies, young and mostly old, cooed and drooled over my soft mane. I was vital and carefree; a vigorous young sprite. I can have that always, I thought.

Unfortunately the only thing hair like this says is that you need help. And some personal hygiene tips too:



The last time I visited a barber in Japan I knew absolutely no Japanese, so I took with me a photo of myself of when I was young and handsome, and had hair. Unfortunately it was a long distance shot and the barber was one of those ‘clippers only’ types. I came out of the salon looking like this:



I have since tried to stay away from the barber, sculpting my increasingly lengthening locks in the mornings with my cap.

When I turned in the classroom yesterday and caught my reflection in a window. I had had a wild two inches of hair poking out at a right angle from the side my head and a single thick curl dangling down my forehead for the entire lesson, and indeed most of the day. I knew I could not go on. Straight after school I went to the barber and whipped out my phrasebook for “not too much off please.” I was more nervous getting a trim than I was performing in the charity show. Thankfully, I didn’t need the phrase which was situated handily at the end of the ‘At The Salon’ section of my book: “You fool! I should never have let you near me!”



Well done. Well done everybody on that one.

You Can Check Out Any Time You Like, But You Can Never Leave

You know who I used to really hate? Involvers. Those bloody happy can-do people who are involved in every worthwhile thing you can think of. Charity working, volunteering, bloody social-organisers. Those types who insist on playing those ridiculous get-to-know-you games at company seminars or parties, and think it’s cool. Those cheery bloody people. I hated them. However, since doing JET I have this horrible feeling I might have turned into one of them. I’m the kind of guy who sits at the back, who will grudgingly get up and initiate something only if absolutely no-ones else looks like doing it, and wasting my day. I have been known to dive into a shop merely to avoid small-talk when spotting an acquaintance in the street. Or feign sleep on the train. Or so I thought. I was, until recently, involved in the Toyama Jet Charity Show, specifically 'Cinderella' (the musical). On hearing about this my friend James, a university friend and former-JET now living in Tokyo with his lovely Japanese wife, said: “Geoff? What? You sad bastard, you’ve not become one of them have you?” and I knew exactly who he meant.

When meeting and talking to Japanese people, and teachers, you know the conversation will certainly go nowhere, but you still have to have it. Part of the JET job-description is 'small-talk.' Being involved is mandatory, so practice is useful.

We started way back after Christmas, and rehearsed twice a week. Eventually rehearsal started to eat into my bowling time, into my ekaiwa time, into my Robin-time. So the only thing for it was to make it enjoyable – by drinking through it. Brad and I (another unfortunate) resolved to never be sober for rehearsal, and indeed to be drunk on the day of the performance. For this reason I can say in a loud clear voice – I am not an involver!

Last Saturday was the big day. Two performances were scheduled for the morning and evening. We of course had to be there at 9am to have a run-through. After the run through, over some refreshments in the dressing room, Brad suggested a change.

“Hey Geoff, we should totally fight”
“Well I am feeling feisty...”
“No no, when we’re guards, we should have a fight at the beginning of the scene, y’know, because are characters are so bored. A hand slapping girly fight, with nunchucks”
“That’s a great idea! More champagne?”
“Why yes, thanks!”

Just before the first performance I found Brad slumped near the lights rigging:

“Brad, I’ve thought of something totally funny”
“Is it my penis?”
“No, though that is hilarious. I should do a ‘Kenny’ in the third scene. I should mumble really loud, y’know, because, hic, we’re wearing these ridiculous ninja head wraps, and then, hic, put my finger up, all Monty Python-like, and take off my mask and then do my line”
“You mean like breaking the fourth wall?”
“Exactly”
“That’s a great idea! More beer?”
“Why yes, thanks!”

So on we went, and of course the crowd went wild. A stunning success.

Before the second performance we were sequestered in the dressing room by the director, to ensure we wouldn’t get ‘lost.’ We watched the preceding variety show on the in-house monitors.

“Brad, would you look at that!”
“What?”
“Jimmy. I’ve just been in the wings watching him, you’d totally think he’s singing Pavarotti rather than miming, he’s even got the sweat down!”
“That Jimmy sure is a legend”
“Yep. More wine?”
“Why yes, thanks!”

At this point a Japanese lady with a microphone burst into the room with a man with a TV camera. Ah, foreigners! Let's make them eat natto and film them vomiting ha ha ha ha. We quickly hid all traces of wine and beer and made welcoming noises. First with a camera in his face was Adam, who plays the part of Prince Charming's Best friend 'Hard Gay', this is him:

He politely ate a few beans. Next was Nick, Footman to the Prince, who shovelled down the natto like he loved it, which he did. The camera didn't find this entertaining. Next up was Tim the director. He made a great show, proclaiming to love natto as much as he loves his dear old mum. He obviously finds his mother vile. Then it was my turn. "Mmmm" I said, "Mmmm....Um. Mmph! Hur! Hhhurrrrr. Ack, ack! Wine! Wine, quickly now!" And so to Brad. Brad is a strange fish. Somehow he can do totally disgusting things - like dribble spit and natto down his chin while making retching noises and half crying - and it's more funny than it is disgusting. As soon as they put the segment on tv I will upload it here.

Unfortunately it is not yet possible to show you the outcome of the show. We ended up extremely sweaty, and some might say drunk. Until the JET nerds figure out a way to get the theatre feed onto a DVD I give you:

(Click on images to enlarge)

Salad Days at Rehearsal



Rehearsal Video (with sound)


Pre-show English Practice



Trees



Ninjas



Prince Charming and his 'Best Friend'



Mr and Mrs Cinderella


Finale


Party Hardy



Buggered

"Our Chief Weapon is Surprise..."

Japan really is a country of extremes. In winter there is three feet of snow for four months solid. In summer it is so hot you have to wade through sweat and melted pavement. Throughout this it rains. All the time.

It is also a country of personal extremes. I haven't experienced such high highs and low lows since puberty. The slightest thing will touch off an almost hysterical good mood, or a black dog of a bad one. In the final stretch of this grand adventure I find myself becoming more and more unwilling to tolerate the slightest incompetence, inconvenience, or oversight. Whilst in a perfectly pleasant mood cycling to school in the mornings I have found myself shouting at the driver who fails, again, to even consider looking left as he shoots out of a side road. Sometimes, in the face of the stunningly inconsiderate intractability of my supervisor I have had to leave the room to prevent myself from snapping. I once had to go to the empty meeting room as I could feel a 'Basil Fawlty' coming on. For the last year I have thought of these moods, these situations created by external factors, as challenges. As a growing experience. In the last two days however I have lost my temper in school, twice.

8.15am
Me: Ohayo gozaimas...good morning... ah, Honda-san, high five, yeah!....Hey there!.....and ohayo gozaimas to you too kyoto-sensei......So sensei, what's the schedule today, pretty bare eh?
'Supervisor': Ah good morning Geoff-san. You have only one lesson today.
Me: Wicked, is that 6th period?
'Supervisor': Yes Geoff-san, ne, 6th period.
Me: cool.....doobey dooby dooo....

10.30am
Me: Aaah, what a good book that was. Hmm, what time is it? Plenty of time til my lesson at 2pm. Hmm, should do some marking...maybe a coffee first.
JTE: Geoff-san, ne, etto, please... kind of paper.... lesson.
Me: Sorry?
JTE: Sorry....throat....voice...chotto.

12.55pm
Me: Hmm, lunchtime I think. Sausage sandwich, caesar salad with ranch, mmm, apricots. I'll just pop this in the microwa-
JTE: Geoff-san, let's go.
Me: Excuse me?
JTE: Lesson... now, 12.55.
Me: Ha ha, no, it's not 'til 2.20, 6th period. Ha ha, you must have made a mistake.
JTE: No. Now. Schedule is changey. 6th period is now.
Me: ......Of course it is! Of course it's now! Because as usual nobody tells me anything!
JTE: ...?....
Me: Okay, right! I'm coming I'm coming, but I have to just ... Excuse me, Kishida-sensei, I thought my lesson was at sixth period?
'Supervisor': Ne, maybe it is now. The board, hmm, 1.55 it is.
Me: 1.55? But, it's 12.55 now. Mase-sensei, she's...why did no-one? Nobody ever... fine.

You see, I'm the kind of chap who doesn't like things sprung on him; not a fan of the 'last-minute' (at least, when it's being dictated by somebody else). Especially when it's as inflexible as a Japanese teacher blinking at you.

After the lesson I felt a bit abashed and apologised for my behaviour:

Me: I'm sorry I got annoyed before, it's just it's frustrating when-
JTE: Yes, you are eating your lunch.
Me: Yes, well, it's not that, I don't mind missing lunch, it's just that it's very difficult when nobody-
JTE: I have lost my voice.
Me: Yes, well, yes, so - it's sometimes hard to prepare when nobody tells me when the school is on the alternate schedule...
JTE: You will eat your lunch?
Me: Sorry?.............yes. I will eat my lunch now.


Today. Arrived at school at 12.30 after visiting the special school where I was made to make two students who cannot speak , at all, have a conversation with each other entirely in gurgles.

12.45
Hmm, nice lunch. Do some marking now.

12.46
Oh no. What? Oh for the love of...! Grrroan. Ohhh gaaawwwd. Maybe I'll check my mail.

1.30
Have agonising conversation with supervisor about flights.

1.55
JTE: Geoff-san, lets go.
Me: Hmm? Our lesson is not until 7th period, no?
'Supervisor': Now, Geoff-san. Only 45 minutes today. Different schedule.
Me: Oh. Right. Now? You're telling me this now?
'Supervisor': Only 45 minutes.
Me: ......
'Supervisor': ......
JTE: ......
Me: Right! Come on then, let's go! Actually, I'll have to meet you in the class sensei - I have to run to the toilet, because I thought I had more time. Because nobody told me anything. Again!

Mars Ain’t the Kind of Place to Raise the Kids

“You know, Max is right. We have found the loophole in life here,” said a friend of mine the other day as he sipped on his extra dry martini with three olives.
“You might be right,” I replied, pulling on my cigar, “this could be the greatest gig ever, if you were so inclined”
“Well yes, if you were so inclined”
“Still not contracting for another year though eh?”
“Hoss, you know I handed in my refusal forms a month after I got here. Bar-keep, another round of martinis for me and my friend…”

You see, teaching English is hell when the people you teach with cannot themselves speak the English that you know and love, i.e. proper English.

As a child my father was constantly nagging me for my terrible use of the vernacular; for implying things totally other than my intentions. Conversations would often go like this:

“Daaaad, can I go over Ian’s house he’s got this new lego see and it’s wicked and his mum’s making orange squash and I haven’t done my homework yet but I will and Dad why is the sky grey?”
“You want to go over Ian’s house, Geoffrey? Are you going to jump over it? Fly over it perhaps?’
“……can I go to Ian’s house?”
“Yes, I’m sure you can, it shouldn’t be too difficult”
“…May I go to Ian’s house?”
“Yes. And the sky is grey because we live in Wales”

One of many. Now of course I am highly grateful to my father for instilling me with the ability to speak English properly, and to be able to take the piss out of those who can’t, especially England footballers. However, this ability is becoming my undoing. In Japan it is slowly driving me mad.

You know of my daily battle with essays and various homework, and with the unbelievable ‘wrongness’ of the English used by students in spite of being taught the correct way not ten minutes previously. I also have to endure the idiosyncrasies of the teachers. And by ‘idiosyncrasies’ I am trying to be kind.

Here is a selection of classroom English that my JTEs often use:

Whilst explaining a handout:
“Pick up this kind of paper. Look at this kind of paper.”

JTE explaining why you have to do something:
“In case of me I do not do this so from you.”

JTE wrapping up the class:
“So much for today’s lesson”

JTE instructing students which page to turn to in their textbooks:
“Open your textbook pagey sirty-seven.” In the middle of a lesson.

“You look at these sentence. These sentences is important.”

Explaining to me when what exactly to do about my flight home:
JTE: Ne, you, ne, so, tuesday, you had to send.
Me: Had to send, when? Send what?
JTE: Form.
Me: What form?
JTE: This form, ne.
Me: When?
JTE: Maybe next tuesday. To someone. Someone will look at it. Ne.
Me: So I had to send it maybe next Tuesday? Rrriiiight.

Every few weeks we receive an 'update' newsletter from the Toyama Board of Education on the exciting things happening in the world of internationalisation. This week, because I was so incredibly bored with marking essays, I decided to mark the newsletter. In two paragraphs of ten lines each I found 34 grammatical mistakes. Seriously.

I can't blame the kids for their terrible English, as it seems they are taught that way by those who can't. I'll leave you with some posters you can find around my school. I used to think they were quirky, funny even. Now they merely drive me insane.