Lost In Translation

Once upon a time, an English teacher came to work in a little town on the edge of Osaka. He was in his mid-twenties, three years out of university and in a bit of a lull. The English teacher was confused, more than anything, by the fact he was not really even an English teacher. He had just completed an intense, exhilarating, frustrating, sometimes traumatic - but always rewarding, two-year period working for a dynamic organisation and in a team of fantastic people. His brain was tired and so was his body, but that said, he was content, or so he thought - with what he had accomplished in the last two years and similarly with the ones that had gone before. He had no regrets. His mind had not stopped in the last ten years, awash almost always with ideas and things he was working on; from exams, to coursework, to more exams and then into the professional environment; with meetings, targets, new ideas, projects, budgets, problems, and theirsolutions. His mind had never been blank before; his brain had never taken a holiday prior to today. But now, for the first time, it had stopped.

All the creativity and energy had gone and he did not know where, or how, he could find it again. He became lethargic and frustrated with the world around him, no longer with purpose or direction. He was too tired from the previous years to see clearly and as a result he could not be bothered with what was going on straight in front of him. He just grew angrier and angrier when he failed to rediscover his spark, arguing with those closest to him and failing to see the beauty of what was happening so subtly in front of his eyes - which was so magnificent, unique and wonderful that it was a shame he did. His new job as an English teacher frustrated him the most. It was not taking him where he wanted to go, not that he knew exactly where that was. The kids he worked with were shy and the barrier between them seemed insurmountable. He was no longer fulfilled, at least in a professional sense. He was unsure of his identity and his ideology. His hopes and dreams, he still had some but not the passion and the commitment that had served him so well in implementing them before. He had grown stale, stagnant and cynical.

It will come as no surprise to you that I am describing myself a few months ago. That was exactly how I felt shortly after I came here. Five months later Ive come to realise though, the thing about Japan is that, well, its exactly like a child. Loud, incomprehensible and difficult at first, but if you give it enough time it will eventually get under your skin. In many ways that surmises my experience here. The word life changing is bandied about far to much to really mean anything for someone who returns from travelling and I wont use it, but, having said that, the things I have experienced through living and teaching here have slowly worked their way beneath my skin and as I look back on my time I can see that Japan with all its good and bad points, has affected how I think about the world and, most definitely, has awoken me from my slumber.

The kids have been fantastic and undoubtedly were instrumental in that. Once I broke through that communication barrier, their energy and enthusiasm astonished me, (even if they do produce about 1000 litres of snot between them per day,) seeing them grow and develop as they have begun to grasp the basics of the English Language has cheered me (I even managed to slip in a few British versions of American English words when nobody was listening.) It has been hard saying good-bye to them and the many other friends I have made; Karen my best three year old kid was in tears and the others looked dejected, though I leave safe in the knowledge that with the right support, they can grow up to fulfil their potential, whether that involves English or not.

Despite everything that drives me crazy about this place, and that goes against every ounce of my being, there is an endearing beauty hidden deep beneath the madness. I have grown to love it. Will I come back? Certainly. Where else can I sing in public without looking like a fool, bash old bus drivers with mallets without being arrested, eat all kinds of weird and wonderful raw delicacies without dying a slow and painful death, have hundreds of people bowing at me without being a King, and visit solid gold temples without breaking into Fort Knox. Anyway, there is so much about here I have not yet discovered for this to be sayonara.

I am proud of what I have achieved here and am glad my clarity has returned, spurring me on as I am about to embark on the next exciting and (hopefully just as) rewarding chapter of my life when I return to sort it out this week. The ideas, passion, enthusiasm and spark that had deserted me at the end of last year is back in abundance, and, strangely enough all it took was a bunch of three year olds and some raw fish. Who could have guessed? In all honesty though, it was much more than that, much, much more indeed, and no words of mine can ever do this crazy little country justice. With that in mind I will close what will be my last update for the foreseeable future with the thought, that, despite my frustrations at times, my experience in Japan, definitely wasnt - lost in translation.

All That Glitters Isn't Gold

As the pace of industrial and economic growth heightens, the world is faced with the ever increasing problem of how to deal with the impact of our consumption based society on the environment. Several scientists have predicted doomsday scenarios of varying ferocity, whilst others predict nothing will happen and we are worrying ourselves for no reason; one thing is for sure, many of the worlds politicians and citizens are concerned, and the state of the environment is likely to dominate our thoughts with increasing frequency over the coming decades.

In 2000 the Kyoto Protocol was drafted and finally became law (except in the US, because Bushes like lots of Carbon Dioxide,) just a few days ago. The aim of the treaty is to lower Carbon Dioxide emissions that are presently heating up the planet. It is not surprising that Japan was chosen as the location to hold these discussions and broker the agreement. The Japanese are the world leader in waste management and resource conservation. Pollution here is low and despite rampant consumption, on a level that makes it clear to me why Japans economy so large, waste is also low. Everything is recycled and natural resources conserved militantly.

Last weekend I visited Kyoto. It may be on your television screens and in your newspapers for the reasons above; but at a deeper level Kyoto is the spiritual capital of Japan, steeped in history and tradition, with treasures every Gaijin should discover themselves. Valentines weekend brings a holiday here, so last Friday morning Claire and I packed up our stuff and headed excitedly for ancient Kyoto.

On arrival, our requisite visit to McDonalds* only added credence to the Japanese obsession with recycling. Separating your rubbish at the end of a meal is a complicated business here with bins for paper cartons, plastic containers, straws and drinks lids, and a separate container to pour unfinished drinks and ice into. Elsewhere it is even more complex with up to 13 different receptacles for rubbish in some areas of the city, depending on what you are throwing out. .

Next stop in Kyoto was Kinkaku-ji, or the golden temple. Yes, a temple made out of pure, solid gold, surrounded by beautiful trees and a stunning lake. After overcoming the temptation to try and put a bit of the front door in my pocket to fund the rest of our trip - it was agreed not too, but that it had still been a must see and definitely worth fighting our way across an insanely overcrowded and inefficient bus system to get there. Our next stop was Niji Castle, which I must say resembled a barn and had various empty rooms that had signs saying swords were once stored here and the emperor once ate here. They all looked the same to my untrained eye. The Japanese loved it, I hated it, and had to escape by any means necessary. We finally did, but the time we took at the castle, combined with the inefficient bus system, meant that unfortunately we did not get to see a tea ceremony with a Japanese Geisha; but, having said all that, the city was beautiful and both Claire and I had a lovely weekend.

Unbelievably, I only have two and a half weeks left here. Today, working in Japan I feel very much at home. The frustration is still there, though teaching is extremely rewarding and despite the differences, particularly in work culture, I have managed to carve a niche for myself. On Wednesday I was interviewed by the Japan Times, who I recanted my adventures to with great delight; they are running a feature on me next week as I am the first AIESEC Education Trainee in Japan. All very exciting - I have now been on Colombian radio, British TV and in a Japanese newspaper, not bad for someone who is not a mass murderer, or international terrorist.

Last week frustration reached boiling point. It is illegal for me to teach on my own here, as I do not have a Japanese teachers licence, so I need a qualified Japanese teacher to observe my classes. Normally they do just that, observe. On Monday and Tuesday I was running a class for 180 Japanese beauticians in the aptly named Glamour Beauty College located in a very exclusive area of Osaka. The building was stunning, 10 floors high in the middle of the city - worth and absolute fortune in property value alone. The students spoke little or no English so my job was to teach them how to take reservations from customers and explain the price for their services. The lesson was good, except for the Japanese teacher. This one was intent on being proactive.

Now, to be a good Japanese English teacher the first qualification required is to be able to speak English, fluently would be good - but not essential; to be able to construct the odd sentence, of minimal importance; to be able to count I would say is an absolute must. As I mentioned before, normally the Japanese teacher observes. Not this one. But, as she pointed out, she passed the Japanese teaching exam (at the fifth attempt I was later told,) and the exam never lies, or so they say. She was going to use her qualifications, despite the fact I know more Japanese than she knows English. It was when she read her personal introduction to the class that gigantic, nuclear armageddon type, piercing, ominous sounding alarm bells started ringing in my ears. She began

Let me introduce myself to me. Name is Yuka. I work in PR section. The word PR is coming from the Public Relations. Teaching you I am pleased to.

Finally, after the seventeenth or eighteenth look of utter contempt I had aimed in her direction, I managed to shut her up for long enough to start the lesson, and almost completely, when she realised that I was getting frustrated with her translation of every word I uttered (completely against the point of the lesson, the students are supposed to work it out for themselves.) Almost, that is. It happened when I was teaching the ordinal numbers; first, second, third and so on - that was when the cardinal sin was committed. She started, (21st) twenty oneth, which I could bear a slip of the tongue I could correct later, (22nd) twenty secondth was tolerable for the same reason, (23rd) twenty thirth was like someone running their nails down a blackboard, but it would be rude to cut in and correct her now I thought, twenty fourth was light relief, but (25th) twenty fifst was the final straw. I had to stop her - yes, I know, it is a massive no, no in Japan, but I did not care I am not going to stand-by while some poor Gaijin gets their hair appointment booked for February, twenty fifst because of one of my lessons. She was not amused, but fortunately my boss, who understood my frustration, found it absolutely hilarious.

As you can see teaching here has its ups and downs, and I must admit whilst there are certain things I will miss, there are others I would hope never to have to experience again. Japan will always struggle with competency in English whilst teachers like Yuka persist and sadly there are many like her all over the country, many foreigners I hasten to add are not much better. They might have a Golden Temple, and glitzy private schools, but as I compare it to education back home I guess that I have come to realise a lot.

All that glitters isnt gold.

Deano

*For those of you who are interested in how my McDonalds consumption is going, I have now had McDonalds in Kobe, Yokohama, Tokyo, Osaka and Kyoto, building on various locations in about 20 countries I had previously visited. Who says globalisation is bad.

Raw Horse Meat

January is flying by, and as I prepare to enter my fourth month here, the days are getting brighter, bringing with them a cold northerly wind that chills to the bone, even through the thickest of coats. Japan, like most countries in the grip of winter, is at its least attractive right now, however the ever-lengthening days give hope that the optimism of spring may not be that far off. Anyhow I suppose I shouldn't complain, I'm warmer now after finally being forced into working out how to use the heating system in my apartment, having woken up one morning in horror, to find that a glass of coke beside my bed was starting to freeze! That said, I'm much better off than my students, who still have to wear shorts and a t-shirt all day long. It builds strength, or so they say.

A lot has happened since I last wrote to you all. Christmas and New Year for a start, and although overshadowed by the terrible events in south-central Asia, things carried on as normal here, with few people commenting on, or even seeming interested in the tragedy that had unfolded just a few thousand miles away; one that you could reasonably expect should resonate in the hearts and minds of all Japanese, given the number of earthquakes experienced here with alarming regularity. I guess they have become emotionally detached. It is very interesting however, to observe the impact that the media has on how people view the world here, especially when I compare it to the way our media and also our viewpoints, tend to be much more internationally focused. I guess it is one of the many differences between the world I am from and the one that I am living in right now.

Our quest for Christmas lunch was a little more difficult than I had hoped. Indeed there were so many advertisements for Christmas lunch, I was quietly confident of finding a delicious roast dinner. It depends apparently, on how you define Christmas lunch though, in Japan it seems the meaning is literal, i.e. it is what you have for lunch on December 25th. So, you could have "Christmas Salmon", "Christmas Prawns", "Christmas Sushi" and even"Christmas Cat" should you be so inclined. I was tempted to file a lawsuit on the grounds that all of these delicacies clearly breached any form of a global trade descriptions act. How could these dishes be called Christmas lunch? It was merely leading me on, lulling me into the false sense of security that a nice restaurant in Tokyo had been slowly roasting turkey, potatoes and vegetables for Claire and I to feast on come lunch time. Alas, outraged, hungry and disappointed, it was not to be, (and anyway I was worried that if I protested too hard, they might be serving "Christmas Dean"next year, so decided against said lawsuit.) We went to TGI Friday's instead and actually, the food was delicious. I had chicken cooked in a Jack Daniel's sauce served with chips, and for the first time in two months I was eating with a knife and fork again. Heaven! Christmas Day was strange though. The high streets and shopping malls were buzzing, people were everywhere and almost every shopkeeper was dressed as Santa Claus. The subway was bustling and believe it or not we couldn't find a seat on the train on the way home. Very different from turkey and all the trimmings followed by Christmas pudding, too many beers and an afternoon in front of the telly watching The Queen's Speech unable to move due to the enormous weight in your stomach. None the less it was an interesting change, and a lovely day in the end.

The New Year period in Japan was the complete reverse. A very quiet affair in which Japanese women are expected to cook enough food for the three day holiday period, prior to it beginning, and then serve it over the duration. Every Japanese woman I know was complaining that they had too much work to do and loathed the holidays as a result. I guess I felt kind of sorry for them. Determined to "fit in" however, and live the culture as much as possible, I suggested to Claire that she should get started. I got a toasted sandwich, a look of contempt, told we were going out for dinner and that I was paying. Well, it was probably for the best that I agreed because Claire had been brandishing a rather large kitchen knife at the time. All in all the holidays were great. We visited Shibuya again, the trendy area of Tokyo I wrote about in my first update. The hustle and bustle remained, and for those of you have seen "Lost in Translation" I got a photo of the giant neon giraffe that can be seen walking across the full height of a skyscraper outside the station. Additionally we visited the Toshiba museum, which was much more interesting than it sounds. On show was a 3-D cinema, a driving simulator, a machine that could send 10,000 volts of electricity through you without causing a quick, painful death and an exhibit on the next generation of trains they are building in Japan. This was actually fascinating and they did a demonstration of how they will use magnets to levitate a train about 30 cm above the ground and send it flashing across the country at over 500 miles per hour. Imagine, London to Aberdeen in 1 hour! The benefits of the system are that the only friction is air resistance and it uses liquid nitrogen as a power source, so is cheap and totally environmentally friendly. Furthermore, it is a bit of a dream of the Japanese to build a tunnel under the Pacific Ocean to run this train on. The idea is, if they created a vacuum inside the tunnel, one of these trains could travel so fast that a trip from Japan to the USA would take around 3 hours. The only problem with it is they can't work out how to get the train to stop at the other end, without crashing. Like most people, I would say that is a pretty major problem and probably should have suggested they contact South West Trains in England for advice on how they get their trains to stop; I guess the only difficulty would be getting it to start again. Fascinating anyhow, to see what they are trying to use this innovative new technology for.

There were many other adventures over the Christmas period, a trip to a sashimi (raw fish, on it's own with no rice or seaweed) restaurant and also some great sushi. The sashimi adventure was the best however. Basically we ordered this big fish and they set it out on the table totally raw. Then the waiter got a blowtorch and ran it over the top of the fish, uttering some scary Japanese words and making the outside crispy. Finally as soon as the "blowtorching" stopped, than fully having not been set on fire, we proceeded by squirting lemon over the sashimi and then eating. It was delicious, once I got over the fact that I was actually eating a raw fish. So as January ends, things are going well. I am adapting to the variety of weird and wonderful food on offer and McDonald's visits are now down to just two per week. I have mastered hiragana, one of the three Japanese alphabets,so can read, write and speak a little; I have successfully berated my mobile phone company to negotiate a 50% discount when they charged me an obscene amount last month, and my kids are getting better at English everyday. I have seven weeks left teaching in Japan, and I'm going to make the most of it, my adult class are going out drinking with me next week, and quite a few of them are interesting characters so I am sure I will have plenty more stories for you come my next installment and maybe, you never know, I may even have completed my New Year's Resolution by then - by trying something I would never have considered eating a few months ago, the Japanese delicacy of raw horse meat. We'll see.

Do They Know It's Christmas?

I have spent the last few months constantly faced with the question "Why?" Why do they eat raw fish? Why can't I blow my nose in public? Why does every event involve at least 1 hour of hanging around doing nothing beforehand? Why is age valued above ability? Why? Why? Why? I seem to be on a never ending quest for understanding, trying to rationalise this very foreign culture and these are some of the things that have gone through my mind as I have struggled to come to terms with life in planet Japan. In many ways it is so far removed from everything I have ever known, yet it has the look and feel of any advanced civilised society. It conjures up a very strange feeling within me.

A few weeks ago it was the Japanese who got to ask "Why?" and it was followed by the words "is he singing?" The Christmas party season kicked off in style and together with some of the AIESECers and the businesses they work with here, we headed for a meal and then to a very exclusive and private Karaoke Bar in central Osaka. The food was odd. Konyaku, a jelly type, fish smelling substance (that apparently is very healthy, like most disgusting things here,) was first on the menu. Two words were uttered as I finished the first bite "never" and "again!" Next was some cold rice and some raw fish eggs, which weren't as bad as they looked, but I was fading fast. The old woman behind the counter serving us started giving me disappointed looks as I stopped eating, so I decided to go on a charm offensive so not to look ungrateful. It was fun trying to talk to her in a mix of English and Japanese and many of the people there were trying to teach me new words. The old woman (clearly in her sixties) asked me how old I thought she was so I said "seventeen" (jeu nana). Her husband, who also worked there, then asked the same question of himself and I said "seventy" (nana jeu). There was much laughter and I earnt myself plenty of free beers and a friend for life in his wife. There was loads of beer on the go by this stage so I decided I could cut my losses and drink instead of eat, which I think was a good move. Unbelievably the businessmen paid for everything and gave us a Christmas present each, which was extremely generous as there were 30 of us there! They also paid for the Karaoke bar, which was fantastic and though I admit that I still can't sing, when I am drunk I tend to think I can. I guess I got polite applause and plenty of laughter after my fifth song - it was a great night though!

Lately work has been getting better, I am getting to know the kids a bit more and also teaching many classes now which is fun. Two of my three year old kids (Karen and Kota) are fantastic, they have mastered greetings, clothes, fruit and vegetables, the weather, colours and Christmas vocabulary so I am very pleased. One of them, Karen can even sing Christmas songs on her own which is amazing given how young she is!

Christmas is an "interesting" event here, and it explains a lot about Japanese culture. It is best summed up as being "all surface and no feeling". The Japanese decorate everywhere on December 1st, and the video game music that booms out of shops for the other eleven months of the year is replaced by Christmas Carols. Unfortunately that is as deep as it goes. For the last week I have attended a Kindergarten Christmas Party everyday, watching kids get excited about Santa Claus, and getting furious when I try and steal their presents. They do all of the superficial things so well. But there is no love for it, obviously for religious reasons the majority Buddhist nation does not celebrate it, however the friendship, the feeling of family and sharing in fun, that so characterise our Christmas, is also missing. It leaves quite an empty feeling and so despite the decorations being very much in my eye line as I walk through the streets, the warm glow and sense of anticipation that surrounds Christmas at home is noticeably absent.

Today was a tough day. It is a national holiday here for the Emperor's Birthday, and amazingly it is back to work for everyone tomorrow and for many people also on Christmas Day itself. I am off for Christmas and desperately excited about heading to Yokohama to spend it with Claire (and to search the city for a turkey dinner on Saturday!) Today, however, I did some volunteer work, which is relatively uncommon in Japan. We held a Christmas party for some mentally and physically handicapped children. I dressed as Santa and we desperately tried to make the experience fun for the kids and their parents. The idealist in me believes that everyone is born with the same, with the same opportunity. So to see kids in wheel chairs, or unable to grasp what was going on around them was a harrowing and also humbling experience. I guess I was not prepared for it and I only hope that our party made them happy, if just for a little while.

So, I enter my third month in Japan, bruised from a tough introduction to life here but starting to feel a little more upbeat. I'm still asking "Why?" all the time, though I guess today I learnt the hard way, that there is not always an easy answer to that. Tomorrow I take the Shinkansen to Yokohama to leave that part of my life behind for a while, to spend Christmas with Claire. I am left wondering though, what the kids I met today will be doing on Saturday and I suppose the unanswerable question "Why?" is replaced with a more poignant "Do they know it's Christmas?" I hope so, and I hope you do to.

May it be peaceful, safe, happy, drunken and whatever you want it to be.

Rice

Planet Japan, is a place where little goes to waste. Their attitude to recycling, resource conservation and the environment in which they live, is admirable, although it borders on obsessive. Maybe it has something to do with the savage hand mother nature regularly deals them, earthquakes and typhoons are common place here and 10% of the world's active volcanoes reside on Japan's four beautiful islands. They stand on the brink of daily natural disaster so I guess they don't want to tempt fate, or perhaps it is because they like to save money - I'm still deciding. I must admit there seems to be a significant amount of overkill on the rice front here, from serving it with every meal, to using it to make sake (alcohol), to pounding it to oblivion in a big pot in the middle of our kindergarten playground to make mochi (rice cakes.) I find myself asking if there is anything it can't be used for, because I am sure there are several more I have yet to discover. I think they might run their cars on it. None of it, for sure, ever goes to waste.

Outside of lessons there is an enormous selection of cultural activities for my students. This week was rice crushing, last week was soup making, two weeks from now will be the Christmas play. For anyone who has read my previous updates you will not be surprised to know that at least 200 staff and parents are required to make any event a success, and today, making mochi was no exception. By 9am the kindergarten playground was filled with official photographers, hordes of teachers, real parents who had managed to secure some time off work by agreeing to stay on for five years after retirement, and yes, even the kindergarten bus drivers came along when they were taking a break from smoking. Mochi making is serious business here and to my surprise we were graced by the presence of two professional mochi makers who pound rice to oblivion for a living. So what is mochi? Well, I can't say that it tastes very good, or that it has a nice texture and in all honestly I think it should be used as some type of glue substitute rather than for eating - but I can't deny it is fun, if not tiring to make.

The first step involved steaming about 100 kilos of rice on various outdoor fires (fires and so many young children seem wrong to me) that were erected for the occasion, the second step, once the rice was ready, was to take it to a bashing area - we had 10 set up around the school. Basically, these are little basins raised about 3 feet off the ground. From here you need 102 people, one with a giant mallet and one crazy old man to roll the rice with their hands, and a hundred to watch. The bus drivers were useful for both rolling and watching. So, that said, the mochi making process goes like this, roll, whack, roll, whack, roll, whack and so on.

After a good 20 minutes of rice pounding you are left with a big glob of goo that is ready to be served as mochi. The final touches are to break it into small globules and roll in baking soda. Sounds delicious, doesn't it? Of course as a token gajin (foreigner) I was required to give the rice a serious pounding, and as much as I pleaded incompetence, there was no escape. Now before I go on with the story, there are two things to consider. Number one, my hand/eye co-ordination is, well, minimal at best. Number two, the mallet was big and heavy. Number three, instructions from the old man in charge of rice rolling could not be understood by me, as I don't speak Japanese. Similarly, those reading my previous updates will know that old people are important here and that as I was a guest, I was also important. So they decided to give me the oldest, most respected photographer/bus-driver, who had worked at Haraumadai Kindergarten since it opened, to roll my mochi. Finally, of course, you need to picture the scene, hundreds of kids and children watching and cheering Dean sensei on. And so I started pounding rice with a giant mallet.

Roll, Whack, Roll, Whack, Roll, Whack, Roll, Whack, Roll, Whack, Roll, Whack, Roll, random Japanese word, slight hesitation by Dean, chink, whack, "argh", "argh", "argh", "argh", old man crying (and I think swearing), astonished looks on teachers faces, parents covering children's eyes, argh, evil laughter from older kids, clunk of mallet falling on ground.

You see, my mistake was trying to listen to what he was saying, and so I missed the centre of the basin, clipped the edge, which led to a ricochet onto the fingers of aforementioned old
respected man. Four words entered my mind, "ground," "swallow," "me," and "up." This was interspersed with the pangs of guilt and hundreds of laughing kids, but, I have to say, I do think anyone who puts their hand near a mallet I am trying to swing in rhythm is asking for trouble. And so that was the story of how the most respected photographer in Harumadai Kindergarten had their glittering career ended by a flying mallet. They are going to remember me here, but at least he can drive his bus one-handed. I think.

Things are getting better and my adaption to Japanese culture is becoming less forced and more like second nature. Several things still frustrate me but I am doing my best to block those out and accept the country and society for what it is. I hope I am winning. An integral part of that adaptation process was my welcome party at the weekend. Even though I arrived one month ago, busy schedules meant this was the only time available for my official arrival meal and drinks. It was held at an all you can eat meat barbecue with all the beer you could drink included. I was delighted. The beer here is good and the meat delicious, when you don't know what it is, and presented with the opportunity to eat as much as I liked, I had to try everything. It felt weird biting into a piece of tongue that had been cremated on our table-top barbecue, but I must admit it is the closest taste I have found to bacon here, so I may try it again. For those of you who think it seems wrong to eat tongue, my second dish, intestines, must sound even worse. Nothing of interest to report with them though, a bit chewy with little or no taste. No need for a second helping.

The most interesting part of the evening however, were the customs, rituals and formality that surrounded it, oh, and the fact we had to sit on the floor. As I was guest of honour (again) this meant everyone had to keep cooking my food and topping up my glass. I was hardly going to complain. The only requirement of me was to lift my glass off the table as they poured my drinks, not to do so would be disrespectful to whoever was pouring, and more often than not, it was my boss. Unsurprisingly I obliged. At the end of the night, when we were all a bit worse for wear, my boss gave me a present. Or, well, he sang a traditional Japanese welcome song for me. It was, erm, interesting, although as soon as had he finished I noticed everyone casting a curious look towards me. For about 30 seconds I wondered why, then a cold chill ran up my spine. I knew. I was going to have to sing something back. So, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, with no backing music I belted out a chorus of Wonderwall by Oasis (the first song that came into my head) much to the amusement of everyone else. If I hadn't been so drunk I would have been beamed with embarrassment. I think I did anyhow. As the evening wore on the rest of the teachers started to sing and we considered going to a karaoke bar, but thankfully, sense prevailed and I had a party back at my apartment instead. So, that was it, after a tough week, things were looking up, the drinks were unlimited, the food was good, but, best of all, they didn't serve rice.

Do you like snake?

Japan has extremely high levels of employment. Everybody here as a job, a role, a purpose in society - more than anything, because it would be dishonourable not to have one. There are two consequences of this. Number one, there are about 8 people required to do 1 persons work (leading to the fact that,) number two, everything is expensive (for example you could pay up to £20 for a melon). The impact on their society is interesting. Firstly, you have to understand that people's work is the most important thing here and most employees devote their lives to their (one) company. Secondly, work starts early (a commuter train would be packed at 7am on a Sunday morning) and ends late and even the school kids are conditioned to this from an early age (most have after school clubs from three years old that finish at six). Thirdly, their obsession with processes (and tradition) rather than the outcome they desire clouds any decision to actually make things more efficient. It has always been that 6 people are required to sell you a Big Mac, and it always will be. Being at work is often a substitution for actually doing anything, provided you look busy and are suffering from severe stress. It is beginning to drive me insane.

Take for example my school. In the English department we have four teachers, a head teacher and a supervisor. We also have a Japanese teacher present with us in each lesson. As a result there are often 4-5 teachers to a class of 20, many of whom just stand about and do nothing. Quite often I am one of them, because there is nothing to do and it is begining to get me down. The Japanese teachers work from 7am to 8pm everyday, yet they stop teaching at 2pm and their admin work is light due to the fact there are so many administrators already there. Yet they walk about, or sit at their desks, look busy and wait for their boss to leave so that they can. This is repeated all over Japan. I find it infuriating as it is against my nature. Japan is a country that can move a train 500km in 2hours and arrive on time, all the time. Yet last Sunday it took 6 teachers to supervise 20 pupils waiting in class to take part in a school play. Can anyone tell me why? And yet, everyone is so stressed, in case the slightest mistake is made - if I was them I would be more worried that some western consultant comes to their school and axes 80% of the irrelevant jobs they do. At least then I suppose mummy and daddy would see the kids, something that rarely happens here and the affect that their replacement fathers (Nintendo, Sony and Sega) is having on Japanese culture will probably provoke a revolution in the next twenty years. I for one would welcome it. The new generation of Japanese youngsters, despite their institutionalised education, are resistant to it. As I sit on my train home after another ineffective day at school I sometimes wonder if I am not the only one there who is thinking that there is bound to be more to life than this.

I crave intelligent conversation. The vocabularly of my students (the most of whom are under 6) is limited. For example, consider an average lunchtime conversation with some of them.

Dean: "What is your name?"
Student: "I am fine thank-you"
Dean (slightly more slowly) "What ... is ... your ... name?"
Student: "I like rice"
Dean: "I like rice too, what colour is rice?"
Student: "I am fine thankyou"
Dean: "How old are you?"
Student: "I like rice"

And so it goes on. Last week I did a UK presentation (in the most basic terms I could think of) to some teenagers... I asked them to ask me some questions in English at the end. They consisted of:

Do you like rice?

Do you like snake?

Can you swim?

What is your favourite colour?

I despair, there are only so many times I can point at animals and say "What is that?". Outside of work it is not much better as the Japanese people I know are just as inept with English, and afraid to try as they fear some severe punishment if they make a mistake. I suppose I should help them, but it is tough. Don't get me wrong this is an amazing experience, and I am still, despite it all, enjoying myself - but, it is difficult to accept and very different from what I expected. I guess i underestimated the value of the British education system - at university here you can get credits for dancing classes and as a result, even those fluent in English, struggle with intelligent conversation and the amount of sarcasm I use. Yes, the most simplest of things will make them laugh, but the more complex I'm afraid, just washes straight over all of them. Maybe I'm just not that funny.

So tomorrow after a brief holiday, it is back to school. I wonder what they will ask me, I guess it can't be more random than "Do you like snake?" Maybe I should teach them it is "a snake".

Umbrellas

Cynics among us, (or realists, I'm not sure!) believe that both Gulf Wars were fought over oil not freedom. Many development economists believe the next world war, if there is one, will not be fought over oil, religion or political ideology. But over water. It is the world's most precious resource. Which is remarkable considering the amount of it that there is about. Japan, positioned in Monsoon Asia, recevies twice the world's average rainfall, which believe me is a lot. And, as I stare out of my bedroom window, looking out on night time in Osaka, listening to the patter of the torrential rain against the ground, trying to dry off from the soaking I received on the way home, I wonder. I wonder who on earth would fight a war over this, there is more than enough to go around - yet, I suppose, I've never lived in sub-sahara Africa, or in India or in the Middle East.
Everyone in Japan seems to own an umbrella, I must get one. Global warming or not, when it rains here it pours and it is doing so with an alarming frequency. The t-shirt wearing cyclists that freely pedalled their way over the footpaths of Osaka (nearly wiping out half the predestrians in the process); that did so, so skillfully, one handed, whilst smoking a cigarette, have gone. I guess they where just practising for winter, because now they wear thick coats, do not smoke but instead carry their umbrella in one hand whilst steering with the other. Apart from nearly losing an eye to one yesterday I have escaped this menace so far. The environment and resource conservation is important here. Everywhere is geared towards recycling, towards saving electricity and water. The air has changed in the last week though. It is getting cold, winter is coming, and I feel as if I was a little hasty in my first update when I began to gloat about the lovely weather. Saying that, the kids still come to school in shorts, a t-shirt and a cap; whilst I prefer a thick coat and a very heavy jumper. It will be like that all winter, even in snow. It's weird.
I'm getting better at teaching. It is tough though, and I must admit I am struggling with certain elements of the Japanese work culture. The work hours for one. Yes they work long hours, (regular Japanese teachers start at 7am and work until 8pm. I on the otherhand, do 9 hours per day) but that is not the problem. For a country that can get an intercity train to travel 500km in 2 hours to a levely of punctuality within 30 seconds, they are suprsingly inefficient. At some stage I think I will rebel, the rule for instance that the youngest person cannot leave work until someone older has done so, (is outdated and) may be fine for the Japanese, but not me. Part of me thinks the nation is slowly killing itself, and it is not the addiction to cigarrettes, or pollution from exhaust fumes, but it is the fact that most of them do 60 hour plus weeks at work, and barely see their kids, or daylight. Yet they don't need to. Yesterday I was sitting doing nothing, waiting around to start teaching (I had to come early because everyone else does) they told me to hold some cards when I asked for something to do. I felt a like a valuable member of the team, like about as valuable as a shelf - a shelf that could have done with an extra hour in bed, given that he had to wake at 6am. Despite this I am still enjoying it. The sun was never going to shine everyday, and I knew it would be different. Upon talking with people though, it seems though, that changes are afoot.
The English teachers I work with have been in Japan for ten years or more and they see a definite shift. The emergence of a new, westernised generation. The Play Station, Nintendo, Pokemon loving kids, who fight back, who answer back to their elders (when they come back from work on Sunday) - who disagree, who rebel, who refuse to conform to the stringent rules Japan tries to impose on them. Ten years ago, they say, that was unheard of. As I entered the public elementary school I teach at on Wednesdays, I saw it with my own eyes. Discipline in Japan is strange. A school teacher in a state school has three punishments at their disposal. Three solitary words. "Stop doing that!" That's it, no detention, no lines, no expulsion, no sending them out of the room - nothing else, nada. And some of those kids, let's put it diplomatically, are thugs (and they are only 6). Apparently those solitary three words were enough ten years ago, but cable TV, Coca Cola and video games have taken their toll spawned a mutant generation that the words just bounce off. Where it will take Japan too no one knows, but an American I spoke to reckons that they are going through many of the changes the US did in the 50's and 60's. I for one hope so, but I hope it ends differently than it has in the US. There is a certain amount of arrogance about older people here, that they think they are better, that they always know more, that I can't stand. In the words of George Orwell "All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others." Or so they would like to think.
The remainder of my week is spent at a plush, private, kindergarten. Here discipline is mandatory and I begin to understand why Japan is the way it is today. These kids are so institutionalised (from three years old), I fear that wearing too bright a shirt may blind one of them. The pressure on young people here (as well as their teachers) is immense, and it becomes clearer as to why it is home to one of the highest suicide rates in the world. In fact it is said that someone jumping in front of a Shinkansen is one of the few things that ever delays it. It happens more than you'd think. On Sunday we have a school play. If any class fails to perform to expectations their teacher will be sacked. I find it shocking, though it is not a suprise. This kindergarten is for the children of the elite, where daddy pays for institutionalisation, he demands success, and unlike in a state school, he demands discipline. Here, anything goes and one dirty look puts the fearful kids back into line, literally, because they must sit in a perfectly straight line whilst in class. No wonder the older ones are afraid to speak English, they are afraid of making a mistake, and Japan is not a forgiving society.
We do our best to make English fun, and to be fair the organisation I work for seems to be succeeding. Nevertheless it's world's apart from home. For a start they all carry umbrellas. Even the men.

Is different bad?

Education is of fundamental importance in the development of any civilised society. I feel privileged to have had a decent education, a good grounding in English and Maths, an understanding of science and a wealth of international opportunities allowing me to explore different ways of doing things. Unfortunately in Britain we are often taught that different is bad. I am struggling against many of those feelings right now, but I know my liberal side will win in the end. At least I hope...
I arrived in Osaka last Monday night to be greeted by a small group of AIESECers and my supervisor Kiyoko. This was a sedate affair and the mountain of luggage I referred to in my last update was weighing heavily on my back so two things overjoyed me on arrival. Number one, they understood my accent much better that the Colombians did, don't know whether it has changed significantly since then or not - I will let the rest of you judge. Number two (and all I really cared about at the time,) there were people to carry my luggage. From Shin-Osaka station it was off to the rather neat little appartment that is to be my home for the forseeable future. Osaka is large (millions of people not sure of the exact figure) and I live on the suburbs. The advantages are that it is quiet, the transport is good and the people receptive. The disadvantages are that it is a long way from anywhere, the receptive people speak little or no Engrish and there is nothing much nearby except slot machines, some rather dodgy looking restaurants and a castle. On arrival in my appartment at Izumi Fuchu we visited one of those dodgy restaurants for dinner, it was delicous and I was treated as a celebrity given the fact that I am the token foreigner in the area. My appartment is ok, though there is only one ring on the cooker and a rather uncomfortable looking bed. Appearances though can be deceptive, and what looked uncomfortable was just what I needed. That night I slept for about 15 hours.
My tasks for the first few days were light, I am still waiting for my mobile phone and bank account so to start the process of getting them I was required to register as an alien. Sasai, a local AIESECer took me and did all the translation, I smiled, nodded and swore that the spaceship that dropped me off would not abduct anyone else, at least to the best of my knowledge. Within 20 minutes I was an official alien of Japan. Then it was time to explore. To explore my neighbourhood took all of 5 minutes, I found the local convenience store and stocked up on supplies and yes, en route I did find a McDonalds. I was content.
I did some teaching on Wednesday, first with 2-6 year olds, second with some older girls (around 20 years old) who I explained all about the UK political system too. This was fun and they seemed interested though at times I felt they may have been nodding and smiling rather like I was in the alien registration place. Their word for the day was xenophobic which I thought was a cool word to teach them. Lessons lasted 30 minutes and I worked form 3pm to 9pm without a break. I also received my schedule for the next two months. Basically I live above BIC school which is the HQ of the company I work for and I teach young kids, uni students and elementary school teachers there on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I have both mornings free but work in the evenings which is good as it allows me time to figure out where I am and how I am going to ever decipher this language. I plan to sign up for classes next week.
Thursday and Friday were... interesting. They involved early starts and I wake at 6am to travel 1 hour 15 minutes (with three train changes) to a different Kindergarten where I teach solidly from 9am (after a meeting at 8am) until 6:30pm. It is both tiring and weird and I think my AIESEC conference time has helped me with this. Basically there are 10 classes of 2-6 year olds and we run 20 minutes of their lessons each day. Each of their English lessons starts with a song with actions.
Welcome Boys,
Welcome Girls,
Clap your hands,
Stamp your feet,
Flap your arms,
Turn Around,
Jump up and down.
(x2)
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit Down!
(There are more songs but I can't bear at this time to commit them to writing, maybe the next time I'll tell you about the goodbye song.)
It is weird being called Dean Sensei (teacher) and the kids won't let me leave their classes, they grab onto my legs and I have to hi-five each of them before I go. It was even weirder in the 8am meeting when all the teachers have to chant the school aims in the staff room before lessons (they do this everyday and a different teacher leads it.) In fact it is freaky. I had to do a little introductory speech to about 40 Japanese staff which Kiyoko translated into Japanese for me. I must admit, I am finding all of the happy clappy stuff tough, I almost feel I am a character in Sesame Street and it is most likely to be Groucho at the minute. I know I will adjust but I think I have joined a Butlins Holiday Camp for three year olds and it scares me. I suppose I will live and get used to it. I have no choice. From December I will do this in another Kindergarten as well on Mondays (which is further away so I will wake up at 5:30am). From 2pm to 6pm we do afterschool lessons for kids whose parents work (which is most of them as this is an exclusive kindergarten for the wealthy Osaka businessmen/women families.) These lessons last 30 minutes each and today I taught body parts to 4 year olds and the difference between "this" and "that" to 6 year olds. Round that off with a little crayon colouring in for the rest and a school play rehearsal and that was it. Busy day. The kids eat lunch in their classroom and we sit with them and chat. They are afraid to speak English at first but I am determined to help them improve, it is so rewarding to hear them speak a word that I know I taught them.
So why I am I still doing this? Why did I not run out midway through the first chant of the school aims? Well, BIC is an interesting organisation that was founded by two Japanese Airlines flight stewardesses over 20 years ago (Kiyoko Sensei and Chiaki Sensei) that has truly inspired me. They were grateful that they had seen the world through their airline careers and learnt English along the way and wanted the Japanese people of tomorrow to have the same experiences. They rued the fact that even though many Japanese kids are taught English from Junior High School and upwards, they never speak it because of adolescene and the pressure that Japanese society imposes on them never to make mistakes. They decided to do something about it. "We have to teach them earlier in their lives, if they are to really learn and the goverenment does nothing about it" Kiyoko told me. So, with some personal financial backing (and some external support) BIC was born and they contract teachers out to three fantastic kindergartens (with class sizes of under 25.) This is real social entrepreneurship and I have great admiration for them both even though I have just met them, and despite the silly songs and crazy leg hugging kids I feel it is a worthwhile cause and I am glad their organisation is growing.
I'm here to help Japanese children learn English and I'm going to do it, even though it might be tough and it might be embarrassing (I accidentally let slip I know a dance to Cotton Eyed Joe.) Oh God, they want me to teach it to them! It will be embarrassing. What have I let myself in for? I'm not sure, but by Friday night when I finish up at the local Chamber of Commerce to teach local business men the basics of English in the evening I will know I have earnt my money.
Is different bad? I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know when (if) I work it out.
Deano