Saigo

So, today was my last day of classes. We played games. Everyone had fun. It was great. One of the games we played was “ask Seth a question, and if he laughs you get bonus points”. The first graders did a great job. They came up with better, funnier, more original questions than the third graders. They’re a really smart class. It’s days like this that I regret my decision to leave. But, unfortunately, the vast majority of days are much much slower – skull-crushingly boring, in fact.

I can’t believe the year went by so quickly. It almost feels like I just got here. Still, I’m bored at work and there’s nothing to do in my town, so I’d just as soon go. I can’t help but think that if I had been placed in a more vibrant area, I’d be staying longer. Of course, I could have been placed even further into the middle of nowhere…

Japan is no longer an adventure. It’s become normal. It’s time to move on. I know I’ll miss it though (especially the service – I don’t know if I’ll be able adjust back to customer service that doesn’t grovel at you – just the other day, I saw a gas station attendant block traffic to let a customer safely exit, and then he bowed deeply to the car as it drove away – that’s service).

Anyway. I have to be out of my apartment in about a week. This’ll probably be my last post (unless something interesting comes up).

Thank you (both of you) for reading.

Arigato gozaimashita!

Paying Respects

Our school's science teacher’s father-in-law just died. The funeral is today, but last night the staff all went up to the Kofu funeral home to pay our respects at the wake-like-event.

So we get there (everyone’s in black – not surprisingly), walk in, and get in a long line. The line leads around the corner to a room where I can hear Buddhist chanting. There are a ton of people there – both waiting in line, and on their way out. I mean, I barely talk to this teacher, and I’ve never met his wife. I bet a lot of the people there were as loosely affiliated as I was. When you die in Japan, all the people-you-know’s friends and co-workers will come and pay their respects.

So, I’m standing in line, trying to figure out what’s going on. There is a group of men sitting behind tables near the wall. The men are friends and neighbors. People are giving them money. The money is in a special envelope and is either $30 or $50. This is a custom. The line leads to a room with an alter. Immediately in front of the alter is a priest, who is chanting. Behind him, to the left and right, are family members sitting in two groups, facing each other. In the center of the room, there is a table with four sets of incense jars(?). This is where the line leads. The people come up, four at a time, bow to both sets of family members (on the left and right), put their hands together for a second to pray, then take a pinch of incense pebbles(?) in their fingers, hold it up to their face (eyes closed, faced bowed), and put it in the adjacent jar(?). Then they “pray” again for a second, bow again to both sets of family members, and exit to the right. It takes about 15 seconds.

As I exited right, there were more men to bow to. Among them was the teacher. He thanked me. But, standing next to him was our principal. Was he well acquainted with the deceased? No, he was not. Then why is he in a place of honor? Because he is Kirikane Sensei’s boss. In Japan, if a family member dies, your boss will have a respected position at their funeral.

Leaving the room, there is a funeral home employee that hands out moist hand towels and thanks you for your hard work. Behind her is a group of woman (friends and neighbors) who hand out gifts. The gift is a set of special money envelopes – for funerals.

Farewell

Friday night was my farewell party. Of course, I didn’t hear about it until the day before:

“How are you going to the party tomorrow?”
“What party?”
“You’re farewell party.”
“Um… I kind of made plans…”
“But you have to go to your farewell party.”
“Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“I don’t know. We’ve been talking about it for weeks. No one told you?”

So, I had to postpone my plans… I’m not sure why they scheduled the goodbye party so early. I’m not even leaving for another month…

The party was fun. I sat next to the principal, per his request, so I wasn’t near Kae (who usually translates the goings on that I don’t understand). But the speeches were largely about me, and while I understood a lot of it, there’s also a lot that I missed. I wonder what they said… Then, I got up and gave a little speech. By the time the speeches were done, the hot food was cold, and the cold food was warm. Oh, Japan…

During the enkai, the principal asked me if I knew Simon and Garfunkel. Apparently he really likes them. I told him yes. He asked me if I knew Bob Dylan. I said yes. He asked me if I knew John Denver. I said yes (one song counts, right?). He was so impressed that I knew these old bands. “Subarashi!” he said. “Ii na!” he added. “We will sing at karaoke.” Uh oh…

After dinner, the partiers decided to go to karaoke. Most of the teachers went home (including Kae – she got the hell out of there). I really don’t like karaoke, but, because it was my party, I had to go. Plus, the principal really wanted to sing with me. So, we went. We sang some Beatles and (odd versions of) Simon and Garfunkel songs. It ended up being fun. The principal was really drunk. He was practically falling asleep while the other teachers were singing Japanese songs. He really can’t hold his liquor.

Rock, Paper, Scissors

When it comes to kids in Japan, every decision that needs to be made is done by playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. It’s called “janken”. What side of the room do we start at when picking new seats? Janken. Who wants this extra dessert? Janken. What are the teams? Janekn. Who’s going to volunteer? Janken. What’s the turn order for this game? Janken. They have it down to a science. And they do it so quickly, sometimes I’m not even sure what’s happened. Did you know you can play Rock, Paper, Scissors with upwards of ten people? You can.

So, for my first lesson with the little kids in elementary school, I teach them how to play “janken” in English. It’s absolutely the most useful thing they could know.

Speaking of the little kids, the second graders are completely out of their minds. There are ten kids in the class and at least six of them have some sort of advanced case of ADD. They just can’t focus or sit still – for a second. You can’t take your eyes off them. When you turn around for two seconds to draw a little picture on the board, all of a sudden there’s a kid right behind you. When you warm up with twenty jumping jacks (to practice counting – and to tire them out), they can’t help but to bounce into each other – and you. When you play a game that involves moving about the room, you’ll inevitably find a couple kids hiding under the piano, or rubbing their heads against the earthquake helmets hanging on the wall.

The Phone

Talking on the phone in Japan is a procedure. There are no quick phone calls. First, you start out by saying “hello” and giving an elaborate introduction of yourself in the most formal language possible. Then you apologize for disturbing the other person (both people do this). Then, the conversation can go anywhere, but it always consists of a lot of agreement. A friend of mine counted 32 enthusiastic “hai!”s in a row when one of his teachers was on the phone. When the conversation is finished, both sides apologize to one another. Often, this is accompanied by bowing – to the phone – usually just the head and shoulders, but I’ve heard tales of deep, from the waist, full body groveling – to the phone.

Honesty

Kae gave back a test today, and, like all teachers do, she made some grading mistakes. Of course the kids who got cheated out of a few points came up and had their grade bumped, but the kids who benefited from mistakes came up as well. I was kind of shocked. And it wasn’t just one or two kids, it was several. They all came up to have their grades lowered. I thought the rule for beneficial teachers mistakes was “keep those points.” Not here…