Haru ni narimasu

Spring is coming. Flowers are blooming.


Japanese people are very proud of their four seasons. Some think that Japan is the only country that has four distinct seasons, and I sometimes get asked if there are seasons in America. They are very impressed when I tell them that South Jersey has the same climate as Japan.

Many people are enamored with the beauty of the seasons, especially the cherry blossoms in the spring and the falling leaves in autumn. But, I think the main reason that the seasons feature so prominently in Japanese culture is the change in temperature. In America, we completely control our indoor climate – buildings and houses stay virtually the same temperature year-round (68 in winter, 72 in summer). But, the Japanese allow the weather into their houses (and many other buildings). Most houses are not insulated. It gets cold inside in the winter and unbelievably hot in the summer. In the winter, families gather around kotatsus (little tables with heaters on the underside) and in the summer they open all the windows. The seasons really affect their state of mind.

I know that many people in America are also affected by the seasons. But, imagine that it was 40 degrees in your house in the winter. When spring came, yes the days would get longer and the flowers would bloom, but you’d be pretty thrilled that your house was getting warmer and you could come out from under your little heated table.

Side note: I was talking to the vice-principal about the cherry blossoms. Last week he told me that they wouldn’t be in bloom by the time I got to Kyoto. But, he was wrong. They’ve already started blooming. (Not such an expert now, are you?) Anyway, we started talking about some of the other flowering plants – like the hakumokuren tree with the white flowers that is directly outside the window. I commented that it was beautiful, but the flowers have already started to fall off. He compared it to a woman who is very very beautiful, but who has very dirty behavior.

But, he’ll be leaving. The teachers all found out if they’re staying or going. The Vice Principal is going, which is a shame, because I enjoyed talking with him. Other notables: Dai Sensei is leaving. He’s, like, the nicest person ever. And he loves practicing his English with me. A couple weeks ago, I helped him prepare for an English proficiency test by doing a mock-interview. I’m sad to see him go. The staff room won’t be as genki without him. Who will belt out the tenor part of the school song? Also leaving is the secretary – Yoshihiko Sensei – another extremely nice person. She wants to get lunch again sometime. Oh, and Fukasawa Sensei – the really cute teacher who played flute in brass band – is leaving too. She’ll be teaching at elementary school from now on.

After Graduation

So, last week was graduation. The ninth graders are out of here – they all got into their high schools of choice, which is good. The school is pretty quiet without them. Why am I still at school, you ask? Graduation apparently does not mean the end of the year.

For two weeks after the ninth graders graduate, the 7th and 8th graders still have classes. This makes no sense. Then there’s a week off, and then its back to school. Weird. I don’t like it. School years should not be separated by a mere week. There’s something brilliant about a summer vacation. Done in June – return in September. Each year feels distinct – with a clear ending and a true beginning. Can you imagine if, when you graduated from elementary or middle school, you only had a week before you had to go to your new school? Welcome to the Asian school system.

Oh, there’s a summer break. But it’s hardly a vacation. The kids still come into school everyday, but instead of classes they do their club activities. No one ever gets a long break. The longest is a week at a time. The kids are never out of school for very long – even during the day. They get here at 7:30, and, now that the days are getting longer, they stay until six. Six! The system is designed so that the kids have no lives outside of school. They even come in on Saturdays for club activities. In the West, you go to school, do your schoolwork, then go home. The process is streamlined. School just feels like one part of your life – not the whole thing.

I don’t know why anyone would want to be a teacher in this country. The pay is relatively low and the hours are insane. The kids are frequently in school for over ten hours but the teachers stay even longer. Many times it ends up being a twelve-hour day. Do they have so much work? No. But the culture dictates that everyone come in and look busy for the better part of the day. Oh, I forgot to mention that there’s no such thing as tenure, and teachers are moved from school to school approximately every 3 or 4 years. These changes are made during spring break. This year, spring break starts on Wednesday the 26th. The teachers will be told by the Board of Education if they are being moved on the 25th. Then, they will have the week of spring break to move themselves to a new school. What if you get moved across the prefecture, a one-and-a-half hour’s drive away? Sometimes this requires uprooting your family. Other times it requires getting an apartment near your new school and living there six days out of the week (if you’re at school for 12 hours a day, you can’t afford another 3 hours of commuting time). The whole thing is crazy.

Ugh, the teachers are about to have a meeting. Who knows when they’ll be done? I think, last time, the meeting lasted until 7 (its 3:30 now). Why do they have these meetings? Many of the teachers have admitted to me that the meetings are pointless – just a forum for the vice principal to ramble endlessly. I mean, he’s an expert on so many diverse topics (photography, astronomy, carpentry, the dangers of the yakuza, the city of Miami, big-band jazz, coffee, etc.). Why wouldn’t you want to listen to him for hours?

Graduation Practice

I had to get out of there. Graduation practice is so boring. Practice walking in, practice clapping while the graduates walk in, practice sitting down, practice standing up, practice bowing… Everything has to be so meticulously choreographed. “When I take the first step up to the podium, everyone stands up. Now lets practice that a couple times…. Ok, when I sit down, everyone sits down. Now lets practice that a couple times… Ok, when I bow everyone bows… When I put this paper over here, everyone sits down. Now lets practice that a couple times…” I was ready to go crazy.

They even practiced getting their diplomas – step up, bow, principal reads what’s on the diploma, student receives the diploma (left hand, then right hand), bows and exits, all set to music – for all the graduates. Why bother having a graduation ceremony? We just did the whole thing.

Update: The teachers just came into the teachers’ room to have a meeting about how graduation practice is going. I assume the students are still in the gym, practicing. They discussed what needed to be worked on, and then left to go do more practice. How much longer is this thing going on? Isn’t it time for lunch yet?


ps - Wow. Today was the first day we haven’t had milk for lunch. Instead, we had liquid strawberry yoghurt to drink. Chigaimasu – chotto hen desu ne.

Japanese TV Part 3

I recently watched a show where a female pro-wrestler and her goofy, nerdy-looking husband went and ate at various restaurants. They were apparently visiting the ten best restaurants for “nabe”. Nabe is a type of food. It is a bunch of stuff (usually mushrooms, konyaku noodles, cabbage, and chunks of fish) sitting in a boiling, watery broth. It’s pretty tasteless. And it all looks the same. Why spend 5 minutes explaining what’s in this particular nabe? It’s the same stuff that’s in all nabe. At each restaurant, the waiter brings out the pot of bubbling nabe to the odd-couple, and they, without fail, say “segoii!” Like they’ve never seen anything like it before. It looks the same as the last pot of nabe! Why does that impress you? Then, there’s a tense moment where they taste it for the first time. The camera gets up real close as they blow on it and take the first bite of the boiled, unseasoned fish. Everyone holds their breath. And then, “oishii!” Once the tension is gone, the goofy music starts to play as we watch them eat the rest of the nabe in time-lapse (with a timer speeding by at the bottom of the screen – for no reason). It usually takes them about 15 minutes to finish the whole, tasteless bowl.

This show was on for, I kid you not, an hour and a half. How is that an hour and a half show? At most, it should be a ten minute segment.

This is what they put on the TV at the gym…

Hong Kong (Part 3)

Lantau Island – one of Hong Kong’s larger but less inhabited areas. Lantau boasts the world’s largest outdoor Buddha (now accessible by a scenic 25 minute cable car ride) as well as numerous hiking trails. After much deliberation, you will decide to buy a one-way cable-car ticket. How will you get back down? Who knows. In your cable car you will meet a nice Chinese couple (with his parents). They are originally from the mainland, but they went to college in America (he went to Georgetown – smart guy). They met while working in NYC, moved to Beijing (his hometown) for a few years, and have spent the last five in Hong Kong (his parents are just visiting). They will tell you all about Lantau’s many hiking trails, and suggest a daily plan for you. They will tell you that there is a trail from the Buddha to the top of Lantau Peak, but it is difficult. You will ignore their warning. You plan to see the Buddha, hike to the peak, then take a bus to a harbor town, and then catch a ferry back to Hong Kong.

After spending slightly too much time at the Buddha (and lunch) you decide in the late afternoon to quickly hike to the peak. At the outset of your journey, you will meet many people on their way down. You will ask each of them how much longer it will take to get to the top. Basic logic dictates that the closer you get to the top, the less time it will take to get there. Basic logic does not exist on the path to Lantau Peak. The first person you meet will tell you “45 minutes – max”. The next person will tell you that you are an hour and a half away. Further up the mountain, a third group inform you that you still have an hour forty-five to go. The path up the mountain consists of a series of steps made of rock that cut, practically, a vertical course up the side of the mountain. Walking up will be unpleasant. “But it will all be worth it when you get to the top and see the amazing view,” you will tell yourself. When you finally get to the top, after almost two hours, there will be no amazing view. Oh, there is potential for an amazing view – but, no amazing view. Freakin China… During the winter months, smog blows from the factories on the mainland and settles over Hong Kong. It would be gorgeous here… The Chinese will destroy their country. Hopefully they won’t take Hong Kong with it. Hiking back down takes a while, and, like going up, is painful (but in a different way). The sun is setting by the time you get back to the Buddha.






On the final day of your trip, you will take a bus through the mountains to the south side of Hong Kong Island. There, there are beaches and markets. It will be a beautiful day.





In the afternoon, your friend will have to leave. His flight will fly out this evening. You will not be leaving until the following morning. You will say goodbye to him – thank him for an amazing trip. Then, you will go back to the harbor to finally see the light-show. It will be a total let-down. But you will meet some nice Korean guys and have a conversation about cameras with them.



The next morning, at Hong Kong airport, you will bump into some fellow Yamanashi JETs. You knew they would be in China when you were, but didn’t know that they would be leaving Hong Kong (of all places) on the same flight. You will have traveling companions on the trip back to Japan.

Hong Kong (Part 2)

You will spend the first day wandering around the city. It is awesome – warm and bustling. You will make your way to the mid-levels – an international neighborhood that gradually slopes into the mountains. You will ride the winding series of escalators that take you to the top, but you will make a brief stop to get pizza. After months of eating gross to mediocre (possibly mayonnaise filled) pizza in Japan, this Hong Kong pizza will be delicious. Mmm, authentic pizza. It will severely burn the roof of your mouth (a necessary sacrifice to save your tongue), but you won’t care. After checking the price of real-estate in this neighborhood (yikes!) you will reboard the escalators and take them to the top. Walking back down will take you through some odd paths, and you will eventually reach a zoo randomly situated in a park/forest south of the city. The jaguar will not be doing anything, but the gibbons will be interesting. They sure do know how to have a good time. In one of the parks, you will meet a young Asian-American mother with a midwestern accent. When you ask her, she will tell you that Obama won the Iowa caucus. Hazzah! A good day indeed.


That night, you will take the world famous tram up to Victoria Peak – a high point on Hong Kong island with a view of the entire city. At the top is a 5-story shopping center complete with an EA store and wax museum. You will forgo the wax museum to play several rounds of NBA Street: Homecourt at the EA store. If your parents’ could see you and your friend playing videogames at a tourist attraction at the top of Hong Kong, they would laugh – or yell. After this realization, you only played for another two minutes. At the top of the viewing station, you will be treated to an amazing view of the city. You will also meet some American travelers who claim that you can view the nightly light-show from the peak. This is untrue. From your vantage point, you can tell that a light show exists – for other people, who are standing in designated light-show-viewing areas. The peak is not one of these areas. You will not be able to enjoy the light show.


After the unviewable light-show, you will decide not to take the tram back down the mountain, but rather, take the hour walk down the dimly lit trails that lead into the city. As you are on your way to do this, you encounter a young Hong Kongian (Hong Konger? Hong Kongese?) couple. When you ask them the location of the footpath, they will talk you out of walking down the mountain. They will not say, “It is a stupid idea,” but this is what they will be thinking. Instead, they will convince you to take the tram back down with them.

Hong Kong (Part 1)

Hong Kong will be great. It will be warm and sunny and beautiful. You will go through customs to get there. It is practically a different country.

The first thing you will notice about Hong Kong is the warm weather. It will be nice. The second thing you will notice is that the gritty, narrow streets with glowing, hanging advertisements occupying all the space above street level, bustling with people at all hours of the night – the city looks like it does in the movies. You expect a John Woo style shootout to ensue at any moment. This place is cool.

The third thing you will notice is that everyone is short. Cantonese people are short. This will be especially noticeable having just come from Beijing, where everyone is tall. The fourth thing you will notice is that all these short Cantonese people speak English. Yay!

The fifth thing you will notice is that the people are much more well-dressed and put together than people on the mainland – no pajamas here. Also, there’s no spitting. Why is there no spitting? The people of Hong Kong keep their mucus to themselves? Is it a secret? No, it’s civilization. Welcome to the first world!

That night you will make your way down to the harbor for a much talked-about, nightly light-show. However, you will arrive twenty minutes late and will be unable to see it. Instead, you will wander around Kowloon. Kowloon is more active at night than it is during the day. You will visit the area’s many open-air night markets. The markets will occupy entire streets for blocks at a time. They will be enormous. The markets and the surrounding restaurants and shops will be open well into the night. You will browse clothing stores after midnight. When you go back to your hotel at 1 AM, the crowd will show no signs of waning.