11,500 Miles

Living in Japan does wonders for my Mileage Plus total.

Osaka to San Francisco: 5413 miles
San Francisco to Los Angeles: 337 miles
Total: 5,750 miles.

Now, reverse and repeat itinerary, and you have an 11,500 mile trip. 11,500 miles traveled in 10 days, which equals to 22 hours of sitting on a plane. That's an awfully long travel time, especially since my stay in California was shorter than a week and a half. BUT it was totally worth it! Even worth the moments when I had to tell my nervous brain to shut up, because I'm terrified of turbulence. However, flying often makes the travel jitters go away, because you get used to it. And a long trip is always worth it when you have familiar faces that you haven't seen in over six months waiting for you at home. And when you leave those lovely faces 5,750 miles away, it's nice to have friends to notify of your return, and teachers and students that are genuinely happy to see you at school the next day.

The hardest part of coming back to Japan is that I didn't have enough time to do everything and see everyone. I did try though... and as a result, every minute of my day was booked, and I think I gained ten pounds from indulging in the rich flavors of Mom's cooking, Grandma's desserts, and California cuisine. Still, I wish I could have seen more of my family and friends. [Thank goodness for Skype, email and snail mail.] However short it was, every minute was great, and I have my AMAZING family and friends to thank for that =) It's an irreplaceable feeling to be with people that have known you for a long time, or who you feel like you've known forever. "Home is whenever I'm with you..." Can't wait for my next trip home! XXX

This time around, landing in Japan felt SO MUCH better. When I arrived back in July, I felt so overwhelmed by the foreignness of the experience and this country. I'm not going to lie, I had my doubts about whether I would last the entire year. But here I am now, loving this country and learning from the experience. I have even recontracted for a second year. Check me out Mom and Pops, I think your "little girl" is growing up. =D So this time around, I felt more confident upon exiting the plane, and let me tell you, it feels good to wait in a short "Japan re-entry" Customs line. Even the Japanese citizens had a longer line to wait in. And although I am NOWHERE near fluent, the fact that I can understand a few words of Japanese feels great. I still wonder how certain things would have turned out if I had stayed in California, but everything happens for a reason, and now I have an opportunity to meet more people and learn Japanese. Speaking of which, I should probably get back to studying...

I'll try to visit again in July, but considering the few days of vacation that I have, I might not be home until the holidays in December/January. (And to be honest, at this moment I cannot fathom the idea of getting on a plane anytime soon haha). In the meantime, please come visit!!!!! =D You'll rack up some frequent flyer miles, and this tour guide will make the long trip worth it. 11,500 miles worth it. That's a promise! =)

Nostalgia For A Feeling I've Never Known

Amagasaki today: sunny, golden morning and snowy, white afternoon. Never would this happen in Los Angeles. It's snowing outside and I can't help but watch it in awe. It falls so softly as it floats towards the ground. So gentle, but menacing with dangerous potential... like a gentle breeze just before it turns into strong wind. Luckily, it won't snow past tonight here. It's fickle snow and I don't mind that. Snow... what a small pleasure you are to watch. You're a perfect example of the novelties that make traveling exciting and separation from home bearable.

Beyond it's sheer beauty, I like watching snow fall, because it reminds me of something I've never known. Lots of sunshine, lazy fog, occasional wind and rain: my life for twenty years. Thus, living in this experience, in this precise moment, makes me wonder what life would have been like if I had grown up in a winter wonderland. What's it really like to experience snow? I'll never be able to tell you. Instead, I have my memories of tanning and sunburn...year round. And just to think that other people have never experienced sunshine the way I have, makes me feel nostalgic for memories that by chance became mine. And the fact that they are mine, and not someone else's, makes me feel a hint of loss for memories of snow that I'll never have, because if I had been born elsewhere, they could have been mine.

I can watch the snow fall, and if I choose, I can go outside to enhance the experience with all of my senses. I can successfully mimic what others experience regularly. It can feel so real in the moment, but it's a rare and fleeting occasion. I can only imagine what a complete experience of growing up with snow feels like. It's like applying theory to practice. Or comparable to the word that sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't articulate. You can taste it, but you can't feel the texture. All together, it feels like the defining moment when you know enough to realize that there's so much you don't know. And yet, you're comforted by the immensity of the void, because you realize that not knowing everything means infinite opportunity to learn. Exciting! Snow!

I may not know the entire feeling of snow, but I can stand next to those who see it every winter, and we can both observe how it covers the trees, plants and buildings in a layer of white. I'll timidly admire it from behind the window, and maybe they'll choose to twirl underneath it, but we'll both gasp at its beauty. And I'll wonder what it feels like to see snow every winter. But when the seasons change, maybe they'll wonder what it's like to have sunshine all year long. And I can tell them all about it, but they'll never be able to feel the exact nostalgia they detect in my voice.

I'm feeling nostalgic on this snowy day, nostalgia for a feeling I've never known.

All Eyes On Me

It looks like all of the shy people at the gym are finally coming out of their shell. I've noticed one thing about most people at the gym; even though they want to approach me, they won't. They usually smile, or occasionally wave, or surprise me with an English greeting, but they won't talk to me beyond that. When they finally do start a conversation with me, I realize that they've been observing me for a while. After weeks of always seeing one woman in the locker room, she finally spoke to me. She commented on the fact that I was there earlier than usual. It surprised me that she more or less knew my schedule, because although I noticed her, I wouldn't have been able to tell you when it was that I saw her. Apparently, she's not the only one that's been watching. Last Friday, one woman started to chat with me after an aerobics class. I was in the stretching room on one of the mats, and she sat down near me. I had met her before, and had discovered that she spoke English. So, we were chatting about the class. Our conversation, or the fact that we were having a conversation, became a magnet for curious bystanders. Next thing I knew, there was a group of five Japanese people “stretching” around me, as they worked their way into the conversation and proceeded to ask me all kinds of questions. After what felt like an informal Q&A session, they invited me try the exercise classes they attend. I guess I passed their screening. :p Most interestingly, I discovered that some of them had been observing me for weeks, evident by their comments regarding my performance in Zumba class. A former JET at the pre-departure orientation in Los Angeles had said that someone is always watching you when you're a foreigner in Japan. I couldn't agree more.

I'm becoming “less intimidating” to approach, because I've been trying more classes. People find it easier to talk to me, because we can talk about the class. If I hadn't gone to the Friday aerobics class a second time, I wouldn't have found myself on that mat, talking to my English speaking gym buddy. Funny thing is, I almost didn't attend the first class. The Friday that I tried the first class, I almost didn't make it to the gym. The whole fifteen-minute ride home from school, I was debating whether I should go or not. It was the classic struggle of “I'm tired, but if I go I'll feel energized after my workout, but I'm tired, but...” And that's how my thoughts circled in my head. I took the long way home to buy more time. I arrived at the intersection where turning left would mean going home, and going straight would mean heading to the gym. I realized that I would probably sit in front of my computer and eat chocolate if I went home, so I went straight. There's no turning back when you follow the yellow brick road.

On days when I barely find the drive to get to the gym, it's hard to find the self-motivation to challenge myself on the treadmill. When I don't have the motivation to push myself, I like to join a group exercise class. Nothing pushes me more than trying not to look like an idiot in a room full of fit people. So that Friday, I noticed that an aerobics class was starting. I didn't know what level it was, but I decided to try it. Why? Honestly, because the instructor had an amazingly toned body. Fit people make me want to be more fit. Ten minutes into the class, I could see why she had those lean muscles. The class was tough! There were several moments where I couldn't keep up with the strengthening exercises. When the class was over, I was covered in sweat. Now, I don't do aerobics for a living, and I could never look like the instructor anyways (thanks a lot genetics!), but you bet I'll be in the class every Friday. I'll just have to deal with the sore muscles... I've been sore ever since the first class haha. After the aerobics class, there's a yoga class in the same room. Both times, I've considered joining, but one gym challenge a day is enough. I don't want to spread myself too thin. [Param push!]

Now that I've survived two Fridays of aerobics, I'm going to try some of the classes my new gym buddies suggested. I love having this new support group. Not to mention, it's a nice occasion (to try) to speak Japanese.

Hopefully, I'll stick to the classes and not be discouraged by the cold weather. The truth is, I've started to embrace cabin fever, and sitting in my warm apartment with chocolate in hand doesn't sound so bad... :p

Stay tuned!

CANDY!

Oh, Tuesday's seventh period...you drive me crazy!

Tuesdays are by far my busiest days at school. I teach five classes, and during my free periods, I have to finish my lesson plan for the following week and get it approved by the three JTEs (Japanese teachers of English). Sometimes, I have a stack of papers that needs to be graded. Usually, I have one or two students that want to chat with me after school. Always, I have to make copies of the printouts I just finished preparing. 忙しいですね。

Despite the fact that I'm busy, I see some of my favorite classes and there's never a dull moment during the day. In fact, the day is often too eventful. Or should I say, it's end with a commotion thanks to my seventh period.

My seventh period has about six talkers in the class: the “talker pack.” What I mean by this is that they always want to be heard. They are the ones that participate the most, because they want to talk, but this doesn't mean that they're quiet when they're supposed to. They're the kings and queens of multitasking, so they can get away with talking and understanding the class material. It drives me nuts, because it distracts the students that can't multitask and are unable to focus. As a result, it's hard to move the class along.

Luckily, the “strict” teacher is in charge of this class with me, along with another teacher. I put the word strict in quotations, because she's as strict as many American teachers, but in Japan she's considered a very strict teacher. Since she doesn't tolerate any rude behavior, the students behave well for the most part, and if they don't, she stops the class and scolds them for about five minutes. This has happened a couple of times.

At this school, I work with two teachers in every class. This is because they have combined two classes into one, so that I can see all of the students at least once a week. I always wondered what would happen if the “strict” teacher was absent. Would the other teacher and I be able to control the class? Well, I got to find out last week, and the outcome was not pretty. The students kept on interrupting the other teacher and me, and kept on talking over their classmates during presentations. While explaining activities, I would refuse to talk if they weren't completely silent. I'm normally more lenient, but if I show any leniency with this class, they walk all over me. It worked, but it took up a lot of time and we didn't get through all of the material. I kept the class after the bell, and had the other teacher translate how disappointed I was in them, and warn them that I would give them more busy work if they didn't appreciate the activities. The lesson plans aren't the most interesting things in the world, but I do give them some time to do pair work, and I know that they take this time to talk with their friends. I don't mind, as long as the work gets done. So during my talk, I could tell that they didn't want to sit there any longer, but they did hear me through.

Today, I was very grateful to have the “strict” teacher in class. The class was running smoothly, until the “strict” teacher stepped out to take care of something in the hallway. The students were in the middle of answering some questions, and when they saw her leave, they jumped at the opportunity to be loud again. There is one student that is especially loud and rude: the leader of the “talker pack.” Last week, he had a verbal showdown with the other teacher. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but judging by the atmosphere of the classroom, he was being very rude. His behavior is what prompted me to give them my speech about proper behavior. So this week, I was observing his behavior in particular. He seemed to be in a better mood, and he wasn't interrupting as much. When the “strict” teacher stepped out, I expected him to take advantage of the situation and lead the bandwagon of talkers.

The “talker pack” did start to speak out of turn during the next activity. They wanted me to call on them to answer the questions. The noise level was starting to rise, and when I looked down at my paper to verify an answer, I heard one student call out, “candy!' I looked up to see who it was, and it was the leader of the “talker pack,” and he was looking straight at me. I must have looked really confused, because the whole class started looking confused, and then the student himself looked confused. The class got quiet, and the student spoke again. “Candy,” he repeated, “Candy-sensei!” Then the entire class, the other teacher, and I started laughing. The student thought my name was Candy. I corrected him, and someone told him what the word candy meant. He started laughing at his own mistake, and went off in Japanese about my name. The class reacted and quickly started getting noisy again, and I didn't want the atmosphere to turn sour again after it had just been so funny, so I was getting ready to quiet them down. I didn't have to say anything, because the leader of the “talker pack” did the talking for me. He yelled, pointed at me, and said to the class, “listen to Candy-sensei!” Some students chuckled, but soon the whole class was quiet and alert. Not even the “talker pack” made a commotion. I guess they didn't want to disappoint their leader. Class politics, you know how that goes. We continued the activity we were working on, and the “strict” teacher walked into a quiet and well-functioning class. Halleluiah!

And that my friends, is how a class of students that always gets you mad because they won't cooperate, makes it out of your 'black list” and onto your “like” list. This class owes it to the student that had been thinking for the last five months that my name is Candy.

Vive le mardi!