桜咲く (Sakura Saku)

As some of you may already know, I will leave the land of the rising sun this summer. Although I still have two months left in Asia to gather my thoughts and belongings, the goodbyes began in April, and I'm still not ready for it.

I've never associated the season of spring with goodbyes. In Japan, as a coworker explained, spring is a time to bid farewell, in order to welcome a new start. For this reason, the new school year begins in April and new professionals begin their careers. Because, spring -- with the blossoms and the warm weather approaching -- is a welcome transformation. It's the occasion to reveal a new face, one that is more beautiful than the former. My coworker finds it strange that Western academic and professional calendars begin in the fall, when the trees lose their leaves and look so frail and daunting in the nude. In my mind, the shedding of leaves symbolizes losing old habits, in order to make room for new and improved changes. We must reflect on our lives and gather wisdom as we endure the winter. Only when we have persevered through tests and trials do we truly emerge as beautiful beings. In this new state, we have reached our utmost triumph, we have moved into our personal spring. But in Japan, the process gives everyone the opportunity to start with a clean slate, free of the errs of the past, as pure as the flowers which bloom. Inevitably, we must say goodbye to people and places as we start our new cycle in spring. This spring, I had to say goodbye to some students, teachers and friends. And this summer, I will have to say goodbye to plenty more.

There is a saying in Japanese, "sakura saku" or "the cherry blossom is blooming," which is used to describe someone who has shown progress. I have felt myself grow these past two years, and I can only hope that the changes are apparent, that I have something to show, for the two cycles of personal "sakura" I have seen come and go.

With two months left, it's time to prepare for my return to my Golden State, California. For you, my reader, I will try to blog as much as possible, before this adventure in Japan comes to an end, as I try to hold on to spring.

In both Japanese and Western mentality, spring marks the chance to get things right. To be loved, to be pure, to be beautiful. Unfortunately, we must accept the changes that our newfound beauty brings. But when we must say goodbye, at least we have the opportunity to grow as the flowers do, adorning the branches in our lives to become more beautiful.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words, Part 3

Life is full of awkward moments.  Like that awkward moment when...

... you're caught laughing at someone's shirt, while taking a picture of it. And no one around you knows enough English to understand why it's so funny.

...you forgot you were wearing Christmas socks, until you took off your shoes in someone's home, in the middle of March.

... your childhood obsession becomes a symbol for Hooters.

... you find out someone had been using your desk while you were out. They forgot to hide the evidence one day!

...your pastry is larger than your planner.  I'm half kidding, since this particular oversized dorayaki was actually a gift from someone. But there have been others...

...the student you randomly chose, to present in front of the class, had this to say about his summer vacation. Ok, I'm kidding about this one, too. Still an awkward response, though.

Los Caminos De La Vida

Since Japan is very bicycle friendly, you can find ramps of all sorts in this country. For instance, there are narrow ramps bordering stairs, so that people can walk their bikes up or down and not have to get into a fight with the steps. Most people air on the side of caution and do walk their bikes down. However, some people don't get off of their bikes and instead speed down these ramps, risking sliding off the edge and landing on the steps.

Today, I tried to be one of those people. My local supermarket has a small set of stairs that leads into a residential street. Normally, and for obvious reasons, I get off of my bike and walk down. Tonight, I wanted to be like those carefree teens that zoom down said ramp. The warm breeze was encouraging, my bike felt so light, and no one seemed to be around, so I took off.

I was halfway down this short ramp, when I got scared. I changed my mind about the whole thing, lost confidence, and took my right foot off of the pedal in order to step on the ground and stop the bike. The bike stopped, but I lost my balance and the bike started leaning to the right, tottered onto the steps, and I clumsily made it down the last few steps. I might or might not have cursed... I thought my bumpy ride was over, but the bike was still in motion after the incline, and it swerved in front of two high school boys standing by an adjacent vending machine. My bike folded over in front of one of them, and I slowly fell over, too. One of the boys helped me up as I apologized, and he reassured me that everything was ok as he helped me arrange my bag and baguette back into my basket. If an unexpected storm doesn't fling food out of my basket, my clumsiness will. (Storm+grocery shopping = flying avocados)

If I hadn't hesitated, I definitely could have made it down that ramp, but I wavered in my resolve and failed. Later, as I was laughing at myself about the whole thing, I thought about a song titled, "Los Caminos De la Vida" or "The Paths of Life." Specifically, I thought of these lines:

"Los caminos de la vida no son como yo pensaba, como los imaginaba, no son como yo creia. Los caminos de la vida son muy dificil de andarlos, dificil de caminarlos..."

Roughly translated:

"The paths of life are not as I thought they would be, not as I imagined nor believed they would be. The paths of life are difficult to trod down, difficult to walk on..."

I thought about this song, because it has been on my mind lately. I started thinking about the lyrics of this song after my family was forced to say goodbye to someone this past week. We can't ever be completely sure of where life will take us. And though we may hope for the best, we may have to deal with the worse. Tonight, I was hopeful that I would make it down the ramp, but I lost confidence halfway through. Though I can't change the outcome now, perhaps the results would have been better if I had just been more confident. Or maybe things would have turned out the same, but at least I could have said that I did my best. Tonight's incident is a silly, trivial example, but I sincerely learned from this lesson. Because other times, the road is much wider and the stakes higher.  My aunt's sons, brothers and doctors did all they could to try to save her after the accident, and that's what counts.

No matter which path you choose, you may or may not have control of the destination, but take it with confidence anyway, and be hopeful. I'm hopeful. I still have you, and you have me. We'll be alright =)

Sweet dreams!

Operation Broken Shredder

How many Japanese people does it take to fix a broken paper shredder? Take a look...

If you answered five or six, you were misled by the picture. Sorry... trick question!

In reality, two teachers managed to fix this broken shredder. However, in a community driven society, everyone feels the need to help out and do their part. Therefore, a group of teachers came to "help out" by providing moral support as bystanders. The two teachers tackling the jaws of the shredder would have fared well without them, but the other teachers came, nonetheless.

Meanwhile, two Americans had front row tickets to the event that this simple task unreeled into. The other ALT and I took it upon ourselves to document the large turnout. We couldn't help ourselves; we giggled as we not so sneakily took pictures.

Through the Good, the Bad and the Awkward: I am an ALT

Today, there was confusion on the brink of chaos in the staff room. Someone had made a mistake, and this mistake meant that no teacher was going to receive his or her pre-ordered lunch box. The lunch box, or bento, is a pretty big deal in Japan. And today, high schools in Hyogo prefecture rewarded teachers, for dressing sharply and arriving extra early to administer tests for incoming junior high school students, by arranging the delivery of bentos. Except that my base school didn't receive their bentos, because the bento distributors mixed up the dates. Therefore, when lunch time came around, there wasn't any food. Someone managed to provide all teachers with instant ramen as a "starter course," but the grumbling and mumbling could be heard across the staff room. I'm sorry to say, but improvising is not a forte in Japanese culture. And when it comes to food (or lack thereof), I completely understand.

As for me, I am always exempt from the partaking of the communal bentos, since I am a vegetarian. I always bring my own lunch instead, and they even reimburse me for having to bring my own lunch.

Well, I didn't pack a lunch this morning, so I wanted to cycle over to the nearest supermarket to buy lunch. I had intended on going at around eleven, but I got caught up organizing my desk. It wasn't until 12:30 that I finished. I was preparing to go out as the teacher who sits next to me entered the staff room and asked about the lunch boxes. Another teacher explained the situation. Mr. Hungry didn't look pleased and asked if he was allowed to exit the school to get food. Of course, the answer was no, yet I was on my way out. All for one and one for all. Such is life in Japan. Except when you're a foreigner and a vegetarian. I wanted to wait a bit before heading out of the school, but I was already wearing my jacket and my backpack was on. I sheepishly said my "ittekimasu" or "I'll be back" and exited the staff room. Awkward, considering that the other teacher had just said that everyone had to endure and wait, but a girl's gotta eat...

I saw one of the office ladies at the supermarket as she was piling store made bentos into a shopping basket. The teachers did finally get their lunch, and though I made it to school before the bentos did, I waited until the other teachers started eating before I dug into my meal, just in case any grudges would be born...

Just another day in the staff room.

Here is the lunch box my friend Lorrie, another ALT, received at her school. This is what the teachers at my school had expected to receive...

Instead, they got supermarket bentos that resembled these. Still pretty, I think. But then again, I am no bento expert...

Kids Say the Darnest Things! Part I

When I have the occasional free day from teaching, I am thankful for the break, because trying to persuade students, all the time, that English is "fun" is tiring.

As relaxing as down time may be, it starts to take a toll on me when days, even weeks pass without teaching. I start to miss the students and the things they say. Oh, the ridiculous(ly funny) things they say sometimes... One of the best things about this job is the way in which the students spark up my day with the predictable and unexpected things they say.

I say predictable, because there are certain comments that I can always expect to hear. For example, I constantly hear, "kawaii" yelled across classrooms, hallways and even out windows. "Kawaii" means "cute" and it is easily the most overused word in the typical Japanese girl's vocabulary. It can be used to describe just about anything, especially ALTs. I used to feel special, until I heard a girl call one of the other teachers "kawaii"... I'll leave it at that haha.

Besides the usual "kawaii," the girls always have something to say about my image. One girl told me that I must be "motemote," or in other words, very popular among the Japanese boys. (Do we live in the same Japan? :p) Other girls tell me that I'm beautiful. Even some of the boys will pipe in and call me "beautiful" or "cute," except that their intentions aren't always as pure. Often, messages get lost in translation. During Halloween, I dressed up as a male student. The sleeves on the uniform were too short, and the blazer fit awkwardly. I had just finished joking about it, with a group of girls, when one of them turned to her friend and said, "No, no. Kelly, nice body!" Or another time, a group of girls were walking past me in the hallway, and I heard one of them say, "Kelly-sensei is cute!" I replied, "thank you!" They hadn't expected that -- they thought I hadn't been listening. My response triggered a flow of comments that started with a louder, "Kelly-sensei is cute!" Then, "Kelly-sensei is beautiful!" And finally, one of the girls yelled, "Kelly-sensei is perfect!" Unfortunately, this girl got scolded by a teacher for being too loud. Oops.

But things aren't always peaches and cream. For about a week, a male student insisted on running past my classroom everyday, while chanting, "Kelly, fat!" Once in a while, he would add, "diet!" to the end of the sentence. I would simply smile at him and let it slide. It's attention that he wants, of course, and I won't indulge him unless he has something less rude to say. I really hope that he doesn't go around commenting on girls' weights, because that I wouldn't tolerate.

Often, I wonder where the kids first heard some of the things they say. One boy always greets me with a "hey, crazy!" During the holidays, he signed his Christmas card to me with his new alias, "Crazy Boy." One girl discovered the word, "baby" and for about a day added it to the end of every sentence. Her one-liners included the following: "Hello, baby!", "I don't know, baby.", "Really, baby?", "Kelly, baby!" and "See you, baby!" I had to try my best to act professionally, instead of laughing like I really wanted to. She paused before saying "baby"and her tone changed dramatically from the rest of the sentence when she said it. Comedy!

Sometimes, the students' curiosity catches me off guard. One Friday, my third-year students were supposed to be doing group work, when one of them flagged me over to ask me a question. I expected him to ask about the dialogue, but instead he asked, "If you're American, why is your hair dark?" I wasn't expecting that, so the first thing that came to mind was, "there are many kinds of people in America." He still looked puzzled, so I added, "Not everyone looks the same. And some people's parents were born in a different country. For example, my parents were born in Mexico and then immigrated to the United States." The Japanese teacher had to translate that bit. He thought about it for a moment and then said, "that's so complicated." This kid has no idea just how overly complicated we make things in America.

So, yes, I miss the students. And though I'm not anxious to work within the confines of my position, I am looking forward to meeting the new first years in April. Just out of junior high school, these teenagers are full of "kawaii"s and other "keen" observations.

KAWAII OVERLOAD

It's the Little Things in Life...

In August of 2010, my sister, brother and two cousins visited me in Japan. I had been in Japan for a very short time at that point-- just a few days shy of the one month mark. They were here for about three weeks, and during the last few days, they stayed in Amagasaki. Their last morning in town, I had to leave to work before they left for the airport. So, I gave my sister my spare key, in order for her to lock up as she left. I left the apartment before they did.

When I came home that evening, I found post-it notes sprinkled and posted around my room. My sister, brother and cousins had left little thank you messages for me to find-- some funny ones, some sweet ones, and some ridiculous ones, of course. I found most of them right away, because they were conspicuously placed. However, in the following days, weeks, and even months, I discovered the strategically placed notes that were hidden in my apartment. One of my favorite finds was a note from my sister that I found while cooking. My predecessor had left me two giant Costco bottles of olive oil, so it took me a few months to get through the first one. When I finished that first bottle, I reached into the cupboard for the second one. I was delighted to find that it was decorated with a post-it note from my sister.

Today, tired and slightly discouraged with my Japanese studies, I decided to push my Japanese books aside and reach for a more interesting read instead. I am currently reading a book that my friend gave me in 2009 for my birthday. It has been a slow, but enjoyable process, of finally reading all those books that I had to put aside in college.

As I skimmed through the last section of the book -- curious about the number of pages left to read-- I noticed a bright orange square on one of the pages. The bright square turned out to be this post-it note:

For those of you who may not know, Rudy is my brother. And my brother wrote this note a year and a half ago on September 1st, chose a book from my shelf, and stuck the note on one of the pages. I had no idea. Little brother, I'm sorry it has taken me so long to find your note, but I'm glad that it took me this long to find it, because it truly, truly made my day. I love you, too.

It's the little things in life...