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