Update

This is just a quick "wild dogs eat Pete's shoes" update. Surprisingly, it turns out that wild dogs did NOT eat my shoes. Go figure.
I showed up at school today and noticed the slippers that had taken my slippers place on the feet of a teacher I didn't recognize. I asked Ms. Nakano who he was and she said he was the new shop teacher. I asked her to ask him if he had seen my shoes. Upon asking him, she discovered and relayed to me that he had chucked my shoes. He is new to the school and replaced the old shop teacher. He figured the shoes belonged to the old shop teacher, who he guessed must have really large feet, and then threw them out with the burnable garbage.
Not quite as funny as the wild dog bit, but still one for my Japan Diary.

Pete at Jakujikyo 

The Wilds

This is an interesting anecdote that highlights an aspect of Japanese culture that I've yet to understand. For a bit of background information, Mel gave me a Maori talisman a long time ago. I wore it school one day, but the cord was too loose and it slipped from my neck without me noticing. I realized it about 15 minutes later and told Ms. Nakano. We began searching for it. After a while, I gave up figuring that one of the students had picked it up and kept it. No big deal. It was my fault for bringing it and for not keeping a better eye on it. Though I told my teacher it was no problem if we couldn't find it, she insisted that I must not have brought it to school, despite commenting on it that morning herself.
Flash forward to this Monday. I arrive at school and opened up the box that I put my street shoes in when I enter the school. I have used the same box the whole time I've been here (approaching 9 months) and have had no problems. On that day, I opened it up to discover that my school sandals (which I brought from America) were missing and someone else's sandals were there instead. To check to see if they had been moved, I opened up all the other boxes, but they were nowhere to be found. I went in and asked Ms. Nakano if she knew where they had been moved to and she asked the other staff. No one seemed to know. I checked around a bit more and then the maintenance man insisted that we check the boxes again. At this point, I arrived at two possible conclusions:
1) A student had swiped my sandals from the box
2) Some teacher had moved my slippers out of the box and then they had been swiped
3) My shoes disintegrated of their own accord
There really wasn't another possibility because I always switch from my slippers straight to my shoes and vice versa and I never walk around without them. I had them the week before, so they had only been missing for a week or less. Anyway, I had another identical pair at home, so I wasn't really worried. I told Ms. Nakano and everybody else that I would bring the new pair tomorrow, so no problems. The vice-principal told me that I should order some new ones online and that the school would pay for it. I refused because if we did that and then found the slippers later on, that would be a big hassle for the school. Anyway, I had another pair.
I thought that was that. But three hours later, during one of my classes with Ms. Hiramoto, Ms. Nakano came in and told me that the vice-principal (heretofore thought of as a rational lady) wanted me to know that WILD DOGS had snatched my shoes. I serirously had to gulp down a cackle because I realized she was serious. So I nodded solemnly and said, "I see." Later, when I went down to the staff room, the vice-principal personally told me this and was supported by another teacher who said that her shoes were also nabbed by wild dogs.
Now, this isn't a very believable story for several reasons. One, I've never seen a wild dog in Japan, or even an un-leashed dog - unlike Taiwan, which is literally riddled with feral dogs. Second, the shoes were closed in a box that would be nearly impossible for a dog to open without a slimjim or some such instrument. Now, mind you, I hadn't made a fuss about the shoes and I had never suggested (out loud) that a student had stolen my slippers. But the just the idea that I might think that had caused them to suggest this highly unbelievable thing. I don't doubt the teacher who told me her shoes had been stolen, because I'm sure that that is what they told her too. I'm just not sure why they felt the need for the facade. It was the same thing when my bike was stolen. One of the teachers suggested that Russians had stolen my bike and sent it to Russia to be sold on the black market. Of course, it couldn't be mischievous Japanese teenagers (the likely culprit, considering I later found my bike outside an arcade in town) - nope, it was the evil foreign Russian mafia.
I'm not sure if the image their portraying is better though. Which sounds better? Japan: wild dogs, Russian mafia, and disinegrating necklaces OR Japan: a few bad kids. I'll let you be the judge.

Jakujikyo

A few weeks away, I joined my Greek friend Giannis and my Polish friend Richard for a trip out to Jakujikyo in Yamaguchi Prefecture. It was quite a long drive out, but well worth it. Once you get out of Hiroshima city, the landscape really opens up and you can see the beauty of Japan that is so often mired by skyscrapers and telephone wires. Richard insisted that I sit in the front seat the whole time, even though I insisted that I felt bad taking the front seat away from someone 25 years older than me. I soon found out why he was so eager for me to sit up there.
Giannis is quite the talker. For me to call someone talkitive is something, considering how much I talk when around other people. Giannis is one of only 2 people in the world that makes me feel like a quiet person. And he seems to have some kind of blinders on because the whole 12 hour round-trip, he barely ever engaged Richard directly in conversation. Richard chuckled on the return trip when I offered him the front seat again.


Anyway, the gorge was absolutely beautiful, like Sandankyo which I talked about earlier. There were sequoias and other evergreens, making the landscape seem thoroughly un-Japanese. Jakujikyo is a much shorter gorge than Sandankyo, but its a much more steep climb. The rewards for the climb however, are six lovely waterfalls that cascade into one another. Climbing to the top took only about 30 minutes or so, but it was quite refreshing.
After Jakujikyo, we swung over to Iwakuni to see the famed arched bridge and the dozens of blossoming cherry trees. Apparently half of Yamaguchi prefecture also had the same idea and the road was jammed with cars. We were stuck in the car for nearly an hour once we got within a mile of the bridge. The bridge was lovely, though, and the cherry trees on the opposite bank of the river were in full bloom.
After a brief stay, we hopped back in the car and began the long haul back to Kure.

The International Man

(Well, this actually happened some time ago, but I just recently got the pictures from it.)
Every year, the city of Kure puts on an International Festival to celebrate the various foreign cultures present in the city. Though Kure is small by Japanese standards, there are people from China, Korea, Brazil, the Philippines, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Peru, Mexico, Poland, Greece, Spain, and several others I can't think of right now. Anyway, this year, I was asked to host the festival with my Japanese teacher, Noriko Karasaki. I immediately agreed.
Noriko and I decided it would be funny if we switched roles and I was the Japanese MC and she was the English MC. For about a week, we wrote out pages of script for the event, with all the introductions and transitions and such. I got more and more nervous by the day. During formal occasions, Japanese people speak a special kind of super-formal Japanese that is quite different for the everyday Japanese that I marginally speak. As the script got longer and longer, more and more unrecognizable words kept popping up, and I got increasingly worried. Still, Noriko encouraged me.
We also decided that I would dress up in a very traditional male outfit called a haori hakama that actually belonged to Noriko's husband's grandfather. Obviously, it was a bit short, causing people to snicker at my bare calves.
Nervous as I was, the event went off mostly without a hitch and everyone had a good time. There were two parts, a Japanese Speech Exhibition and a World Performance Event. For the Speech Exhibition 8 foreign residents of Kure made speeches about themselves/their countries in Japanese. The World Perfomance Events were the most interesting, though. There was a bosa nova band, a Chinese martial arts demonstration, and medly by the Crazy Foreigners Club (クレージ外人協会) made up of Melody, Jason, Masato, and Julie, a teacher from England. Julie performed a very difficult violin piece, Masato did hip-hop dancing, and Mel and Jason performed several Maori songs and Jason did the hakka, a traditional Maori dance.
The show closed with a group of elderly Japanese ladies dancing the hula with their granddaugthers. It was really cute until someone pulled me on stage and made me dance with them. Of all the pictures they took that day, the one of me dancing the hula was the one that made it into the papers and into the hands of my students.

Sakura

Spring is here, which in Japan means that the sakura are blooming. For the uninitiated, that means cherry blossoms. They are Japan's national flower and the Japanese go crazy for them. There are innumerable paintings, poems, and songs dedicated to cherry blossoms. You could probably stay at karaoke for two hours only singing songs titled Sakura.
The trees are ubiquitous throughout Japan and Kure is no exception. The pictures shown here are taken from my school and from a playground 50 meters from my apartment. Last night, I went flower viewing with some friends from the international center. Flower viewing, hanami, is quite popular at this time of year. Friends and coworkers typically gather under cherry trees, eat, chat, and take in the scenery. I was surprised when my friends asked me to go at night, but when we arrived I discovered there were many bright lights illuminating the hillside we were on. We had a nice, long conversation, about 50% of which I understood.
Most Japanese people are surprised when I tell them that I have actually been flower-viewing in America. In the Liberal Arts Quadrangle at the University of Washington, there are a plethora of cherry trees donated over the years by the Japanese government. The trees are shaped in a large "W". Check out the UW's website for some spring and fall pictures. During college, the flowers would bloom around the end of February, just as winter quarter was finishing and spring quarter was beginning. Though it was often blustery and cold, I used to sit outside and eat lunch with my friends. Seeing the trees now reminds me of my experiences in college.
Please enjoy these pictures.

Jason and Mel Get Married

A couple weeks ago, Kure's favorite foreigners, Jason and Mel, got married. They have been engaged for a while now and decided to tie the knot here in Japan. They decided to delay the ceremony until the return to New Zealand, but after a lot of paperwork (back and forth to New Zealand), and a trip to Kure City Hall, they are officially married. Since they aren't going to have a ceremony for a while, I decided it was a good idea to throw a dinner party for them so all their good friends could celebrate their union.
We went to 大山元, a Chinese restaurant that a friend of mine works at. About 20 of us gathered there, divided between Mel and Jason's foreign and Japanese friends. The conversation was great and the food was plentiful. Everyone made a speech to congratulate Mel and Jason, who also said some nice things. Through course after course of Japanese-style Cantonese food, we all chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each others' company. Once dinner was finished, I led us in a "banzai" cheer and then Mel had us play a couple fun games.
Now, Mel and Jason are on a honeymoon in Hong Kong. On their way back from Hong Kong, they are going to stop in Taiwan for a few days and visit Judy and Dustin in Tainan. Understandably, I'm jealous they get to go back before I do. But I'm very happy they get to see Taiwan and they'll have some good tour guides. So, if you have time (and if you're in Japan), congratulate Mel and Jason on their union.

Pomp and Circumstance

Today was graduation at the junior high level. In Japan, the school year runs from April to March, so I will actually be finishing up the first semester when I depart in July. Both of my junior highs had their respective graduations today, so unfortunately I could only go to one. And, I also didn't have a choice in the matter. I guess last year my predecessor went to Miyahara's graduation, so this year I was told that I would be going to Katayama's.
I put on a suit for the first time in 7 months and headed out to school. I hobnobbed with the other well-dressed teachers for a few minutes before heading up to the gym. Everyone commented on how nice I looked, which is either a compliment or a nice way of telling me I should dress better.


This school's graduation seemed to be the exact opposite of my graduation experiences. The students names are called first (after a little introduction and then the singing of the beautiful national anthem Kimigayo). Then there were three long (boring) speeches by the principal, the head of the Kure Board of Education, a representative of the mayor's office, and the chairman of the PTA. From what I could gather, they all said relatively the same things. In Japan, at formal occasions, speakers are selected for their importance without any regard for the revelance of what they are going to say (or how good of a speaker they might be). So the speeches were a drag, but then the students sang some beautiful songs that had half of them crying and then there were two more speeches; one by the outgoing student body president and one by the representative of the kohai (underclassmen). These two speeches were warm, touching, and accompanied by a piano. During the speeches, most of the students began to cry (some quite heavily) as they pondered the end of their time together. At least four or five of the teachers joined them.

Once the speeches were done, there was one final bow, the final singing of the school song, and then the students marched out. So many, both boys and girls, were weeping. It was really touching and I could see that many of the teachers were moved.
After the ceremony, I mingled with the students, posed for a lot of pictures, and then had lunch with the teachers. Tonight, I'll meet up with the teachers for a graduation party. They're a fun group, so it should be a good time. More on that later.

The Weather in Japan

This post is in response to the many emails and posts I get asking me to discuss the weather here in Japan. No, that's a joke. Nobody emails me and nobody posts. And if they did, I doubt they would ask me about the weather in Japan. Low-interest mortgages, Christian singles online, penis enlargement, breast enlargement, perhaps, but not about the weather.
However, the weather plays an important role in life here. In fact, the Japanese discuss the weather. A lot. When I lived in Taiwan, the surest way of starting a conversation was to inquire about whether the other person had eaten or if they knew of a good food stall. In fact, the Taiwanese expression for hello (ja ba buei) literally translates to "Have you eaten yet?". In Japan, the surest way of beginning a conversation is to mention the weather. Though it sounds corny to American ears, discussing the weather is an especially good topic here and one which Japanese people seem to enjoy greatly. Traditionally, letters and speeches are begun with a salutation and some comment on the weather. The arrival of fall, the coming of spring, etc.
Thus, this post. Right now, it's cold. My fellow gaijin sensei would describe it as "damn cold" but I'm a true Washingtonian, so it's only long-sleeve shirt weather. However, in the upper reaches of Hiroshima prefecture, there is quite a bit of snow - that's where the fore and aft pictures were taken. Here in Kure, there is very little rain and cloudy days are intermitent. It does get quite chilly at night and without central air or any insulation in the walls, my apartment gets a bit nippy. Fortunately, I have an electric coil space heater circa 1972 that is not dangerous at all, mostly because I haven't actually seen it shoot sparks.
Like in Taiwan, the weather in Japan can change quite rapidly. I remember back home, clouds would lazily drift across the sky, like fat people strolling in Georgia. Here, the things scoot around like skinny Mississippi crackheads late for a Klan meeting.
I'm told the spring time is lovely and the world famous cherry blossoms will be blooming soon. Sort of an anti-climactic thing - they are just flowers, after all - but I'm sure it will be nice. I'll take some pictures of them, too. For now, here's the snow.

Elementary

In addition to my two junior highs, I also work at 4 different elementary schools (shougakko) - Tatsukawa, Kojinmachi, Miyahara, and Tsubonouchi. I typically visit an elementary school for half a day, usually in the afternoon. Though I only go to one particular school maybe twice a month, since I have so many, I have at least two elementary visits a week - sometimes three.
Teaching at elementary is my least favorite thing about my job, for many reasons. I like the kids, they are interesting, very curious, and of all my students, they are the most likely to talk to me. I wish I could extract the same desire for communication out of my recalcitrant junior high students. The elementary kids are alwasy happy to see me and, with the notable exception of the sixth graders, are good learners and motivated. Still, whenever I see an elementary visit on my schedule, I silently wince, wish for a cancellation, and utter my second-favorite Japanese word, "taigee". This literally means "tiring" but it is a catch-all slang term used by those in the Hiroshima area for things which they do not want to do. I hear this A LOT in my English classes.
Here are my complaints about elementary:
1) I don't see the students enough. At each school, which class I teach is rotated. This means that, even though I have made perhaps 10 visits to Tsubonouchi, I haven't seen any one particular class more than 3 times. This means that the students aren't accustomed to me and I'm still every bit a novelty. This also means that it is more than a month between visits for any particular class, so it's like I'm starting all over again.
2) The lessons aren't reinforced. Unlike at the junior high level, English is not required ciriculum for elementary students. Thus, very (very) few of the teachers speak it. This is not especially a problem for me in relation to the Japanese teachers because I speak enough Japanese to conduct class and to chat with them during break times. It is a problem in that the teachers don't go over the covered material with the students, so each time I visit a class, it is as though I was never there before. The only students who remember what I taught last time are the ones who go to cram school and study on their own time. And yet, the school wants me to "advance" with the curriculum as though the students have mastered what we've already covered.
3) I'm always treated as a guest. Don't get me wrong, the elementarys treat me very well. They always smile and greet me, bring me tea, do my copying, and generally pamper me. However, this is how guests are treated. At my junior highs, I do my own copying, and I often pour tea for my co-workers because I'm the most junior member (this is my choice, not a requirement). As such, I'm accepted as a (almost) fellow teacher at my junior highs. At the elementarys I'm just a guest.
4) Really small sandals. Okay, this may sound like a nitpicky thing, but read on anyway. You mustn't wear street shoes inside the schools, so I brought three pairs of sandals for indoors. One pair is at home and two pairs are at my two junior highs. Since I'm always shuttling around between elementary schools, I often can't bring my own sandals and so I must wear the school's. Though they are adult size, I could probably have fit into them when I was in elementary school. Picture me stalking around the school, Tyrannosaurus-like while a cadre of pint-sized kids scuttle behind me snickering.

Really, it's not that bad .. the visits are short and only mildly painful. The problem is, that it could be so much better. Kids learn so well at that age and I think the city is truly wasting a golden opportunity by running the program the way they do. But, hey, I'm just a silly gaijin who can't fit into his slippers.
(( Above and below are not pictures of my elementary students, but they are of similar age and disposition ))