Universal Language

I didn't forget about my blog. I haven't had anything interesting to write until this week. And this week has been crazy. The last two weeks have been crazy. I thought busy season was in March...and it was. I thought April was busy season...and it was. May was busy. And so is June. They keep telling me it will slow down, but I doubt it will. Luckily, my vacation starts next Friday (WOOHOO!).

Most of you know I help coach the junior high basketball team. Yesterday I taught them "I'm sweaty" and "You are stinky"...very practical English on a hot day. So we've been practicing until about 6, which means I get home around 6:30. But this Sunday is chutairen. I'm not sure what it means, but it's the last tournament my 3rd grade players can play. I'm sad and glad at the same time. My 3rd grade students are finally warming up to me, and I'm sad I won't be able to play with them every day after this weekend. Also because my team of 8 will be down to 4. But once this tournament is over, we'll go back to finishing around 5:30, which means I'll get home around 6. It's a little bittersweet.

Most days I go to more PE classes than English classes. Today was no exception. I've played sports I didn't even know were sports...like indoor curling and indoor field hockey. Most days I don't know I'm going to PE class. Some schools schedule their classes for the day, so I can join all the English and PE classes. Days like today. I taught all my junior high students English during 2nd period, taught the junior high PE class 4th period, and joined PE baseball during 5th period with the elementary school.

While I complain about getting home late and falling asleep at 7:30 while I eat dinner, I can't complain. I'm exercising every day. I get to do what I love--play sports. They told me in accounting that numbers are the universal language. And sure, I can help my students when I sit in on their math classes. 2 + 2 = 4 in every country...usually. But numbers don't have any emotion. Numbers don't care. My students (finally) learned high-fives and a big smile are my way of saying "Good job" after they slug a double during baseball or make a 3-pointer at the buzzer or get the principal out during dodgeball. Sports cross over the language barrier and suddenly I'm not the English-teacher-who-looks-like-everyone-else-but-speaks-really-bad-Japanese; I'm part of the team. They aren't my students-who-look-like-my-cousins-but-can't-understand-anything-they-say; they're teammates. Man, have I got it good.

City Life

I wrote this...and then I lost it. And now it's been found!

I spent four years living in the city. I battled freeway traffic every Dodger and Laker game. Forget that, I battled freeway traffic every day. I fell asleep to wailing sirens every night. I grabbed Starbucks coffee every morning because 1) Corporate America brainwashed me and 2) there was one on every corner. I ate out more than I ate in my apartment because, well, I could. I locked the door when I left the apartment and when I came home. I locked my car as soon as I got in and as soon as I got out. No one ever stole my entire bike, just the wheels (one more than occasion).

But now I’ve spent 10 months in the countryside. I battle hay trucks down the one-lane, winding mountain roads. I fall asleep to rain dancing on my roof. I breathe fresh air every single morning (except when it’s windy and it smells like cow). I lock the door when I leave and when I come home, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it since I have to put my shoes on every time I need to open my door for someone. I lock my car when I run into the store to grab dinner, but the people next to me often leave their keys in the ignition and engine running. I’ve been given more food, more rides, more vegetables than I can imagine.

Last Friday (6/10), I made the 6-hour journey after work to head to the city. 2 trains and a subway ride later, I stood in my friends’ apartment filled with English and laughter. It’s a long trip, an expensive trip, but the smiles, the laughter, the Mexican food (really legit Mexican food), the late nights talking, the breakfast conversations, and friends make it totally worth it.

Mom, look! I have friends!

Kimi came up to Sapporo to dance! Super legit! Check the videos on Youtube!

And yes, we're both Americans.

No, those are not peace signs...we're Trojans.

Emmy's...quite possibly the best restaurant in all of Hokkaido.

Of course she learned to make Mexican food in LA.

What 6-hour trip to the city is complete without Starbucks?

I hopped on the usual 2:20 train to come home on Sunday afternoon. In Japan, everything is on time. I get there at 2:15, and my train isn’t on the board. They keep making some announcement but I can’t understand it. I go through the gate, head up to the platform where my train should be, and there’s no train. No one is there. I walk over to an attendant who starts talking to me really quickly and then starts running. Run down the stairs, through the station, to the other side of the station, and up the stairs to an incredibly crowded platform of unhappy people. It’s 2:25 and a train comes. It’s not my train but everyone seems to be getting on. I ask another attendant. Take it to another station and wait there for your train. Too bad the train was made for reserved ticket holders and not us. We waited in between seats, in between aisles, in between cars, swaying back and forth with all our stuff for a good 30 minutes. Finally I get to the new station. I get off. I wait.

“English teacher.”

I turn around. Someone old man is pointing at me.

“You’re the Shibecha English teacher, right?”

It was a little creepy he knew that. He asked why I was in the city and how I was getting back to the village from town. I told him the train. He said since our long train would be late to town that I’d probably miss the train to the village. I didn’t think about that. He said if the train to the village wasn’t there, he would drive me home. He also knew I was Pegleg’s neighbor. I still had no clue who he was. So I got a ride home from town from a semi-stranger. Only in Japan is it semi-okay to get a ride home from a semi-stranger.

I found out at work he was the old superintendent…and I had met him before.

Asian prize!

I just finished a lovely 7-day work week! WOOT! I survived (barely). Yesterday and today I had to go to undoukai or sports day. Definitely not what you'd imagine sports day to be.

Crazy version of a chicken fight is not a real sport.

Tossing bean bags into a basket tied to a stick is not a real sport.

Because my schools have so few students, all of the surrounding neighborhood folk come to sports day to participate. It's like a giant day of picnic games and a relay race.

Old ladies racing to fill up water jugs. Note lady with the cane...hardcore.

But the old people come out to the sports day. Today I learned (from the principal) that the old people come to get the prizes.

This was my winnings from yesterday. From left to right: nori (seaweed), laundry detergent, toilet paper, instant kabocha (pumpkin) soup, and 5 boxes of tissue paper.

Today I won 8 boxes of tissue paper, a bottle of canola oil, 2 travel-size tissue packs, 4 coasters, and a tube of saran wrap.

The principal told me he hasn't bought tissue since he was a kid because of these sports days. I gave 5 boxes of tissue paper to Pegleg because I don't know what to do with 13 boxes of tissue paper (not to mention the ones I already have in my spare room). Now I too will never need to spend another yen on tissue paper.

I used to think it was weird when I played in Asian American golf tournaments and would get a case of Top Ramen, a loaf of Kings Hawaiian Bread, and a sack of rice as a participatory gift. But now I get it. Asian prizes are just practical. Extremely practical prizes. And I'm thankful for the cooking oil, tissue boxes, and toilet paper.