Rollercoaster... of whaa?

After day 1 of school, I was ready to leave Japan. I considered the cons in departing, in having to pay for my ticket home and accepting failure. Teaching? What was I thinking? There's no A/C in the classroom, every student is on their cell phone or sleeping, and my co-teacher is grinning as if it's business as usual. I'm doing a self-introduction lesson three to five times a day (meaning I talk about myself for 50 minutes straight), and I'll be doing it for another two weeks.

I am Kevin's beating heart. Please answer me when I ask if you have a Nintendo DS. Everyone in this country has a DS. Are you no one?

Day 2, in the improperly used words of Jason Kidd, was a complete 360 turnaround. (He was going for 180.) I met up with some JETs after school on Monday, and I asked if they got the same blank stares that I was receiving. I was told to think back to high school Spanish. Did anyone care then? Would anyone care now? I tried to embrace the great times I'd had in the past month, and I took that into school on Day 2. I tried harder to be myself, which is the hardest thing you can do.

And something happened.

The kids perked up. They answered questions. One student, who reminds me of the talk-show host Matthew (seen in Lost In Translation), would inexplicably stand up at random times during class and yell "I ruv Kevin!" (in the talk-show host kind of way).

Another student, in a similar vein, would raise his hand throughout class.
"What is your favorite sport?"
"I love you."
"Who knows why peaches grow in both Yamanashi and Georgia?"
"I love you, Kevin."
Later, I walked by his desk and said, "So you love me, huh?"
He hung his head and smiled.

On Day 3, I went to my other school, Norin High School, which specializes in Agriculture and Horticulture.

The good vibes from day 2 carried on, and I found out that I have a third year (seniors) elective class (meaning they want to be there) two periods in a row. These kids were especially great, and they understood much more. One girl looked exactly like Sara Kim from my 3rd grade, and another one was the Japanese version of Kyle Berkman, Mr. Levitt's friend from LA. I need a picture of this guy. It's uncanny. This class took a special interest in me after I played a song that I wrote, and they wanted a Japanese translation and to know who it was about. This, of course, resulted in my co-teacher asking if it was rude to ask if I was married. Did I have a girlfriend? I was quickly reminded of a story Tyler told me just the day before, of how this line of questioning follows form. 1. Married? 2. Girlfriend? 3. Gay? I thought I would nip this in the bud by answering yes to #2, but that only spurred more questions. Umm, she lives in America. Her name is Art Vandelay.

One of the best things I've heard this month happened here, and that was a student doing an American accent. My accent, to be exact. Do I sound like Clint Eastwood on a ferry headed down the Mississippi?

Today, a very enthusiastic third year student at Nirasaki approached me. His English was quite good, and I am sorry I will not be teaching him (as I only get first and second years). He tried to say "I don't have your class this year," but he ended up saying, "Your class is nothing this year." Domo arigato gozaimasu.

The internet, sorta

Thanks to my lovely neighbors, Priscilla and Chris, I may or may not have the internet in my apartment right now. I may or may not be typing this while I sit in my apartment that may or may not have access to the internet. How they managed to get it set up two weeks before my scheduled installation when they arrived in Japan one week after me, well, I may or may not know. You can now find me on AIM. Just know that I exist 13 hours in the future (for those on the east coast).

On Saturday, I went with a group of friends to see Dragon Park, which is roughly a twenty minute bike ride from my home. It’s all uphill, which makes the ride back quite easy (especially if you just ran around playing soccer for a few hours).

Like many things I have seen in Japan, the facilities are immaculate. Take a look at these badboys. Umm, nix that. The sorta internet is not letting me post pictures. Soon, friends.

We played a few small-sided games, the second one with two high school kids. We later discovered that one of them was on the Ventforet junior squad (the prefecture’s professional team), and he possessed the skills to back it up.

It was a hot day, and the sprinklers and fountains attracted tiny children wearing only underwear.

At night, we went out to Kiyosato, a mountainous area to the northwest of Ryuo. It’s at least 10 degrees cooler out there, and we had a lovely hamburger and pasta dinner at a café called Back Country, which we have renamed Bat Country as a tribute to general humor and Hunter S. Thompson.

We went to Tyler’s apartment for some chit-chat, and Tiffany drank sake from juice boxes and ate ice cream with chopsticks.

Let me clear my throat

I'm currently watching a group of students play rock, paper, scissors to decide who will have to eat the licorice jelly beans in the batch that I brought. It is hilarious. One student cringes as the flavor hits his tongue. It is possible this student has never tasted licorice before. His classmates laugh. More gather around.

This morning, I gave a speech to the whole school. I will be teaching 1st and 2nd years (sophomores and juniors in high school), and there are already 360 of those. I guess I spoke to 500 people? Massive. The first half of my speech was in Japanese, and the second was in English and translated by Kagami sensei. I've mentioned this before, but there isn't sarcasm in Japan. I am unarmed in this battle of wits.

After the speech, the teachers examined each and every student for haircut regulations. Your entire ear must be showing, and your hair cannot grow beyond your eyebrows. I would venture to say that more than half of the students were in violation, as they just returned from a one-month vacation. Still, each student seemed to fuss with his hair in order to fudge the requirement. One student gave me the thumbs-up, pointed to his hair, and told me to say "Good job," as if this would save him from the shears. Teachers held clipboards with columns and check marks. Kagami sensei asked about dress-codes in the States and cited this as a reason for some students wanting to move across the Pacific. So far, the two things I miss about America are the trash cans (they hide here) and the napkins (ditto).

I will teach my first three lessons on Monday, with a teacher I have yet to meet. I am not sure how this will work synergy-wise, but I suppose synergy is a lofty demand. If I get out alive, it will be a great day.

I have created a crossword puzzle filled with fun facts about myself. Did you know that I was born in Detroit? I often forget.

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Random info: I never realized how often I clean my glasses until I started wearing collared shirts to work. Try wiping away the smudges with your shirt tucked in.

Football is football

On Monday night, I got my first taste of Japanese soccer. Irish Dave invited himself to the prefectural team practice, and I, in turn, invited myself. Kentucky Chris, also known as the Governor for his political ambitions, rounded out the new male ALTs, while British Becks (what a soccer name!) and Jamaican Ayesha represented the women.

There are two tournaments a year held in Nagano for the JET teams, but there are weekly practices and games here and there. Over the years, the Yamanashi crew has made a bunch of Japanese friends, so the majority of people who showed up were not ALTs. Sports and extracurricular activities are highly valued in the Japanese school system, so it’s easy to find some quality talent.

As this was my first experience with soccer in Japan, it was also the first time meeting South American Japanese people. Peruvian, to be exact. They speak Japanese. They speak Spanish. They speak English. They are good at soccer. The game is the same everywhere. This might be the simplest way to learn Japanese.

We rented out a nearby high school field for $2 a person, but the best part is that you can play under the lights. I haven’t done this since high school, and I forgot just how nice it is to play in a breeze without the sun. No offense, sun. I still have a crush on you.
Since there was a large turnout, we split into three teams and played 10 minute games on small goals. The pace was quick (as there was little grass), and everyone out there had some fancy moves on display.

Thinking back a bit, I wrote a college application essay on the universality of soccer. It’s possible I was pulling crap out of crapola back then, but this was words in action. The game is the same everywhere. I missed a lot of easy shots and I nutmegged the keeper, and we all spoke without words. I cut up my leg and bandaged it with a cotton ball and a rubber band. People said it would take away circulation, and I argued citing low elasticity.

I think they liked me, they really liked me, because I was asked to swing around next week. I might. I just might.

With our powers combined

On Monday and Tuesday of this past week, we gathered in Kofu for our local orientation. Groups A and B have finally combined into one supergroup, which is much less glamorous than it sounds. As a collective, we are still very much running around sans head. In other words, we’re more Audioslave, less Justice League.

First order of business was a meeting with the vice governor of the prefecture. He said many things we did not understand, but we benefited from translation courtesy of one Jonathan Smith. If you can come up with a better name than John Smith for an American CIR (Coordinator of International Relations), I will buy you two Cokes. He plays bossa nova piano.

One line from the vice governor that stuck out was when he called Yamanashi the kingdom of fruit. You could sense a group smirk among the ALTs, and the joke continued with imagined tales of pineapple kings and queens. And by continue, I mean we’re still talking about it. It’s been a week.

Since Yamanashi is famous for its fruits and wines, what better place to visit than Fruits Park (where we investigated this so-called patriarchy of fruit). Little evidence was found, but I did eat a grape popsicle in a gift shop. Others purchased wine. Oddly, there was no actual fruit available.

Finally, we went on a guided tour of the prefectural museum. Almost everything was in Japanese, but I got the gist. People once did things one way, and it was tough. We should remember the old days since it is easier now. There were a few interactive simulations of the ways of yore, and a tiny Japanese girl walked into a small hut with long, horizontal poles on each side. Her parents hoisted her up in the air on their shoulders. Japanese children are ridonculous.

Everyone was put up in the Wel City Hotel in downtown Kofu, so karaoke commenced shortly after dinner. Not too much to report there, but Canadian Nick did leave the spot with his necktie around his forehead. Very Davy Crocket chic.

Wednesday:

Lisa Tauber from Americatown visited. We walked around hot, hot Kofu and drank lots of cold, cold water.

At night, we attended Kagami sensei’s son’s rock concert, or live, as it is known around here. The whole ride over, she insisted the band was still learning and the music had a long way to go. The music was amazing; a lot of shredding, piercing riffs mixed with a ballad here and there. A few days before the show, I gave Kagami sensei a copy of the few tracks I recorded in college with Mr. Levin and Mr. Levitt aka Rob Fleming’s Ghost. Her very ecstatic son greeted me and said: “You have the best music.” Hyperbole. Her son, 17, had a great stage presence, so I called him a rock star after the show. I think it translates. On the ride home, I asked Kagami sensei if her son had a lot of girlfriends. He had one recently, but due to the girl being very smart, she told him to wait a year while she gets through her studies. Kagami sensei said he probably will not wait.

Random bits from here and there:

Bikes in Japan use a different pumping valve. In an attempt to add a little air to my front tire, I deflated the entire thing. The pump I have doesn’t seem to work, so I took the bike back to the shop. The nice man seemed quite perplexed that I had a flat tire that wasn’t punctured. He made a circle with his thumb and index on one hand and pointed his other index finger into the circle. This, undoubtedly, is the international symbol for a punctured tire.

Everyone in this country has a Nintendo DS. I always do what other people do, so I ordered one off Amazon.co.jp. I now have a note that I believe says I missed delivery. I have no idea how to read this note. I will find a translator tomorrow.

Tokyo Drifting

What better way to spend a Saturday than to take the bus into Tokyo. A round trip ticket costs $36, and the ride is very similar to how I used to get up to New York from Philly. Roughly two hours on a charter bus. Heavy traffic entering the city a la the Lincoln Tunnel. A reclining chair.

We (Tiffany, Amanda, Seth — a feller from Cherry Hill, NJ, so we know much of the same sites and sights back West) got there around noon, so we grabbed a bite to eat in Shinjuku. The aroma of restaurants often creeps into the city streets, and I often follow my nose. Here’s a photo of the meal:


The orange soupy substance was left untouched after one sip, as the texture resembled, um, snot. The flavor was fine.

We wandered into an underground store labeled BATTLE ARENA. As we were certain this could only be something amazing, we traversed those downward steps without hesitation. Below, we discovered the battle arena, where various arcade fighting games were set up. You can watch the featured game on a big screen, so we watched. The red Transformeresque character defeated the blue one by shooting a series of lasers and rockets. A kid raised his arms and shouted with great glee.

Afterward, we got on the subway to visit Harajuku, the fashion-conscience area popularized in the States by one Gwenavere Stefani. In the two orientations we had back in Atlanta, former ALTs mentioned the conservative dress we’d surely encounter in Japan. This did not hold true in Harajuku. In fact, this hasn’t held true anywhere. When girls go out, they get their hair did. Harajuku was less hipster, more Park Ave than I had imagined, and I picked up a few shirts that fit me. We walked into “Snoopy Land,” and the sign was correct. That’s a lot of Snoopy-related paraphernalia.

We walked down to Shibuya, and one intersection closely resembled Times Square. Lots of people crossing the street at the same time. Lots of people, including us, taking pictures of people crossing the street at the same time.

We hopped on the subway again, hoping to reach Ripponge Hills, where the famous Mori Tower stands. We didn’t quite get there on the first try, but a quick cab ride sealed the deal. From the top of Mori Tower, you can get a panoramic view of Tokyo. Here is a non-panoramic view of Tokyo:

Finally, we headed back to Shinjuku to catch a bus back to Kofu. We reserved our seats and went to the nearby Keio Plaza for dinner. We left the restaurant at 8:21, thinking that would be plenty of time to catch the 8:30 bus outside. The only hitch came when we exited the elevator and had no idea where we were. We also couldn’t find an exit as each exit sign led to more exit signs and no exits. When we finally got outside, it was 8:24, but we still had no idea which side of the Keio we were on. There was running. Lots. There was running in the wrong direction. Tiffany got to the bus at 8:30. She stalled. Somehow.

Back in Kofu, the group B welcome party was taking place, so we met up at the Rink, another bar keen to foreignors. There was singing. There was guitaring. I got the inside dirt on so and so and who and who. So and so likes so. We first thought so and so was gay. Who and who used to date who. I think they still like each other. Here are some peeps:

A few friends crashed at my pad as it was the nearest domicile with space. (Because of the different train lines and locations, some people have to leave Kofu around 8:30 pm in order to get home. We combat this by opening up our doors and laying down our futons.)

Before resting our heads, we walked through the drive-through of McDonalds. It seemed to be the first day of the guy working, so in addition to the language barrier, he didn’t know how to work the machine once we conveyed our orders. Classic. He was a super nice guy, and Irish Dave told him this in Japanese. I bowed.

Hello, hello

I just delivered the first of many self-introduction speeches. I knew I would be meeting all the teachers today, but I only knew of the speech about three minutes before takeoff. It went well, I think.

Here's a paraphrased transcript:

(All in Japanese, mind you.)

"Good morning. My name is Kevin Lo. I am American. I don't understand Japanese *laughter*, but I understand English well *more laughter*."

I then said a few things in English that Kasai sensei (baseball manager and one of the teachers I'll be working with) translated, and I finished it all off with a Japanese phrase that sorta means "Nice to meet you," "I hope we have a nice friendship," and various other things. In Japanese, many phrases can mean a variety of things. Sumimasen, for instance, is used in almost every circumstance. It can mean "I'm sorry" and "Excuse me." It can be randomly thrown into speech, and it's often but not always used by anyone working in a store when you walk in or walk by them.

Just a few minutes ago, a teacher walked up to me and said, "Speech. Ema." Ema means now, and he wanted me to follow him to the assembly hall. There were a lot of people in this assembly hall, and I was previously told I'd give a speech to the students a week from now. I thought I was going to be doing this right now (!) instead, but Kasai sensei was there to say otherwise. It was a speech by the principal and other administrators.

I just left a tin can of jelly beans in the teacher's room. I will see how many are left on Monday.