Orian in Leotard by Masami Teraoka

Warning: The following passages came straight out of my journal during a time when I was experiencing some culture shock here in Japan. If it seems negative, that's because it was. Things are better now (see January).

Customer Service
They delivered my stereo today. They took it out of the box, unpacked everything, put batteries in the remote control, connected all the necessary wires, plugged it in, and tested it. I stood by watching in total disbelief. Should I offer them some orange Fanta? Should I thank them profusely while they labor for me on their knees? Should I try to help? I'm not used to receiving such generosity.

Ocean Dome
So we experienced the Ocean Dome. I felt as if I had died and gone to some sort of strange purgatory. We swam in a fake ocean and lounged on a fake beach with bits of quartz pebbles for sand. We slid down a fake volcano and later watched it erupt. We saw a sort of IMAX film about a fantasy ghost ride around the moon on a mystery train bound for nowhere. We went to Turton Land and Brian threw a fake hissy fit when we had to leave. I thought it was hilarious. We ate at the cafeteria and I couldn't distinguish the lacquered displays of food from the real food. Fake ice in the freezer, fake fruit, fake purple cakes. Fake bird sounds, fake breezes, fake sunshine, … we had a very fake, very good time. We stayed up until 2 a.m. that night in the hostel talking about all sorts of things. It was good.

The Typhoon Is Here
We've got our first real typhoon of the year. The Internet is painfully slow and the lights have gone out once or twice. I have spent all day in the office, studying Japanese, making a bingo game for Halloween. I have no flashlight, no candles, no nothin'. There's a strong possibility that I'll spend the majority of tonight in complete and total darkness.

Mucho Rain-o
I rode my bike to Naze Junior High School this morning - in the rain. I had my umbrella with me and I tried to use it while steering the bike with one hand, veering all over the sidewalk, nearly knocking over schoolchildren and then finally colliding with a stone wall, soiling my trousers and embarrassing the hell out of myself in the process. When I finally made it to school, I dropped the bike on my toes.

It rained all day. It rained hard. The roof began to leak and the sidewalks began to flood. I thought it would never subside. And then, as if by a miracle, it cleared up just in time for me to ride my bike back home.

Last night, I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to find the floor shaking beneath my futon. In my sleep-altered state of mind, I couldn't figure out what was causing the shaking. Was someone downstairs making the floor shake? What were they doing to make the floor shake like that? I fell right back to sleep after it stopped. In the morning, I realized I had experienced my first tremor here in Japan.

I had four classes today at Naze Junior High School, if you count the one I was dismissed from. One of my teachers gave a short quiz and then berated the class for about 20 minutes in rapid-fire Japanese while I stood by and fidgeted with my ring, understanding little besides "san pun" (because he repeated it about 20 times with great emphasis) and "Kaneku"… it felt like he was giving them some sort of guilt trip over being an inferior school. In the midst of his tirade, while everyone was silent and listening morosely to his rantings, I dropped my silver ring on the floor. It made a loud clanging noise on the concrete and broke everyone's concentration, then rolled under a student's desk. After his speech, he told me I was free to leave the class.

Alex Ferreira, a Kagoshima CIR, called me at the office today and informed me that a transfer to the mainland would be impossible. "This is impossible", she said sadly in her Portuguese-accented English. The finality of her tone made me want to cry. I said thank you and hung up, sat down at my desk in a slump, despondently began correcting a student's speech entitled "My Little Happiness". His little happiness turned out to be afternoon chats with his grandmother about the old days on Amami Island. I changed the title to "Simple Pleasures". Maybe that was too cliché. Maybe I should have left it as it was. The essay asked rhetorically, "What is your little happiness?" Maybe I should contemplate that question more often if I am to remain sane on this island.

Just now, a man's voice reverberates through a loudspeaker and circles the streets around my apartment. He's saying something unintelligible in Japanese while a Samba-sounding melody plays in the background. It's absolutely deafening. My thought is, "Shut the f*** UP!" What the f*** could be the purpose of that unholy s***?" The Japanese seem to have no problem whatsoever with invading others' personal space, and that includes listening space. At certain times of the day, one is veritably forced to listen to some jackass shouting over a loudspeaker, or someone screaming about selling sweets, or tinny music at 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. every day, and a woman's deafening voice announcing the time and date in Japanese.

School Visit
My entire office (nearly) visited Naze Jr. High today. They stopped in to observe one of my and Shigetome-sensei's class. I'm fascinated by her features… her head is so oval, like a little chestnut. Her black hair contrasts with a fair complexion and soft brown eyes. Her eyelashes frequently have traces of eye shadow powder on them. She has an overbite, as do many Japanese. She wears several bobby pins in her hair to keep it back. She looks like a little Japanese doll. Very cute. She's very sweet. She was asking me what I did on the weekends. When I returned the question, she said that she normally worked on the weekends. She said she usually stayed at school until 7 or 8 p.m. Insanity.

One of my teachers won't allow her skin to come in contact with sunlight. When driving a car, she wears huge sleeves that cover her arms and hands, a handkerchief around her neck, and a large hat.

Basically, I find myself getting into the groove of things, adjusting to my job. Most of the time, I just show up to class and do whatever the JTE asks me to do. I find myself saying words in English and having the class repeat after me, reading dialogue with the JTE, walking around the classroom and checking students' worksheets, giving 5 minute speeches about how I spent my weekend. Today, I found myself quite bored. I know that the students can tell that I am bored, too. I'm not bored every day. Today, I was a bit spaced out, maybe. I find, though, that if there's not something new and exciting going on, I'm not all that excited about being in the class. Anyway, this is just my first year. And will I stay for a second? I must give that some thought. If I don't stay, what will I do? Good question. Go back to work in a library? I think not. Then what? That's the question. How can I already be thinking "What's next?" when I've only been here for 3 months?

Misery Loves Reading Books on Buses
Today, I must confess, in spite of much effort, I am thoroughly miserable. I was at Koshuku Jr High today, only had to teach 3 classes… 1st, 2nd and 3rd year students. The first class went o.k., but the second was horrible and the last one was worse. Between classes, I sat in the teacher's room, writing letters on fun stationery about my state of misery. I put stickers on the letters and envelopes. Some students and I talked about how cute the stationery was. I ate kyushoku with 2-2. The teacher insisted that I sit with 2 other girls who were engaged in some sort of urgent, whispered talk… as soon as I sat down, they went silent and didn't say another word for the entire time I sat there. I thought to myself, if they expect me to try to start up some inane conversation with them in English while they giggle behind their handtowels, they've got another f***ing thing coming. They can just sit there and say nothing. I got up and put my tray away before lunchtime was over. I thought I saw a look of disappointment in the teacher's face. I excused myself and went back to my desk to return to my letter writing. At recess, I walked out to the bus stop to check the bus schedule. I am so sick of Japanese people expecting, waiting for me to draw them out of their shyness. What if I don't want to? Is it o.k. if I really don't feel like it? I'm sick of Japanese teachers pushing me to draw the students out. What if I don't want to draw them out? Is that o.k.? What if I don't want to always be the one to start a conversation. Is my job to constantly go around every day making conversation with people in a language I barely know and then standing by helplessly as they laugh at the way I use Japanese?