You Can Dance If You Want To

"Man, you're like school in the summertime. No class,"
-- Rudy, Fat Albert.

Lets Larry King this one …

I just returned from an intense study session with Hikaru, a third-year student at Akita Technical High School, who is trying to get into Akita International University, where the application process consists of a 90-minute essay and an oral interview, all in English. If he doesn’t pass, I’ll feel pretty low, but he’ll be crushed. The boy is beyond stressed. My supervisor fears he is getting a permanent crease between his eyebrows. I told her its just acne.

In many ways, Hikaru is at a significant disadvantage, particularly coming from a technical school, where English ranks just below Home Ec. in terms of importance. For example, at Tricia’s loddy-da all-girls school, where they enjoy catered meals and therapeutic massages, interview questions from previous years are all on file (not sample questions, but the ACTUAL questions). At Akita Tech, where we warm ourselves with Bic lighters, the only thing we have on file are discipline reports.

Thankfully, we have Tricia on our side. It took some coaxing, but she cut short her afternoon soak in the on-campus onsen to copy off the questions for us. Hopefully, they’ll help.

It’s a ridiculous myth that all – or even most – of Japanese students are hard-working, studious and respectful. Particularly at the technical, boy-heavy schools, students more often are obnoxious, indifferent or asleep, particularly when it comes to English. I find it hard to blame them. For many of these students, their future is more or less cast once they enter high school. They’ll work in factories and for auto manufacturers – and make a very respectable wage (more than a teacher), according to one of my co-workers. This can be depressing when you’re the one teaching them English, yet you do your best, and typically, at least a handful of the students are into what you’re doing, and for those dozing, at least you can have fun bouncing coins off their heads.

…

Last week, I played in a teacher-vs.-teacher baseball game. I was more than a little rusty, which was obvious when I warmed up, yet the manager insisted I pitch, even though I pleaded with him to play me anywhere else, and chucked a few throws over the fence to drive home the point (even when I played baseball, some 15 years ago, I never pitched, as I’m quite wild, like Nuke Laloosh, but without the good stuff, and less command). When I finally conceded, I asked one of the English teachers whether I should just toss it in there, or really let loose. He said, “This is a serious game. Play serious.” I tried, and I was seriously awful. I walked the first batter. Nearly hit the second. Walked the third. And gave up a pop fly to the fourth, which was dropped. That’s when I walked off the mound, insisting I play somewhere else. They put me at catcher, where I did reasonably well (every time I made a nifty stop, the coach yelled, “Good catcher! Good catcher!” I’m certain he was mocking me). At the plate, I was so-so, as the Japanese say. I walked twice, fouled a few off, and struck out. I later found out that their pitcher played in college, as did our manager. It’s almost a week later, and my legs are still recovering. So is my pride.

…

Saturday night, we went to my good friend and coworker Nomi’s (know-me) house for dinner. We had a blast, yet we forgot the camera, so you’ll have to take my word for it. Nomi, who teaches science, lived in America for a year, and met his wife at graduate school there, so they both know English very well. They have two kids, a four-year-old boy and a girl, Nene, seven. Jonas loved it there, and after some sake (for us, not Jonas), Nomi kept saying, “Every weekend, you’ll come here. Every weekend!” His wife, Mie, who did all the cooking, was noticeably silent. We’re going to try and have them over for a Thanksgiving-esk meal.

The great thing about Nomi is that he has a tremendous sense of humor and loves to curse, which I find hilarious. Late in the evening, either when Jonas tried to eat a lump of clay, or when his son was bonking Jonas on the head with an inflatable bat, Nomi blurts out, “Maybe he’s f-cked up. Maybe he’s just f-cked up.” (Tricia won’t let me curse here). It wasn’t clear who he meant. He also tried to convince Tricia that his seven-year-old daughter could handle watching Jonas and his boy upstairs, alone, while we all went down stairs and drank more sake (Tricia overruled this). And later, when Jonas was dancing on top of a coffee table in the adjoining room, he said, “Don’t worry. If he falls and is hurt, we will hear him cry. And then we will know.” I agree. Let the boy dance.

Ikebana exhibit

One of my JTEs (Japanese Teacher of English) gave me tickets to an Ikebana exhibit, because her work was part of the show. Jonas and I went to see the exhibit today. Ikebana is the Japanese art of flower arrangement and it is quite beautiful. There is a scene in Lost in Translation where Charlotte walks into a room of women practicing Ikebana. At one of my schools, there is always a flower arrangement in the women's bathroom outside the teacher's room. It is always beautiful and simple. Just a few different flowers, plants or twigs.

This was arranged by the JTE who gave me the tickets.


Jonas was more interested in the chairs.


If you are interested in seeing a few more pictures, click below.

For Mature Audiences Only

Tricia is in bed (or in futon, rather), so I thought I'd use this opportunity to post the two questionable paintings that were -- at least from a student perspective -- unfairly barred from participating in last weekend's art contest. The whole scene was odd. The homeroom teachers, at the very least, had to have known what was up, yet they allowed the paintings into the gymnasium for the big ceremonial unveiling, only to order them right back out again after the, um, tarp was dropped. This gave the offending students an even brighter spotlight, and let me tell you, they enjoyed it.

I'm just guessing here, but I think the baseline criteria for the competition was to come up with a design that best represents the students at Akita Tech.

It's hard to get any more accurate than this.

It's a Festivus

We spent a sunny Sunday afternoon at my school's festival (one of the few sunny days we've had recently. as people love to tell us, Akita has the highest suicide rate in all of Japan -- for 11 straight years. "Winter in Akita, no sun," Sasaki sensei likes to say). The students spent Friday and Saturday preparing for the big day, which for some reason, featured a lot of cross-dressing.

Then main event on Saturday was an art competition (a workday for me. ostensibly, i get Sunday and Monday off, but like I said, Sunday we were at school for the festival, and Monday I'm playing in an inter-teacher baseball game, and later, a teacher drinking party). Each home room spent an afternoon on these, and they were pretty amazing, in my opinion. I was one of the judges for the competition, and below is the painting I voted for. It didn't win.

Neither did this one, yet I like it. I'm not sure why the kids decided to paint Arnold, but I thought it was a pretty good 80s likeness.

This one did win, and I nearly voted for it. There was a complicated story behind the creation of it, which I didn't understand. The little guy in the corner holding up the peace sign teaches mechanical engineering, and apparently, is very will liked by the students.

These two were left over from previous years.


Two other paintings (not pictured) were ceremoniously booted out of the competition. There was was a real buzz surrounding them before the judging took place, and when they were unveiled, I realized why. Due to their graphic content, Tricia has forbidden me from posting them on our blog. I did manage to snap shots of each with my phone, though, and when Tricia isn't looking, I'll throw them up here. They're actually not that bad. Most of the teachers were laughing, and even the principal managed a smile. In fact, the biggest controversy was that I used my cell phone to take pictures of them during the unveiling. Cell phones are forbidden, even during a festival, apparently. My supervisor kindly told me I needed to put it away, then added, "Don't worry. No one will care. They understand why you would be interested in these paintings."

These guys were selling curry. I asked them if they made it. They said yes. I said, no thanks.

This girl (name forgotten) always tries to talk to me, I think, because she's in the brass band, and I told her that I knew how to play the trumpet. We also both like Radiohead.


Jonas loved these girls dressed as Pokemon and Poo. They were very sweet. And short.




So students at this school study all sorts of engineering, computers, drafting, architecture. It reaffirms, for me, that we seriously need to rethink education in America. This is the positive side of tracking, in my opinion. In addition to academic classes, students here work on projects in whatever field they're interested. Below is a solar-powered car built by a student I'm trying to help get into Akita International University, where all the classes are taught in English. It's a prestigious school, and I really hope he makes it. He works unbelievably hard.




And finally, a video of little Jonas, playing in a puddle.

Chuo 35, Akita Kogyo 10

The Akita rugby title match was held over the weekend (like a state championship in the states), with the winner moving on to the nationals in late December in Osaka (I think). This is a very big deal. Two of my four schools, Akita Kogyo (my base school) and Chuo (which I visit every Tuesday) faced off in the final, so obviously, I went and cheered for both squads. It was tied 3-3 at the half, but Chuo blew things up in the second. They clearly were the stronger team. I spent one half with the Chuo students and teachers, and the second half with the Akita Kogyo crew, as not to show any favoritism. As one teacher said, “Jason, you are a winner, and you are a loser.” Don’t I know it.

Backing up to the semifinal, though … Chuo advanced by sort-of defeating yet another one of my schools, Oga Kogyo (Kogyo meaning technical, which means a lot of these kids go on to be mechanics, auto workers and machinists – which might lead you to think, “Oh, they’re brutes, so no surprise they’d be good at such a rough and tumble sport.” Yet, Chuo is either the second- or third-best academic high school in the entire prefecture, depending on whom you ask. So go figure).

Anyway, Chuo didn’t actually beat Oga. They tied. And, as I understand it, instead of playing into the night until one team scored the decisive whatever it’s called in rugby, they simply stopped play at the end of the clock and called the game even. The winner was decided by pulling a name out of a hat (or as my co-teacher put it, the winner was chosen by fortune). The official drew Chuo, so Chuo wins; Oga loses, its season finished. By itself, this is pretty cruel. But, what really has people blue: this is the final season for Oga’s coach. He’s retiring. Oga has never made the national tournament, and the consensus seems to be that they would have easily handled Akita Kogyo in the title game. So I guess you could say fortune was unkind to Oga.
Or as B-san said to me, “That f---ing sucks, you know?”

And consider this: B-san said Chuo expects donations from alumni and parents to exceed 80 million yen, or about $700,000. That seemed unbelievable to me. So I asked him again, and he said, yes, 80 million yen. My friend Ishii at Oga confirmed the figure, and said that Oga would have received a similar, though somewhat smaller, windfall. It’s the first trip to the finals for Chuo in 41 years. Oga has never been. What drama.
I wondered how the kids were holding up, seeing that some teachers were still moping about a week later. Ishii claimed the students were totally fine, saying that Rugby is a sport played by gentleman, and that rules are rules, and everybody understands and accepts this, and that the team is judged not by the final score, but by how honorable they play -- and most importantly, how graciously they handle the outcome. I asked a few of the kids, and indeed, they seemed OK (although, I have my doubts they understood exactly what I was asking. Japanese kids are savvy, and they’ve learned over the years to answer any question they don’t totally understand with a “Yeeeessss,” or just as often, “Okaaay.”).

I’m not so sure. Either way, I am enjoying the win, and suffering through the loss. My friend B-san says that, of course, he’s going with the team and students to cheer Chuo on in the finals (he begins most of his sentences with, “Of course,” which often adds real intrigue to straightforward statements such as, “Of course, I’m fine,” and “Of course, I brought my lunch”). I wondered whether I could tag along for the trip, and he said he’d put in a good word for me. I also asked if there would be limited space, thinking that most of the teachers would want to be on hand for such a historic event.
“Of course not,” he said. “No one will want to go. They will be on a bus with kids for over 12 hours. It will be just like work!”

(my mild-mannered supervisor at Chuo. I've never seen her so animated)

(these girls claimed to be the source of Chuo's inspiration.)

Before the big match, the students at Akita Kogyo practiced their cheers for a very long time. I stayed for about 30 minutes, then took off (it was Saturday). I asked one of the teachers how much longer they would rehearse. "Who knows. Maybe 15 minutes," he said. "Maybe another hour."

Jonas was Dances with Children

Our favorite daycare worker has either moved on to bigger and better things, or is simply on vacation. Either way, she is missed. We have a little notebook that we send with Jonas to daycare each day detailing what he ate for breakfast, when he woke up, his views on global warming, etc. At the end of each day, she would write a little message in English about his day. They were very sweet, and sadly, they have been missing the last week. Obviously, part of their humor lies in the broken syntax; yet, I wouldn't want anyone to think we were having a laugh at her expense. She put a lot of work into these messages, and they are, for us, comforting. There is a real sweetness to each message, and like I said, if she is gone, she will be missed.

Home Sick

Jonas and I are sick today. To borrow a phrase from my supervisor, Jonas "caught the fever," and was in rough shape last night. He sweat like a madman this afternoon during a four-hour nap, and now he's good as new. If only we all could rebound so easily. Spent the weekend in Yuzawa at Mary Ellen and Andrew's place. Andrew and Jason went to a bar to celebrate some dude's birthday, and Tricia, Mary Ellen (and Jonas) stayed in for a movie and popcorn. Jonas was on the cranky side for part of the weekend, as was Jason. Now we know why (no cracks about Jason being cranky ALL the time).

Contemporary. Traditional. Jason.

After an onsen, one of the proprieters (who Mary Ellen and Andrew) know
had the kitchen fix us some dinner. Delicious.

Everyone paused for one picture, then back to eating.

The power water of Yuzawa. Jonas was more interested in jumping in than drinking.