I wanna dance like Michael Jackson...

A few days ago, I was standing at the front of a classroom, waiting for the kids to push their desks into their lunch groups. T-kun's desk was cluttered with papers, as he was busy doing something else.

Moonwalking.

He caught me staring and laughing at him. He flashed me a smile, and then moonwalked away.

Honestly, who does that?! My kids are the best.

Liminal space

I often have to remind myself that despite living in Japan, which often induces whimsical airs, life goes on back home.

What's my current definition of "home." Well, I guess it's a pretty fluid idea right now. On the one hand, it's where I have a new niece, who apparently pumps the air with her adorable little fists as she wears a superhero costume. It's where my parents have just wrapped up a lengthy vacation in the States. It's where my brother is achieving a good balance between school and social spheres. It's where my godson, nieces and nephews are growing up, probably wondering who exactly is Auntie Gem.

My second home would have be the little nest I've made in the Japanese countryside. This is the place where kids will ring my doorbell, hoping to play with "Gemma-sensei." Here, my car, which drives like a really nice lawnmower, travels at a comfortable speed of 60 km/h. And just today, a sturdy brown cow escaped my neighbourhood's stables where it was being "appraised."In fact, the cow ran alongside my school's soccer field during second period. The entire school stood at the windows, as we watched the farmers madly chase the fugitive. (The cow managed to dash across rice fields and our soccer field. It then went up the hills of Motomiya, where one of the farmers finally caught him.) My JTE chuckled, and said "Well, did you see the running beef? It looked delicious."

I digress. So, I've collected all of these funny anecdotes from living in Japan. But sometimes, reality hits you. I've realized some pretty epic - both good and bad - things have happened back home in Canada. I'm still learning how to live through this liminal space between home and home.

Navigating through Nikko 日光

Being in Japan has brought my travel guidebooks to life. I'm really blessed to see those pages come to life as I explore my surroundings. I remember picking up a copy of the Lonely Planet guidebook about Japan at my local Chapters bookstore back home. The telltale blue spine holds hundreds of pages that have inspired several of my travels around Japan. Most recently, I was drawn to Nikko. (My first-year students had their big school trip to Nikko in the fall. Their posters helped elicit my interest in going to Nikko in the fall/winter, as I knew the leaves would be changing colours. Just like back home!) Seeing Nikko was nice. I saw the trees brushed with different hues of oranges and reds, which reminded me of the autumn colours back home.

The Lonely Planet tempts visions of a small temple-ridden town, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo: "The path from Tōshōgu to Futarasan-Jinja may very well be the Japan you’ve dreamt of. On your left, years (decades? centuries?) of moss cling to a stone wall, while to the right are dozens of stone lanterns in precise alignment, framed with aching perfection by a vermillion wall and towering cedars."

My overnight trip to Nikko began on a crisp Monday morning - I had taken a day off school, since we also had a national holiday on Tuesday. I decided to make this a solo journey, since I was really itching to see the leaves changing colour in Nikko; and I didn't feel like asking others to take a day off work for this sort trip. So, I started my journey by hopping into a cab bound for my local train. One shink (bullet train) ride and one JR Nikko train ride later, I was busy shielding myself from the harsh rains in Nikko.

I was cold, wet and hungry. One of my friends, G., had mentioned a darling restaurant tucked away on the main street near the sacred bridge. I found Hippari Dako, known for its delicious set meals. But mostly, its walls are the big attraction. Over the years, travellers have enjoyed leaving their notes of appreciation tacked on the wall of this tiny dining establishment. Business cards, old receipts, postcards - people have used any scrap of paper to leave their mark. I folded a piece of A4 lined paper into an origami heart, and scrawled a quick message in English and simple Japanese. But now recall that I added an extra "k" in "Hippari Dako!" Oops. The ladies working in the kitchen were soft-spoken, but were very kind. The cook came out, and we quickly perused the newspaper together - she noted that my trip might be marred by the sustained downpour. Boo!

The three-table restaurant had only one other diner while I was there. I was trying not to stare, as he set up his tripod around the floor so he could take pictures of himself. Not once, not twice... but three times! Turns out he was visiting Nikko for the afternoon. Alex was a Malaysian dude, who now lives in Singapore. He tried to teach me some Malay, but I can't remember the words right now...

My next stop was the woodlands filled with shrines and temples, specifically: the Toshogu, Rinnoji and Futarasan. I was mostly excited to see the carving of the infamous monkeys. You know, the ones who "hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil." But my friends warned me to lower my enthusiasm. As it turns out, the monkeys aren't very big and are simply carved into the sacred horse stable. But it was still pretty cool to see such a symbol! The Shinkyo Bridge, which is an oft-photographed sacred red bridge in Japan, arches over the Daiyagawa River. You can only walk across it after paying a small fee. I didn't. Like most tourists, I got my shot from the bridge parallel to it.

At night, I strolled past my hotel and went over to the Kanmangafuchi Abyss. This is where dozens and dozens of "jizo" protector statues line the side of a hill near the river. Wearing bright hats and bibs, these small stone statues represent the Buddhist protector of travellers and children. Then, I retreated back to my hotel where I feasted over beef sukiyaki. It was kindly prepared by the couple that runs the Turtle Inn. It was dericious. There was another hotel guest in the dining room, so I sat with her. She was a sixtysomething lady who really enjoyed talking about herself, haha. But she did notice that I am in the midst of reading "Eat, Pray and Love." Nancy mentioned she stayed at the same unnamed ashram the writer visited whilst in India.

The next day, I went up to the neighbouring Lake Chuzenji area. I travelled by bus, which had to go up Irohazaka. This is a major winding road, complete with tons of hairpin curves, to bring you up to the lake. I'm sure it would be amazing, but ridiculously dangerous, to drift your car on that road. I saw a motorcyclist overtake our bus, and swiftly weave down the road. When I got to my destination somewhere in the mountainous terrain, I headed over to see one of Japan's "three highest waterfalls." Kegon Waterfalls stands proudly at 97 metres. I took an elevator to its base, so that I could admire its full length. Apparently, the Kegon Waterfalls is notorious as a suicide spot. Eerie...

On my taxi cab ride back to the Nikko Stn., I struck up a conversation with my driver. (This is becoming a trend... making friends with my cabbies. ha). Anyways, he was excited to use his broken English with me. When he dropped me off, he handed me his business card and invited me to his family's home. He says his wife and three kids would be delighted to have me over. :/ Ummm... Thanks, but no thanks?!

Who's gonna run this town tonight? (or "-ken this year").

YoVilla emerged victorious after the FuJET elections last spring. The campaign period was hilarious, in that JAlex and YoVilla actually had videos to hype ourselves amongst the masses. And we both made efforts to make appearances at parties to "network" and win votes from people.

Now, I'm the Vice Pres overseeing events and group trips for my fellow Fuku JETs. It's very much similar to studco back in high school. I cannot lie - it has been a lot of work, but I always get the warm fuzzies when my noobs express their gratitude. It was weird to hear them joke around, and call me "mother hen" or "Gemma-oneechan" ('oneechan' is a term of endearment for one's older sister). This is mildly awkward to hear, because I'm still learning my footing in this foreign country. Also, my Japanese is still at the beginner level; this year, surprisingly, most of the incoming JETs came to Japan with some background in the Japanese language.

So far, being VP has consumed a lot of my time and money. Tokyo Orientation was pre You see, the prefectural board let Mateo and I head down to Tokyo Orientation to meet and greet. We also sold Kanji Survival Guides to help make money for our group.

Like I've already mentioned, I've had to make some sacrifices for the greater good of FuJET. In the summer, M. and I went down to Tokyo to meet our new arrivals. We then took the bus back up with them. I knew my supervisor was too busy to pick me up from the agriculture centre, where the noobs were scheduled to have their introductory meetings in Fuku.

The solution? The chartered bus kindly dropped me off at the expressway's exit. Dressed in my business attire, I lugged my carry-on baggage down Route 4. It took a good hour. True, I could've called a taxi... but I wasn't sure how to say in Japanese: "Hello, can you pick me up from the expressway's exit? There isn't exactly a place to stop, I'll just jump in. OK?"

I've realized that Mateo and I have completely different leadership strategies. He's more laissez-faire, and I'm more... obsessive-compulsive. I need to get background info from the previous FuJET leaders, who just so happen to be my friends. I need lists. I need highlighters. I need everything planned to the last detail.

Moreover, I'll be the first one to admit that I treat everyone like they're five-year-olds when we go on big FuJET trips. I make them do head counts aloud like we're all in kindergarten. I ask them to repeat instructions after me. I remind them not to pee every hour while we're drinking (orange juice) together on the chartered bus, since the bus driver never seems impressed when I ask for unscheduled bathroom breaks. I do all of these mildly annoying things, because I don't feel like leaving someone behind.

Earlier on, I made the mistake of trying to please everyone and anyone as I planned events for them. But after talking with my sempai, I've learned it'll kill you to be a complete people-pleaser. :)

Bottom line: It's cool to connect with my newbies, but FuJET has definitely sucked the fun out of organizing trips. It gets complicated handling things, especially since everyone is scattered across the -ken. GOOD TIMES. But I do appreciate the love I receive from my fellow JETs, plus the admiration from my BoE and students. (Some of the kids ran up with my newsletter, and were all excited after realizing I got it. CUTE!)

Maybe I'll write about our recent FuJET dealings, specifically: Leavers' Party, Mt. Fuji Climb, Tokyo Orientation, Fuku Orientation, Nagano, canyoning (I didn't go) and now MYC Dinner.

Japanese 101

The other day, I was re-arranging my bookshelves at home. Over the past year, I’ve collected various study aids that are supposed to help me become fluent in Japanese. I’ve got tons of resources. Untouched White Rabbit kanji flash cards. Genki textbooks. Free CLAIR study guides. JLPT past papers. Slang books like “Making Out in Japanese.” Books dedicated to the conjugation of verbs and the differences between particles. And notebooks scrawled with my messy hiragana and odd attempts at writing kanji.

(I'm getting better at recognizing kanji! At least when it comes to my kids' names. At lunch, the ichi-nenseis willingly scrawl their names in kanji for me. And I break it down in cursive writing for them. And they finally understand that my last name isn't Gemma, even though I'm called "Ms. Gemma" at all of my schools.)

By now, you’d think I’d be comfortable talking in somewhat broken Japanese. But still, my head doesn’t exactly grasp the odd grammatical structure of the language! My listening comprehension has improved leaps and bounds, but I can’t let the words escape my mouth with ease.

Last year, I was completely illiterate when it came to Japanese. It was frustrating, having to rely on others to translate for me. I remember when the taxi company hung up on me that first time, as I struggled to tell him I wanted to order a cab. I remember looking at the train timetables, and having no idea which kanji illustrated my destination.

So, little victories amuse me. These days, I can call the cab company and actually ask for a cab to pick me up at a specified time. I can read certain kanji, and figure out when my train is arriving.

And while I was in the photocopier room this week, one of the students’ parents came in to talk to me. She wanted to drop off her son’s uniform order slip, and asked if I could bring it up to the teacher's room. I understood her! Last year, I wouldn’t have had a clue.

わかりました。

Playing cards with the baseball kiddos

* Photo not an exact replica of my deck! :)

A few months ago, I realized that playing cards would be an easy way to bond with the boys at school. Back in high school, we'd spend our spare periods playing euchre! I knew it'd be risky to bring authentic playing cards into my little school in the Japanese school in the countryside, seeing as how everything is controlled. But kocho-sensei (the principal) saw me playing cards with the kiddos, and shot me a smile filled with approval. Or, so I'd like to think. He hasn't told me to change my ways!

Armed with my pack of light-green playing cards, I slipped into Homeroom 3-2 during recess. The boys were breaking out their tin box filled scraps of paper. I don't think the kids are allowed to bring in their own cards, so their lovely homeroom teacher has let them fashion "playing cards" out of white paper. How darling! The boys and girls also enjoy admiring my playing cards, which I bought from Dollarama back home. On the back, the cards look like fake Canadian dollar bills. I think there's a picture of Laurier. I've tried explaining he was once the prime minister. But the kids only know of America's Obama.

Today, the boys were excited to see me since they knew I had cards. We ended up playing "Daifugo," which they have translated for me as "Rich Man, Poor Man." We often scream "BIG MONEY!!!!" to the winner. It's nothing short of hilarious! I don't really get all of the rules, but it's similar to games we play back home. Bottom line: It's an interesting way to get them to speak English with me. (I also enjoy playing card games with my first-year boys. We have one game where we slap each others hands after turning over certain cards - jokes!)

When I lost round after round today, they said I was demoted to "monster." (I can't remember the Japanese word they used). But then they spinned it as "You are pretty monster." Ah, such young charmers! I've noticed that the baseball boys are probably the spunkiest of the bunch, and always willing to use their limited English skills with me. I'm going to miss these ones when they graduate come April.

Speaking of using English, S-kun said something hilarious at lunch. One of his classmates, S-chan, was sent home early. Swine flu is apparently circulating around my town now, and many kids are complaining of high fevers. S-chan looked pretty stoked to be leaving for the day, but I hope she feels better soon! Anyways, S-kun yells in English: "Please go home! Please go home!" OK, it was one of those "you-had-to-be-there" moments.

Well, I'm off to bed. Maybe I'll dream about being a daifugo (correction: rich woman).

"Do you know the Backstreet Boys?"

The other day after school, I was playing with my fave shogakkusei (elementary school kids). Nao-kun was sitting beside me on the swings, and shot me a devilish smile. "Kore wa nan desu ka?" he said. ("What is this?") He produced one of my laminated flash cards from his pocket. What a funny kid, taking my precious teaching resources! I'm glad I got it back, though!!

I moved onto the see-saws with the little ones. As they bobbed up and down, I'd count aloud in English. One of the parents walked by, and she asked if I was indeed "Gemma-sensei."

She excitedly used her broken English to ask me some questions. Now, most people like asking me what is my favorite Japanese food or if I'm married. But no, she asked me: "Do you know the Backstreet Boys?" We giggled like little school girls, and compared our favorite songs. We figured out that we're both fans of "I Want It That Way" and "Everybody." Ah, the notion of internationalization seeps through at odd moments! We were both pretty stoked to find common ground in our musical tastes.

But the kicker of this tale? So, she asked I knew her son. She then mentioned she coached him to ask if I liked the Backstreet Boys a few months ago. And it all came back to me... I ate lunch with the third-graders last year. After their time dedicated to brushing their teeth, K-kun tugged my hand and asked: "Do you like Backstreet Boys?... My mother likes Backstreet Boys!" Bless his little heart.

So, K-kun's mother and I stood in the playground, singing snippets of our favorite songs. I told her that next time I do karaoke, I will definitely request one of the Backstreet Boys greatest hits. Because I want it that way.

Let's enjoy sports!

While walking with V. in Koriyama last weekend, we talked about self-reflection. Living in Japan has given us loads of time to sit in our uninsulated houses in the inaka, and just think about ourselves.

For me, I've realized that JET has definitely surpassed my expectations. While I’m still quite the fish out of water in this country of many paradoxes, I’m starting to adjust to life in my little piece of the Japanese countryside. And I'm getting really attached to my kids, even though I feel awkward when we silently eat lunch together. (They barely speak to me when we're shoveling food down our throats. I don't think they like talking in English when we eat, lol).

My sense of kinship with the kids truly hit me when I watched my school’s recent pep rally. The senior students (3年生) officially retired from their club activities last spring. So, the kids standing up on stage in September were the little ones – aka the first- and second-graders.

These little ones - particularly the starters who were wearing their new uniforms – were beaming with pride that day. As I watched these fresh faces parade around the school gym, my eyes got a little teary. They don't realize how they've touched my life, but I am proud to say that I can watch these tykes grow up. I've especially enjoyed the special bond I have with my current ichi-nensei (7th-graders). We first met at their respective elementary schools, and now they're all at my junior high.

Many of the little ones on stage are the younger siblings of my current senior students (8th and 9th graders), in addition to those who have already moved onto high school. The little ones are the spitting images of each other, and many are following in their older siblings’ footsteps! For example, the basketball teams are now mainly composed of first-year students who have older siblings who were on the team last year.

One of my fave brother duos would have to be Te-chan and Yohei-kun. Te-chan is the older one who is such a ham, but runs away when I break out my camera. His little brother, Yohei, speaks with the cutest lisp and looks exactly like his brother. Te-chan expressed to me that he is the better baller of the two, ha. Kids say the funniest things, no?

* * *

In Japan, after-school activities become the glue that keeps these kids quite happy. At my school, there are various clubs: soft tennis, baseball, soccer, art club, brass band, table tennis, kendo and computer club.

Relationships in Japan are defined by seniority. Your elders are called "sempai," while the rookies are called "kohai." During club activities, kids will add these suffixes to their counterparts' names. It almost always bring a smile to my face when I hear them say "...-sempai!" It shows a lot of respect.

Taxi drivers

Trains are the lifelines that connect people within Japan. My little piece of countryside has its own station, called “Gohyakugawa Stn.” My area is called 五百川、meaning “500th River.” Apparently, it is the 500th river from Kyoto. Who knew?!

Anyways, my little pink apartment is a leisurely 22-minute walk from the station. Last year, it was a common occurrence for me to walk to the station every weekend, toting my trusty black overnight bag. I often found myself in the city of Koriyama, singing the night away at karaoke bars or attending surreal hip hop nights at the local clubs. Thus, 22 minutes ended up being a small price to pay so I could hang out with my friends.

But as the weather grew colder and I got lazier, I started calling the taxi company. I remember the first time I called. The dude fully hung up on me, since I couldn’t really stutter anything over the phone in Japanese. As time passed, my Japanese slowly improved… and the dude finally realized that the “gaijin” (foreigner – that’s me!) mainly needed to be shuttled between two places: either to Gohyakugawa Stn., or my apartment.

I’ve used Mashiko Taxi dozens and dozens of times over the past year, and I’d like to think that I’ve developed some friendly bonds with my taxi drivers. Now, I can mumble out what time I’d like to schedule my pick-up. In the past, I’d just say a location and wait it out.

I’d say I get 4-5 taxi drivers whom I encounter on a regular basis. We often exchange friendly conversation! I often feel very fluent in Japanese after regaling them with my tales. (I’m still far from being fluent, ha!) After imbibing a few beverages of choice, it's always interesting to explain my evenings out to them. "NIHONMATSU! ENKAI! SUBARASHII!!!" (Basically, I am yelling out words but not connecting them with verbs. This is an example of how I tried to express that I attended a "wonderful enkai in Nihonmatsu!")

There’s Mr. My-First-Cab-Ride-Home-Ever-Driver. He was the first guy who ever drove me home from the station. He’s very friendly, but I haven’t seen him in a while. He remembered when my family visited over Christmas. He is interested in Canada. Most notably, he drove me home after my arduous Fuji trip. He was very excited to hold my Fuji stick!

There’s Mr. Smokes-All-The-Time-Driver. He’s a quiet fellow, with a cigarette in his mouth whenever he has the chance to sit outside and wait for me. Most recently, he drove me home after my Tokyo trip. For some reason, he was extremely nice and stopped the taxi meter at only 680 yen. The savings! He also handed me a train timetable on my way out.

There’s also Mr. I-want-to-learn-English-Driver. He was really stoked to hear that I teach English. He attends eikawa (English conversational classes) in Koriyama. Last week, he proudly showed me his English textbook which was carefully placed on his passenger seat. I think he wants to take an English proficiency test in Tokyo this year!

I can’t forget Mr. My-Friend-Driver. He only started driving me around recently. When I picked up Liz from the station one day in my own car, he was surprised to see that I actually drive myself. I was introducing Liz to him as my friend (“Watashi no tomodachi!”) He turned it around, and told Liz that he is MY friend. What a funny man!

Motomiya also has a female taxi driver. I haven’t really run into many female cab drivers, so I thought was oddly fascinating. I don’t like that she often takes the long way to the station, making my fare reach almost 1,200 yennies! But yesterday, she finally figured out the shortcut via the rice fields – and I was charged an average amount. She always remembers that she drove my family and our luggage to the station last Christmas.

Yesterday, I had a new driver after I got home from Fukushima. In my limited Japanese, I had to explain to him the way to my place. Like many others, he chuckled at the ridiculously pink exterior of my place. And he followed up with: “Oboete imasu!” (I’m thinking that translates into: “Oh, I’ll remember!”)

Train, plane, taxi cab... all these choices are hip. But I'll always have a soft spot for my Motomiya taxi crew.

The senior students (3年生) and Nichu teachers descended upon the empty staff parking lot. We stood in lines, and looked up at the second-floor balcony. An enthusiastic photographer was perched upon his trusty tripod, and would yell "ICHI! NI! SAN!" ("1! 2! 3!") A broad, goofy grin would spread across his own face, as he willed us to do the same.

Being a third-year student is a pretty colossal deal. And every major moment is captured on film. During this past school year, they've already been documented at two sports events held at school. A photographer is usually invited to the school to snap photo after photo, particularly of our third-years. At the end of this school year, the kids will receive a yearbook filled with memories. Yesterday marked the day the students took a picture with all of us teachers.

Looking at the 95 students, I struggled to find an ideal spot. Moriei-sensei, who happens to be the baseball coach, encouraged me to stand with the baseball kiddos. They giggled and pointed at each other, saying: "He is gentleman! Stand beside him! He is gentleman!" (The kids still have no concept of the word, "a.")

I ended up hanging out with some of the girls from Homeroom 3-3. We waited patiently for the photographer to give everyone a cue. Everyone's hands were resting by their sides. But the instant he hollered for us to pose, something changed. All of us - teachers, boys, girls - automatically flipped up their peace signs. For me, it was one of those "Only in Japan" moments. I couldn't help but chuckle.

But other things reminded me that some things will always remain the same. The baseball boys from 3-2 jumped in unison for a couple shots; likewise, FuJETs often try to achieve the "jump shot."

Since I've arrived in the land of the rising sun, I've embraced the peace sign. I don't know what I did with my hands before smacking two fingers up to my right cheek! My friends even call it "The Gemma pose." Or, should I say, "The Guemma pose." (Thanks, Aizu boys. My name is forever pronounced incorrectly!)

Naming names

Erika. Eriko. Rui.
Takahiro. Takafumi. Naoto.
Chigusa. Chihiro.
Hiroto. Hiroki. Hiroatsu. Hiroshi.
Shiori-chan.
Syun-kun.

Onamae wa nan desu ka? (What is your name?)

These are just a few of my kids' names. To think that a year ago, the words coming out of their mouths were complete jibberish to me. To be quite honest, I am still very much lost in translation. But I can proudly decipher Japanese names, in addition to shouting out random Japanese words.

I can name all of the students at my base school. That's almost 300 kiddos! I can also point out my favorites who graduated onto high school last year. I also visit two elementary schools, but I've been having trouble commiting their names to memory. I do remember the ones that write me little notes or literally come knocking at my door after school.

Teachers and some of my friends are always surprised when I call each student out by name. I feel like naming names is a small way to make an instant connection with my students. I mean, I still can't hold down a basic conversation in Japanese with them. Plus, I am terrible at sports... so I just watch them during club activities on the odd day I feel like staying after school. (I did promise the soft tennis girls I'd make my second appearance on the court next week, so that they can teach me how to serve!)

In recent weeks, I've experienced a lot of frustration living in Japan. On little things, like not receiving omiyage like the rest of the teachers. But little glimmering moments remind me that my students keep me sane. I'm enjoying my "celebrity status" in Motomiya. The teachers in my staffroom fully believe that I spend all my time at the local MOS Burger restaurant and Yoku Benimaru, since all of the students will casually mention this to their teachers. But my most interesting run-in would have to be with the senior boys from baseball, who happened to be at the Asahi Beer Factory on my birthday. They still snicker in class when we do one of our lessons where the JTE asks: "Gemma-sensei, would you like to drink sake?" The whole class has to repeat it as well. Awkward.

So, yes, running into my students all over town is fun. Over the weekend, for example, I saw the brass band at Cafe Gusto. When I walked downtown with N., I ran into my fave 3年生 boys as they were perusing the manga racks at the local bookshop. There was even Kei-kun, who now sports massive manga hair, who was riding his bike - he was one of my students last year. At the Koriyama Stn., my little １年生 boys talked with me on their way to Mac (McDonald's). And at Plant 5, which is our local Costco-like store, I ran into Shou-kun who was busy eating ice cream.

The １年生 are the most enthusiastic - love those kids. Those who are shy will usually dash away, which I understand. I mean, who wants to talk with their teacher during their downtime?

Even the quietest "Herro!" makes my day.

Twenty-five candles.

This month was brought to you by the number 25.

The day before payday, I had a mere 25 yen sitting idly in my Japanese bank account. Literally. (For my Canadian counterparts, that’s about 25 cents. For my British girls, that’s about 17.5 quid. Pounds?). My passbook looked quite bare. (That’s right – I don’t have the luxury of online banking in Japan. In a country riddled with gadgets galore, they enjoy keeping some things simple. Thus, emerges simple things like squat toilets and bank passbooks).

My lack of funds can be attributed to an action-packed summer: the FuJET Fuji climb (p.s. Fuji, we're no longer friends), Tokyo shopping and nights out in Tokyo with the newbies (make that two “business” trips), sending money back home, paying a rather large sum for four months worth of school lunches, car inspections, and of course, my new bed. I’ve never been this broke. But it was all worth it!

***

I turned 25 a few days ago. It was pretty anticlimactic. I strolled into work at 8:10 a.m. I spent the morning coaching my students for the upcoming speech contest. After our individual sessions, I had casually mentioned it was my birthday. The girls squealed in excitement, and quiet N-kun greeted me with a nice “Happy Birthday!” I told my JTE, who announced it to the staffroom – so basically all five staff who showed up to work that day greeted me with an “お誕生日おめでとう！”

The school nurse even said in English: “Happy Birthday!” That afternoon, I ended up going out for lunch with the ladies of the staffroom. It turns out that was the designated day for the girls to go out and have lunch together. I felt awkward, because they were all chitchatting in Japanese. I played around with little Ayano-chan; she’s the spunky five-year-old daughter of C-sensei.

I’ve always enjoyed celebrating with family and friends. Even as a teenager, I’d invite my closest friends over to my place before we’d head downtown for the clubs. Dad always enjoyed being an “emcee” for the evening, and would even walk around our living room with a mic. That's right - we’re THAT family. :)

This year, I sat around the usual table at the conveyor belt sushi place in Nihonmatsu. We feasted over our favorite sushi, then Hezza surprised me with birthday cake topped with five candles! My friends burst out into song, which encouraged the rest of the restaurant’s patrons to sing along as well. Awesome. The sushi place didn’t have any appropriate knives or forks for us, so I dished out my cake by using chopsticks. Only in Japan.

On Saturday night, I kicked off my birthday festivities at the Asahi Beer Factory. This lovely drinking establishment is located just up the street from me. I invited my friends from across the prefecture. We enjoyed over for two hours of unlimited drinks and yakiniku. Looking around the room, I realized how grateful I am to have met a great bunch of people in Fukushima. It’s funny how being thrown into the unknown forces you to develop immediate bonds with people you’d probably never encounter back home.

Anyways, everyone got into Motomiya by train. They came from across the –ken: Fuku, Koriyama, Aizu, Iwaki, Inawashiro, Shirakawa and so on. So, it was kind of funny to see dozens and dozens of foreigners walking down the sidewalk for my birthday jam – my city doesn’t experience that every day.

It was even more hilarious when we walked into the beer garden’s parking lot, and I ran into my students. That is, some of the senior boys from our amazing baseball club! They were at the beer garden with their parents and M-sensei, their baseball coach. They were celebrating the fact that their team earned top honours! I obviously took advantage of this great photo opportunity – Yuki’s mom even jumped into the photo. (They have the SAME FACE.

(By Monday morning, everyone in the staffroom had heard how I celebrated my birthday at the beer garden. Later, I would remind M-sensei that we ran into each other at an izakaya (Japanese pub) when I was up in Fukushima City last month. He was there drinking with other teachers, while I was drinking with my fellow English teachers. I told him I only drink “cola.”)

Back to my birthday jam: Festivities continued in Koriyama. We went to our favorite watering hole, Billy’s Bar. We also had the brilliant idea to hit up a hip hop night at a nearby club. We ended the night by crashing at S’s inviting apartment. It was an epic weekend. That is all.

Teasers

I've quickly flipped through my blog, and have duly noted that I have loads of stories that I still want to share. I'm absolutely tired right now, so I'll just make a rolling list of stuff that will help jog my memory for future posts:

- Tokyo Trip in March (AGEHA)
- Nichu good-byes
- Hiroshima/Miyajima trip with the girls in March
- Sakura BBQ
- Golden Week in May: Kansai (Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe, Himeji); Seoul.
- Sendai shenanigans
- Watching baseball in Sendai
- "Drinking party" to celebrate baseball at Nichu
- Sports Day
- Leavers' Party in Fukushima-shi
- Facing Mt. Fuji
- Tokyo Orientation (Groups A and B)
- Care packages
- Playing with my shogakusei
- Good-byes
- Fun times with my 3年生
- I don't sleep on the floor no more

FuJET vs. Fuji

She proudly stands below Tokyo, often crowned with snow at her summit throughout the year. To me, she is the most recognizable symbol of Japan.

Mt. Fuji.

This Saturday, I'll be climbing Mt. Fuji with almost 30 other Fukushima JETs. I still can't quite grasp what I've signed up for. At about 3,800 metres tall - Fuji is considered the tallest mountain of all Japan.

I've read the websites, talked to my travel agent, and listened to the advice from my sempai/kyotou-sensei. Overall, I've learned the following:
- Bring yennies if you want to pee, because the toilets cost money.
- The descent may be more strenuous than the ascent.
- Don't give up, even when the Japanese grandmothers effortlessly sail up the mountain. (I experienced this when I climbed Mt. Misen, a small mountain near Miyajima. Grandmothers were flying up the stairs at record speed, while young ladies were teetering on their high heels).
- etc.

This is the first major task that I've handled as FuJET VP. People who've travelled with me have learned that I am a major task-master. I love to make lists when planning trips, and have an obsession with them. I love being ridiculously organized when it comes to travelling into the unknown. You definitely won't see me hitchhiking across Shikoku like some of my friends during Golden Week - it's not my steeze!

Hopefully, I'll make it to the summit! I can't say I've stayed true to my Fuji Workout Plan. I took walks and jogs around my neighbourhood, but they were mostly unsuccessful. I'd end up chatting with my neighbours or my students. And sometimes, I'd fully stop and watch the baseball practices at school. I also climbed all the way up the ruins of Nihonmatsu Castle - I broke into a light sweat, and told S. that I'm just not a hiking enthusiast!

My JTE joked that I could call his cell phone if I get lost on Fuji. Most of my staffroom was surprised that I wanted to climb it in the first place. They initially believed I have a fascination with hiking, but I quickly explained I'm not. It's all about conquering this cone-shaped mountain that is known throughout the world.

Am I contagious?

It seems like old people think that I will infect them with germs.

Let me explain. I had to go to a health clinic tucked away in a nearby village, so that I could finish the last of my travel vaccinations. I overheard the elderly folk asking my supervisor in Japanese if he was indeed in good health. He explained that "the foreigner needs to get some vaccinations." Curious glances ensued.

When my supervisor left for a few minutes to do some errands, I had the entire bench to myself. An old lady came in, and sat down about two feet away from me. She looked over, and squeezed herself onto a bench that was filled to capacity with five other obaachan.

And that, my friends, marked my first experience as truly feeling like that "gaijin with germs." (Foreigner with germs).

That's right - I'm humorously donning a mask in the above photo. In Japan, it's actually very popular and "considerate" to wear a mask. The trend certainly increased with the swine flu scare. When I first saw the trend, it totally threw me off. But you get used to it. I forgot to warn my family before they came over for a visit last winter, so they were surprised when they saw everyone and their baby's mamma wearing masks.

My students often wear them, in an effort to avoid the "influenza" or a common cold. The mask is also used by those with illnesses, so that they'll protect others from getting it. It also functions as a great cover-up for those unsightly blemishes, I bet.

I've only tried on a mask twice since being here. And both occasions have involved an intense dusting of my house, that's all. I am grossed out when my students take off their masks at school. They place it neatly on the side of their desk during lunchtime, then place it right back on after brushing their teeth. Mmm, think of all the germs crawling on that moist mask.

Now, that's hygienic.

My next adventure in the health field? Going to the dentist this summer.

Rest in Peace, Michael Jackson

Pop music legend Michael Jackson died last week after suffering from a cardiac arrest at home, the media has reported.

I was on my futon sipping my morning coffee, and found this out from dozens of status updates on my friends’ Facebook pages. (It’s crazy to think how news keeps filtering through different avenues as time progresses, no? Oh, J1000…)

MJ’s influence has touched people all over the world. Everyone has a “MJ-related” story.

At school, we use a series of English textbooks called “New Horizons.” There are some songs by Stevie Wonder and Mariah Carey on some pages.

Michael Jackson’s “We are the World” is printed in the third-year textbook. Most of my students quickly flip through the textbook, and probably overlook the English songs. But last year, some of my san-nensei (ninth-graders) used MJ’s song as the centerpiece for their creative writing assignments.

My favorite skit? Shou asked Miki on a date. “Hey, Miki! Do you know Michael Jackson? We should go to his concert together. On a date.” She rejected him! (The poor kids had to “perform” their skits in front of me. Amazing).

My kyoto-sensei, who is a darling and makes sporadic attempts to converse with me, uttered the words "Mai-ka-ru Ja-ko-so-nu?!" on Friday. We had a moment as I gestured that I was surprised such an icon died. Kyoto-sensei couldn't believe MJ was only 50.

MJ, thanks for reminding us that, "We are the world. We are the children. We are the ones who make a brighter day."

Living the “funemployment” dream

I’m basically “funemployed,” a recently coined term that describes twenty and thirtysomethings who reject the typical 9 to 5 in order to pursue happiness in leisurely activities. (There was a nice read about “funemployment” in the Globe and Mail last week).

Don’t get me wrong – I do have an 8-4 job. And surprisingly, I am “invited” to more classes per week than the average JET. But my duties are quite limited -- I don’t have to plan lessons for my junior high classes. Sometimes, I need to create a worksheet or a skit to demonstrate the language target of the day. I do other random things to make an English presence at school, like update my bulletin board and talk to kids throughout the day. I am starting to increase my visits with the kids during their club practices after school. This week, I invited myself to learn how to play soft tennis with the first and second-grade girls! Ha.

I think most ALTs will agree that the job is definitely more about the influence we have beyond the classroom walls. It’s about simply getting kids enthusiastic when learning English. It’s about making them aware that there are different ideas and cultures outside of Japan. I think I’m slowly achieving these ideas in minute ways.

I was doing my groceries the other night, and a kid yelled: “Gemma-sensei!” His mom whispered back to him, probably wondering why he was yelling after a foreigner. When she found out I was his English teacher, she nudged her kid closer to me so that we could talk for a second. We exchanged our basic aisatsu (greetings), as the kid grinned ear to ear.

The junior high school kids are now comfortable with me, and treat me like their older sister. I like playing cards with the little seventh-grade boys, who also show me their magic tricks.

The older kids keep me up to date on the latest gossip, so I know which students are currently dating and who likes whom. The ninth-grade boys now enjoy hamming it up when I take their pictures, and graciously thank me when I let them janken (“rock, paper, scissors) over my unopened apple jelly. They also thought it would be hilarious to make me stick my face near a tin box; when they flipped it open, it was filled with their classroom pets: beetle-like bugs. Ew. They laughed as I exclaimed two of their bugs were dead. (Sure enough, all eight bugs were dead the next time I visited their classroom).

So, my time outside the classroom is pretty relaxed and fun. I also have loads of time to take off from school. I’ve been lucky enough to travel to several places this year. I’ve bopped to house music in Tokyo’s largest nightclub until 4 a.m. I’ve seen several historic shrines and temples in Kyoto twice. I saw the infamous paper cranes associated with the story of a young Hiroshima bombing victim. I’ve eaten deep-fried foods and kimchee on the streets of Seoul. I’ve gotten lost in the wintry streets of Sapporo, looking for an ice bar.

My list goes on. I am really quite fortunate that I have this time in my life to be “funemployed.”

Things can get frustrating out here – I often get tired of the communication barriers. But I’m learning to exert LOTS of patience. I need to remind myself that I have some pretty sweet kids, teachers, new friends and amazing travel opportunities. As the saying goes, the world is my oyster. Let's stay funemployed for as long as it stays feasible, no?

Celebrity status

It happens to all of us.

Everyone and their baby's mamma recognizes the local ALT out and about in the community. I can't go to the kombini (convenience store) or shopping complex without being recognized. It sounds pretty self-centered; but I really am the token "gaijin" (foreigner) in my neighbourhood.

The other day, I got into my car after getting an onigiri (rice ball) from the local 7/11. As I was slowly driving off, three of my shogakkusei (elementary school kiddos) recognize me, and started screaming "Gemma-sensei!! Gemma-sensei!" I gave them a polite wave, then kept weaving my way through the narrow streets of my neighbourhood.

An additional four kiddos were then added to the mix. These kids had guts; they actually chased my car while screaming my name. When I had to make a stop, they plastered themselves against my car. Oh, the danger! I had to turn off my engine, and politely ask them to step away from my car. Nothing like having four little kids draped across your windows and car hood.

Shogakkusei are crazy cute, but also just plain crazy.

Another recent encounter includes a run-in with one of my kids who graduated last year. It also happens that he's one of the sons of my landlord. I was at the nearby community, signing up for another month of yoga classes. And that's when A. saw me. We actually struck up a conversation in English, which is pretty refreshing. I am really proud that he always tries to speak in English with me - he doesn't care if he makes mistakes. He was even able to explain to me that the community centre clerk has a daughter. I taught her last year, too! She was tickled pink when I saw her kiddo at the train station the other week.

They see me rollin'... Bike safety

In April, I noticed the entire student body congregated at the bike park at the end of recess. It was a little odd, so I went outside to check out the shenanigans. As usual, I sported my cool sunglasses. The kids often yell “Kakoi!!” (“Cool?!”) and enjoy trying them on.

So, the kids were all in their bright blue gym uniforms and were perched upon their bikes. They also wore their identical white bike helmets, and waited in orderly lines.

Apparently, we were going to spend the afternoon learning about bike safety. They were being tested on their ability to safely navigate their way around the surrounding roads and rice paddies. One by one, they set off on a course around the neighbourhood as the teachers kept a watchful eye.

After all 275 students finished the quick ride, we all retreated to the dusty soccer pitch at the back of our school. (The kids sat down on the pitch, in their straight lines, as per usual). Three safety officers gave us a little presentation on the importance of bike safety.

I think it’s interesting how all of this is unfamiliar territory to me. Growing up, all of my schools were at least a 10-minute drive from my place. Like most students, I took the yellow school bus. In high school and university, I took public transportation (ie. the city buses) or I drove.

Here in Japan, I am fortunate enough to live near my base school. It’s a 7-minute walk, or a one-minute drive. Now that I have a car, I always drive to school – those extra six minutes in the morning are really nice. But I do miss the walks to school, because I can meet and greet my students along the way.

When I used to walk to school, I'd hear a steady chorus of "Herro!" or "Good morning, Gemma-sensei" as the kids zoomed past me on their bikes. Maybe I'll start the walking trend again this summer. But probably not, because it's not fun sweating in the ridiculous humidity here.

Stranger danger

It seemed like an average work day in May when the men in my staffroom had their eyes on the clock. Armed with broomsticks and the like, they waited for the clock to strike three. I stood with them, but without any “weapon.” I really had no idea what was expected of me.

It was “Stranger Awareness Day" at Nichu. We spent the afternoon teaching students the importance of protecting yourself from strangers. But as per usual, I have discovered that the Japanese take it to another level.

When I was a kid, I think we popped in a safety video and watched it together. Some years, we had a policeman come in and make a special appearance. He’d warn us to never enter suspicious vehicles or talk to strangers. In my neighbourhood, we were told to avoid the “white van” that grabbed kids off sidewalks.

But I digress.

There was a strange man who was running up and down the Nichu hallways while yelling. I figured he was the dude posing as the “stranger” entering the school. Y-sensei, who was clutching his wooden kendo sword, looked over and kindly said: “Gemma-sensei… PLEASE ESCAPE NOW!!!”

So, I shuffled my way to the gym. Kids started filtering in a few minutes later. Then, the teachers ran in. Some of them were actually panting, so I’m guessing they legitimately chased the stranger with their kendo swords and broomsticks.

The school also has a special “stranger prod.” It is an eight-foot metal stick with a U-shaped end. Do they grab the stranger by the waist, and then push him out the front entrance? I wish I stuck around to see that comedic performance.


Stay alert, stay safe.

Kids are ridiculously hilarious

This school year, I’ve been given some additional responsibilities at work. A stack of completed worksheets is carefully tucked into my middle drawer; I have the task of correcting all of ‘em. This may seem like a mundane assignment; but I actually enjoy whipping out my Lilo & Stitch stamp and inkpad for such occasions.

My students’ homework often brings a smile to my face. Why? The second-graders’ compositions are giving me a quick glimpse into their daily lives. Their personal reflections are definitely shaped by their surroundings. A lot of my kids have written how their weekends were consumed by planting rice with their parents or grandparents. Others have said they spend hours upon hours doing their club activities, followed by a session at cram school after dinner. And many of them talk about hanging out at the nearby mall, where they enjoy eating cheeseburger "sets" from McDonald's.

Here are a couple excerpts:

“We practiced baseball in the morning. It was very hard. I studied Japanese and social studies. And I played a game in the afternoon. I went to private school after dimer. I learned English. I was very tired.”

“I played on TV games for two hours. ‘My the summer vacation’ and watched TV ‘A SpongeBobu.’ I was very happy.”

“I returned home after school. And I went to hospital by bike. I got oneself examined. The doctor made a careful examination of my a finger. I went to a pharmacy after that. And I bought a lipcream. In all, it took one hour. I was very tired.” (Poor girl!!)

Kids also tell me some of the funniest things:
“I’ll see you, baby!” – one of my elementary school kiddos bidding me adieu. I told him he watches way too many movies.

“HERRO!” – I’ve started teaching phonics to the kiddos, but they still can’t differentiate between “r” (ra ra ra racket) and “l” (la la la lion).

"Gemma-sensei, are you a mother?" - one of my elementary school kiddos.

Motomiya on a rainy day

It's springtime in Fukushima-ken, meaning farmers are often out in the fields tending to their crops. Motomiya is the proud of home of rice fields galore. We're dubbed the "smallest" city in Fukushima, but there's no denying that I live in the countryside. Although I've had to adapt quite a bit, I've grown to love this place.

The following list will seem like a list of complaints; but these little things have transported me to a different way of life, where I've had to learn to change some of my ways, ha. Here are a few "Only in the Boonies"-moments that I'd like to share:
- I once had a little frog in my genkan (front entrance). That was pretty gross.
- The other day, I stepped out of my apartment and was pretty close to stepping on a snake. I yelled. It was gross.
- I tried to drive alongside the rice paddies this week, in an effort to get to my Board of Education. (Usually, I take the main arterial road). With my infamous lack of navigation skills, I got lost amidst the rice paddies. I still don't know how to successfully drive around rice paddies.
- I don't drive with road names in mind anymore; I rely on landmarks like the 7/11. To get to Soph's house, she told me to pass the "hip hop store on the left." Ha.
- I can't go to the konbini (convenience store) or local shopping areas without running into my students, their parents or my fellow teachers. Everyone is always all up in your grill. My fellow teachers will roll down their windows, and holler at me when I'm walking around the neighbourhood.
- I was a couple minutes late for work recently. My short commute is really only one-minute by car. But one day, I got stuck behind a grandpa who was driving his tractor; and the next day, another grandpa was blocking myshort cut with his trolley full of vegetables.
- My kids are expected to bike to and from school every day. But sometimes, they score a car ride from their family. A lot of them get picked up in short, white trucks with big flatbeds - these are usually used by farmers.
- A truck has started making its rounds in my neighbourhood, playing a loud song peddling "yaki imo" (roasted sweet potato). Go on Youtube, and look up the "Yaki imo" truck. You'll understand why I don't like the song. But I do like roasted sweet potatoes.
- Frogs serenade me to sleep. They're all really noisy, now that the weather's swell and the rice fields are flooded.

Spring has sprung

Spring in Japan ushers in tons of changes. The cherry blossoms sprout up in early spring, encouraging people to enjoy the pretty views underneath the trees. It’s common to enjoy “hanami” (花見), which is the Japanese custom of enjoying the views of the flowers. Throughout Japan, a splash of pink washes the landscape. In April, the Fukushima peeps organized a solid Brazilian BBQ at one of the cherry tree-lined parks.


The sakura (cherry blossoms) are the light pinks ones in the background.

In late April, students had their brief two-week “spring break.” But the kids loyally report to school every day, so that they can attend their club activities. During this time, I opted to take a trip down to Hiroshima and Miyajima. That’s a blog for another time. In a nutshell, it was quite the sobering experience.

Japan’s school year kicks off in late April/early May. At my junior high school, the third-floor was filled with the faces of 95 kiddos all dressed in their new Nichu uniforms. They graduated from the two nearby elementary schools, so I’ve already had some experience teaching them. It’s been interesting seeing how they’ve gone from being the “mature” sixth-graders at shogakko (elementary school), to the overtly genki ichi-nensei (first-graders) in junior high school.

The current san-nensei students (third-grade students aka the JHS seniors) have definitely carved a special spot in my heart. They’re probably the hardest working students, and are the least afraid to approach me in English. I was eating lunch with one of the homerooms last week, and was asking about all the school gossip. But they turned the tables on me, and asked: “Do you have a boyfriend?” This question isn’t out of the ordinary, especially since kids will be kids. But this particular student is one of the most soft-spoken kids ever, so it was pretty funny to hear him utter those words. He then giggled like a schoolgirl – pure jokes.

In Japan, teachers also face rotation at the start of the new school year. Kocho-sensei (the principal) informs those who will be leaving and staying on a one-on-one basis in his office, because everything is supposed to be veiled in secrecy. But everyone talks in the staffroom. I was able to find out who was leaving Nichu before the official “farewell” party, where the teachers are revealed. I only work with two JTEs; one of them was transferred to another city. At the end of the term, we went out for dinner and karaoke one night with my friends in Koriyama. She’s a riot!

I also lost some of my favorite elementary school teachers. Shogakko (elementary school) staffrooms are slightly overwhelming to me, since the teachers rarely understand English. There's tons of polite smiling, and many"Gomen nasai!" (Sorry!!). When I re-started my shogakko visits this month, I noticed that "Beverly Hills 90210-sensei" is no longer at Gohyakugawa. He was one of the roku-nensei (sixth-grade) homeroom teachers, and always made an effort to talk with me. Our conversations often revolved around the TV classic, Beverly Hills 90210. Apparently, he attributes his limited English skills to that show. He'd tell me things like "Ah, Burandon! Burenda! Peachy Pit!" Hilarious. I also miss Manami-sensei, who had one of the genkiest third-grade classrooms ever at Iwane. Boo boo!!

Lastly, YoVilla earned the top spots in FuJET last March. I’m now the vice president of this chapter! It was a tight race, so I’m definitely giving shout-outs to our opposition – JAlex! I am pretty excited for what’s to come!! Our first major events include a trek up the infamous Mt. Fuji, followed by Tokyo Orientation where we meet all the incoming Fukushima JETs.



We did a lot of ridiculous stuff during the campaign season. We did a video shoot in shorts, despite the fact that it was still cold outside. I could only laugh when my elementary school students saw us, then quickly sped off on their bikes after a quick hello. Kimoi ("Creepy!"). But seriously, Mateo, mad props on making the videos.

The Throwdown – written in late January 2009

Their jet-black hair is pinned into an immaculate bun. Clad only in an ornate apron and fundoshi (ie. cloth swaddled around their loins??), each man parades around the ring for the opening ceremonies. Some of them simply seem chunky, while others seem rather muscular. As they face the crowds, they stand with pride in a ring. Hundreds of people have filled the stadium to watch awe and clap for these giant figures. This is the second-last day of the sumo tournament in Tokyo, featuring some of today’s bigger names of the ancient sport.

Bright and early on Saturday morning, the girls (M-sensei and H-sensei) and I stumbled onto a Tokyo-bound bus at 7:20 a.m. I am not a morning person, but hey, we are trying to save our yennies. (The 1.5-hours shinkansen ride is faster and more expensive. The bus takes about four hours from Koriyama.)

We caught some lunch at T.G.I Friday’s with the other JETs. The restaurant’s servers all had to wear silly hats and buttons on their suspenders (flair?!) It was something right out of the movie, “Office Space.”

We all headed to Ryogoku, which has been dubbed “Sumo Town” in Tokyo. On the sidewalk, there were a couple of the amateur wrestlers who were out and about. These are the “scrubs” – they are still in the early stages of learning the sport. The sumo tournament is held in the Kokukigan, which is a green-roofed building located beside the train station. Since it was the second-last day of the tournament, the place was obviously packed with eager spectators.

A decorative roof is suspended right above the sumo ring, which is located in the middle of the stadium. Red cushions dot the lower level; people pay top dollar for this prime seating. We sat on the upper level, but still had a great view of the bouts. Despite their sheer immense size, I thought that the sumo wrestlers’ movements had a hint of grace. Their calculated moves are meant to instill fear in their opponents, and inspire frenzy amongst the hundreds of fans who are sitting in the arena or listening to the bouts on the radio. M-sensei and I fancied the foreign looking Kotooshu, who looked like a teddy bear in the sumo booklet. We also saw the infamous Asashoryu.

At night, we ended up doing the usual – grabbed dinner and went clubbing. We ended up at “Air,” which H-sensei has discovered is the same one in that “Lost in Translation” movie. It was all right – I wasn’t really feeling it, because I was sick. And there so much house music – soooo much house music. We also had to stay out pretty late, because our hostel locks the front doors between 2 a.m. and 4:30 a.m. We cabbed back, and I finally got to bed around 5 a.m. Ah, Tokyo.

On Sunday, we went down to Harajuku where the girls had their hair appointments. I wandered around Harajuku while waiting for them. We then ate at Pizza Express, and I salivated over my delicious spinach and cheese calzone. Oh, how I miss cheese! (I’m only mentioning the mundane task of eating… because…. Mom, Dad, Ernest – we had the same waiter! “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” haha)

“They of them”: Mid-Year Conference

Oops!: This blog was written in November 2008. I failed to post quite a few old blogs. My bad.

***

Every November, FuJETs meet in Fukushima City for the Mid-Year Conference. It was really comforting to see everyone again. While I often hang out in the "big" city of Koriyama, it’s rare to see the others who live so far away from Motomiya. (Wow, I'm becoming a country girl who often escapes to the "big" city.)

We had yet another all-you-can-eat/drink (nomihoudai/tabehoudai) dinner at a beer garden near Fuku. We then boarded two chartered buses bound for a chill lounge in Fukushima. Everyone was trying to cram into the back of the bus for many photo opportunities.

It was a terrible idea, because I left my camera on the bus that night. I crawled all over the bus, but didn't see it at the time. (On the plus side, our lovely travel agent found it for me. SCORE!) Oh, and I recognized our bus driver as the same dude who drove our chartered bus to Nagano – I wonder if he can actually tolerate us? We got to the club, where I proceeded to take a much-needed nap. All of this partying is starting to get catch up with me.

At the actual conference, the speakers focused on the importance of internationalization. It was also highlight that “reading the air" is apparently the key to understanding Japanese culture. (Did you know that in Japan, “teeth sucking” indicates frustration? My cab driver once sucked his teeth at me when I dropped an ichi-man ($100) to pay for our cab ride. (“A hundred dollar bills, look at you! Look at you!!”). Some of the workshops were helpful; others were not.

There were indeed tons of quotable quotes from the conference’s speakers. I was confused when the last speaker was reading out a nonsensical poem that goes “They of them” or something like that.

Another memorable moment included a university professor who recited the Gettysburg address; when asked about its relevance to the topic of team-teaching and EFL, he said he just threw it in there because it was something he memorized back in the day. And he wanted to show it off??

Of course, the “tea-bagging” quote by the ex-ALT-turned-professor-in-a-Japanese-university. He was pretty funny, and had lots of anecdotes.

Overall, MYC was an excuse to party with the JETs again -- not going to lie. It was also nice talking English at a steady, normal pace. True story.

On the campaign trail

Note: The following blog is quite sappy.

In my prefecture, we have a group that acts as the social lubricant that hopes to bring all Fukushima JETs together. That’s FuJET.

Spring’s just around the corner, so we’re faced with elections to choose next year’s FuJET executives.

Enter YoVilla. I’m running for the vice president position; my friend, Matt, is running for the presidential spot. Coining our last names, we’re YoVilla.

Campaigning has been interesting. It has involved lots of videos, in the hopes of reaching the Fukushima JETs throughout our prefecture. I seriously have to give MAD props to Matt, who is most definitely the creative genius behind all that is funny in our videos. (And I’m sorry for being cranky during the last shoot – but it was freakin’ cold! All of my Iwane kids know that we were prancing around the park in ridiculous summer clothes on a chilly winter’s day. I heard them gossiping about it during my last school visit. That’s awkward). Anyways、おつかれさまでした。

FuJET has been such an important part of my amazing experiences here in Japan. What has it done for me? With the current FuJET execs, I spent my last Tokyo Orientation night partying in Shibuya until 4 or 5 a.m. And then I woke up couple hours later, taking a long bus ride to meet my supervisor. I’ve cheered on the picturesque soccer fields in Nagano while the Fukushima Akabekos struggled to reach the ball. I’ve actually been to major sumo tournament in Tokyo. And I’ve endured the ridiculously long ferry (cruise ship?) rides to Hokkaido and back for the Sapporo Snow Festival.

Most of all, I value the friendships that I’ve made through FuJET. We’ve only met each other eight months ago, but I’ve found some people (both FuJETs and non-FuJETs) who have provided me with great laughs and have always looked out for me. I have this back home, too. But it’s nice to immediately find good people in a foreign place. Aw, shucks.

卒業式 - Graduation

This blog was written during the last week of February

Obedience

I stood shivering at the back of the school gym with my eyes slightly welling up with tears. Not once, but twice this week.The school band was tucked away in the back corner, playing “Pomp and Circumstance.”

It is graduation season, meaning students across Japan are now in the midst of graduation rehearsals. My school has often cancelled the last period of the day to hold these school-wide practices.

Anyways, that song reminds me of all the good and bad times from high school and university. It’s also a reminder that I’d like to be there when my brother graduates from good ol’ Carleton.

To tell you the truth, I don’t remember my middle school graduation. I know it was held in our own school gym. I wore a long black dress with ugly cream flowers, along with a crochet shawl. Fashionable, fashionable people. My kids will wear their formal uniforms.

Graduation rehearsals?!

After cleaning time, all of the Nichu students have been changing back into their formal winter uniforms. It’s a familiar sight to see them clutching their wooden chairs as they walk to the school gym for assemblies.

Walking two by two, they enter the gym and know where exactly they should be seated. The san-nensei (third-years) students are neatly seated in the front. The girls are on the left; the boys are the right. There’s a slight empty space; then, the ichi-nensei and ni-nensei students (first- and second-years) place their seats in similar fashion.

The assistant to the vice-principal is usually responsible for leading the “exercises.” Students bow when he says “Ichido - rei!” And when I say bow, it is deep bowing is involved. He’ll go over their process many times. Teachers walk around, and try to see which chairs are the creakiest. It’s a sight. Students’ posture is also scrutinized. If they’re caught slouching, one of the teachers will run over and straighten them up. The boys are taught to sit with their fists clenched, while the girls sit with their hands clasped in the laps. Such behaviour totally brings a new meaning to the importance of maintaining one's appearances.

My favorite part is the clapping practices. If you know me, I enjoy laughing. When I realized they were trying out different claps, I had to do my utmost to contain my laughter. Honestly?! HONESTLY!!

Left, right, left

Back at home, graduands just show up the morning of the ceremony. There’s an experienced team of people who are there to throw on your robe, neatly fold your hood, tell you where to sit and stand and even confirm the pronunciation of your name.

I am most surprised by the san-nensei students in their procession. The homeroom teacher majestically walks at the helm, while his/her third-years meekly follow in two lines divided between boys and girls. They snake their way to the back of the gym.

The music switches, and they use the middle aisle to walk back to their seats located near the front of the stage. It’s usually a boy-girl pairing that walk down the aisle together. First, the pair steps up from the genkan. Their eyes are glued to the floor, as they are staring at the feet of the couple in front of them. When that first pair steps across the painted green line on the gym floor, the new pair takes their first step. With their respective left feet. I’m serious.
Sing your heart out

Music is an important of any school assembly. For graduation, the school band plays a variety of songs. The entire student body sings the Japanese national anthem, and the school song. (My JTE is thoughtful, and wrote out both songs in romaji for me. I can read!)

I had jokingly asked my kocho-sensei (principal) to teach me the school song – he chuckled, and pointed at the kanji written on a large board near the gym’s stage. Thanks, kocho-sensei… he knows I can’t read kanji!

Parting thoughts

These rehearsals simply reinforced the notion that everything adheres to certain traditions in this country. Even in my elementary schools, all of the students have been practicing the school song and twirling their batons.

But what I don’t understand is the number of hours we’ve spent in the freezing cold gym, watching the students perfecting to their bows. I mean, they’ve been doing this for years. They probably learned to how to bow before they could walk. Those kids were shivering in the gym. I even started wearing a scarf to practices, because it was that cold.

In Japan, graduation is a major milestone for junior high school students. They’ve spent years growing up together. It’s often said that many students become attached not only to their peers, but also their homeroom teachers.

I’m not all that surprised, seeing as how they seem to spend every waking hour at school. On the weekends, I see some of them as they bike home from their various club activities. That’s dedication.

The following blog was written on March 12

Preparation for graduation
“Gum tape, gum tape… Gemma-sensei, gum tape, please!”

The ni-nensei students (second-years) and I were busy decorating the homeroom classes for the graduating students. It was the day before the actual graduation ceremony, so the graduands were resting at home… while the rest of the school spent the afternoon putting everything in its place.

The whole decorating process was interesting in itself. The students descended upon the gym. They put out the chairs, the banners and the tables. But it was unusual, in that they had to replicate photos that illustrated the graduation ceremony from previous years. They knew the piano had to be placed at an exact 30 degree angle at a certain spot, because they were provided with a photo. They knew each table needed to be draped with freshly-pressed white tablecloths, as illustrated by the model photo. You get the picture.

Same deal for the decorating of the san-nensei homerooms. We knew where to hang the paper chains, tissue flowers and blackboard display; model photos were always provided. I thought it was cute how the second-year girls were very particular in their tissue flower selection. The 3-1 class got pink flowers; 3-24 got orange; and 3-3 got red. All of these colours matched the headbands they wore during their sports festivals.

The following blog was written on March 13

The actual day - 卒業式

And so, the day of the real deal finally arrived. I spent the morning visiting each homeroom, and snapped photos with some of the students. They were so cute, with a little flower pinned to their chest pocket. The girls were eager to take photos, while the boys had to be coaxed into hamming up for the camera. Typical?

I was slightly late that morning, due to parking inconveniences. Every day, I drive my little kei-car to school. I'm spoiled, in that it only takes a minute to drive from my pink apartment to my designated parking spot in the lot. So, I drove to the parking lot as per usual. And it was completely empty. I was thrown off, because I'm always the last teacher to arrive. I finally noticed the cars were all parked in the soccer field. So, I had to make a detour so that I could drive on a road cutting through rice fields... and then I could reach the soccer field like everyone else. Thanks for the head's up. Typical!

Mariko-sensei, my Japanese Teacher of English, was gorgeous in her kimono. She said it took a full hour to get dressed that morning. The rest of the staff was dressed in black suits. (The day before, one of my JTEs told me: “You do have a black suit, right?! Right?!” As usual, I always receive last-minute notice… but luckily, I brought a black suit from home). Kocho-sensei was rocking a cool penguin jacket.

The ceremony was pretty standard. The parents filed in, and took their seats. We sang the national anthem and the school song. (I had the lyrics to both tucked inside my program, so I was able to sing along). At precisely 10 a.m., as it was on the schedule, the graduates started proceeding up to the stage to get their diplomas. There was even a little projection screen on stage left, so that you could see the students’ faces as they bowed in front of kocho-sensei (principal). He had to bow at least 97 times to present each graduand with their diploma. That doesn’t count all the additional bowing we had to do throughout the ceremony. So much bowing.

Oh! One of the ni-nensei boys fainted in the second-last row. As kocho-sensei was reading out the names, we heard a loud thud coming from the back. Some of the teachers and the school nurse quickly rushed over to help him. I guess he was fine, because I saw him walking around after the grad ceremony. My sempai has explained that it's common for kids to faint during assemblies. I'm not surprised - they have to sit in a rigid position for hours! And the gym is not heated well. We have two huge orange heaters that are supposed to emit lots of heat. But I never feel it! So wack.

There were speeches, too. I don’t know who they were, and I don’t what they were saying. I did notice each speaker unfolded his/her notes from a special envelope. And when they finished, they slipped their speaking text back into the envelop and placed it in a basket on the table. One of the speakers included the kind gray-haired, bespectacled fellow from the Board of Education. He’s the one who I saw in his drawers that night we all went to a traditional Japanese inn for our bonenkai (end-of-the-year bonenkai).

For the bajillionth time, the students sang Auld Lang Syne in Japanese. The students sang a song to the graduating class. Then, the third-years sang “Tegami,” their touching farewell song. (Find it on Youtube!) This is when a lot of the girls started bawling. And I mean, bawling! It was so sad. (Not gonna lie – my eyes welled up with tears during “Pomp and Circumstance" yet again. When the graduates did their final procession down the aisle, I started tearing up again. I didn’t think I was so attached to these kiddos!)

After the ceremony, the students congregated outside. Each graduate proudly clutched a yellow flower, the Nichu diploma and their old pair of indoor Nichu shoes with the trademark red stripes. And then, they were gone.

The Villanuevas Visit Japan... Part II

Dec. 25 – Christmas Day

Back home, Christmas is filled with tons of celebratory hallmarks. Most shops and restaurants are closed for the day. But in Japan, it is pretty much business as usual. I was able to show my brother Motomiya’s downtown core. That is, the one quaint main drag.

For Christmas lunch, we went out for kaiten sushi in Nihonmatsu. In such restaurants, fresh sushi travels throughout the restaurant on a conveyor belt. I think my family thought it was interesting how you’re expected to order in Japanese restaurants. Basically, you yell “Sumimasen!” (Excuse me!) – and someone will rush over to get your order. I’m still getting used to the idea.

We went to Genki Sushi, which is simply your run-of-the-mill kaiten sushi, but I wanted to show my family where I spend many Tuesday night dinners. (I often go to “gossip sushi” on Tuesday nights with B., B., Hezza and G. It’s a nice time where they like to poke fun at me for not snowboarding. Apparently, I’m lame. Thanks). There was another gaijin (ie. foreigner) who kept smiling broadly in our direction. I wished him a Merry Christmas, since we’re both gaijin and all.

We also explored Koriyama. We ended up eating “shabu shabu” for Christmas dinner at the Big-I shopping centre. It was delicious, as per usual. And once again, we ran into the gaijin who ate by himself in Nihonmatsu. Turns out that he has lived in Japan for almost 10 years, and was originally from New Zealand. I wondered why he ate all by himself?

Dec. 26 – “It’s one of the three most beautiful views in Japan”

We hopped on the shinkansen for Sendai and Matsushima. The former is a city located about 30 minutes away on the shinkansen. It was also my first time there, so I really enjoyed seeing the hustle and bustle of such an urban city.

But we first headed to nearby Matsushima, which is known as “one of the three most beautiful views in Japan.” I forced my family to get on a ferry boat, despite the heavy snows that were pelting down on us.

It was ridiculously cold, but I wanted to see the Matsushima islands that peppered the oceanic landscape. We grabbed a quick lunch while sitting on traditional tatami floors. We then ventured back into the cold, where we walked to the Zuigan-ji. It was cold. That was all.

Dec. 27 – Ernest got his hair did

That day, we got kaiten sushi once again. We went to the restaurant tucked away in Eight Town, which is the convenient shopping complex near my apartment. (The local grocery store is called “Benimaru,” where everybody and their mother go after school. By now, many of my students have seen me roll into the store with my grubby ol’ Roots sweatpants. My bad.)
Anyways, Ernest’s birthday was coming. So, I got him what he wanted – a hair cut in Japan. With lots of gestures and terrible Japanese, I got him an appointment at a trendy hair salon in Koriyama. Mad skillz.

He came out looking pretty happy – phew! So, we got some pretty sweet purikura to commemorate the moment. One of my students was surprised to see my brother and I at the mall.

Dec. 28 – Tokyo-bound: Harajuku, Shibuya

For the first time in my recent memory, Motomiya received its first lasting snow. Clearly, it coincided with my family’s departure. I called for two cabs; we got the two female taxi cab drivers! I’ve never seen that back home.

It’s not really fun dragging your heavy luggage up from train to train, fyi. We finally made it to Tokyo, where we stayed in Ryogoku. It is the sumo area of Tokyo! Since we got there on a Sunday, we first explored Harajuku. That’s when all the Harajuku kids sit on the bridge near the entrance of the Meiji Jingu Shrine.

That night, we checked out tons of shops in Harajuku. RAWDRIP, the Ice Cream Store, SUPREME – we were there. I think that we grabbed some dinner at Pizza Express, the usual pizza join that my friends and I eat lunch when in Harajuku. To cap off the night, we enjoyed some coffee at the Starbucks that overlooks the infamous Shibuya crosswalk.

Dec. 29 – Eating like a sumo wrestler; Asakusa shrine.

As I’ve mentioned before, our hotel was in Ryogoku. There are tons of sumo stables in the area, where wrestlers are expected to eat, sleep, live and practice. My online research suggested that people have watched their early morning practices. I asked our hotel clerk to give them a ring – he refused. I tried calling myself to get an invite, but my Japanese is terrible. “Uh… watashi wa gaikokujin desu” was my opening remark (I am a foreigner.). Dude chatted with me in Japanese. When I asked for permission to watch a morning practice, he used his English skills to say: “No.” Rejected.

Ernest still wanted to eat Mos Burger, but I decided to take advantage of our location. We grabbed some lunch at a quaint little restaurant across the street from the train station. They served us chanko nabe, a stew that is commonly eaten by sumo wrestlers. It was aite. Mmm, let’s enjoy getting fat.

We spent the afternoon checking out the shrine in Asakusa. I was committed to getting my shuin-jo (a book…) stamped at every shrine. I think we ate lunch at Elephant Castle in Harajuku – it’s that Thai place where they play techno/house music

Dec. 30 – YO HO HO! Omedetou tanjobi, ototo! (Happy Birthday, Ernest!)

Ernest turned 21 when we were in Tokyo! Obviously, I set aside loads of time to further explore Harajuku for him – I believe that’s his favorite part of Tokyo. It’s where we found all types of shops. (BAPE, RAWDRIP, the Ice Cream Store, Supreme, etnies, etc.)

But we kicked off the day getting lost in Ueno. That was my first time in the area, and I didn’t understand the station manager’s directions. We stopped for lunch at McD’s, where I ordered my brother a “McPork.” It was McNasty.

We eventually explored some of the shrines and temples in Ueno, and even dropped by the infamous park. We also made our way to Akihabara, the electronics hotspot of Tokyo. No ridiculous purchases – just some blank CDs and new speakers for my laptop. Ernest continued his search for Calpis water, but none of the Akihabara vending machines could tempt his palate.

We made our way to Harajuku, and did more shopping. (Who knew I could get tired of Harajuku?! Ha.)

Birthday boy wanted sushi for dinner. So, we hit up a restaurant in the 109 shopping area of Shibuya. We split a platter of sushi. We saw the chef take a fish out of one the restaurants fish tanks.

We ended the night with some delicious birthday ice cream from Coldstone Creamery. Those ice cream makers always make me smile – they are super genki (enthusiastic), and enjoy singing. We heard them sing their version of the Snow White song: “Yo, ho, ho! It’s off to work we go!” I regret not asking them to sing Happy Birthday for Ernest – he would’ve been ridiculously embarrassed, haha.

Dec. 31 – Kicking off the New Year in Tokyo (TO BE CONTINUED)

Jan. 1 – Jan. 3 – Kyoto and Nara (TO BE CONTINUED)

The Kansai area (Kyoto, Nara) was the last leg of our trip. We checked out: Kinkaku-ji, Ryoan-ji and the Kiyomizudera. And the deer in Nara.


Jan. 4 -- All good things must come to an end (at the Keio Plaza). TO BE CONTINUED

The Villanuevas Visit Japan - Part I

This blog outlines my fam's first few days in Japan... (December 2008)

After a good night’s rest, I finally got the call. Dad was on a pay phone, saying that the Villanueva trio was getting the shinkansen into Koriyama on December 23. It was the morning after their expected arrival, but at least they had made it. The spent their first night in Japan in what Dad called a “cheap” hotel. That is, they stayed in the Narita Airport; their flight delays caused them to miss the last shink up to my prefecture.

My family spent their holidays in Japan with me from Dec. 23 to Jan. 5. I told everyone how my parents booked their flights online when they heard I got a spot on the JET Programme. The kicker? I still hadn’t accepted the position as an ALT, because I was waiting to hear the exact location of my placement. (When I heard that I was posted in Motomiya, Fukushima… it still took me a few weeks to send in my acceptance papers).

Anyways, my parents and brother left home on a very wintry morning as Canada faced “Snowmageddon.” All this snow caused their flights to be ridiculously delayed. I expected them on a Monday afternoon, but they arrived here the next day.
We all crammed into my little 1DKL, so it was a very tight squeeze but it worked. Basically, I have my bedroom that measures six tatami-mats; a living room of similar size; the kitchen/foyer; the bathroom; the unit bath/sink. They’ve heard me whine endlessly about the lack of heating in my apartment. When they slept over the first night, they immediately understood what I meant. I think I fed them curry and rice (a staple in any Japanese diet), and then we bought some snacks from the kombini. I think that’s when Dad first discovered the alcohol aisle in a convenience store. (We don’t have that back home).

December 24 – School Life

On their first full day in Fukushima-ken, I forced them to get up bright and early. We piled into Haruto Onegaishimasu (my kei-car), and made the one-minute drive to my base school: Motomiya Nichu.
First, I had my family slip on the fugly light brown guest slippers. I was surprised to see that many of my students were still weaving through the hallways, seeing as how winter holidays officially started the day before. The ichi-nensei kids whispered amongst each other, then would run up to me and say “HERRO!” They were constantly glancing at my family, so I was more than happy to introduce them.

We then headed up to the teacher’s room to say a quick hello. Kocho-sensei (Principal) invited us to his office for some green tea. Kyoto-sensei (vice-principal) and Mariko-sensei (my JTE – Japanese Teacher of English) joined us as well. We spoke in broken Japanese and English, with Mariko-sensei thankfully translating everything. Kocho-sensei mentioned that my Japanese has slightly improved! I remember my first day of school with him – we sat in mad awkward silence before he introduced me to the rest of the staff room.

I handed out Christmas cards and chocolates to the staff, and mentioned their omiyage (gifts) from Canada was being delivered later. I think that my family was awestruck by the sheer politeness of the teachers. When my family first came into the room, everyone stood up and started bowing.

We went for a quick walk throughout the school. As usual, it was really cold because the place isn’t heated. (We use old school kerosene heaters when class is in session). The gym was filled with kids doing their club activities (table tennis and basketball), so we dropped by to say hello. Ernest and I took a couple photos with the kids – it was pretty funny to have dozens and dozens of them swarm us.

As we were heading to my car, we accidentally interrupted the ongoing soccer practice. My other JTE (Sawafuji-sensei) happens to be the coach, so he stopped the drills and asked the boys to run over to us. Rei is one of my favourite ni-nensei boys – and he said in perfect English: “Good morning! Welcome to Motomiya Nichu!” They all did their bows; it was super kawaii. I wanted them to demonstrate their English skills, so we did morning greetings. Ya, I’m jokes. “Good morning, everybody! Good morning, Ms. Gemma! How are you today? I’m fine, thanks. And you? I’m fine, thank you.” So jokes.

We visited Iwane Elementary School for a few minutes as well. Kyoto-sensei let us go up to the roof of the school, where we got a pretty nice view of Motomiya. Only Ernest and I made a quick appearance at Gohyakugawa Elementary School, as Mom and Dad waited back at my apartment for the rest of their luggage to be delivered.

I think this was the first meal we bought from my favorite local burger joint – Mos Burger. (Ernest developed a strong liking to MOS. It is delish). And obviously, we saw Shirley and Brian drive past us while yelling from outside their windows. (Us three regularly eat at Mos Burger, so it was only fitting that we see them there).

We spent Christmas Eve dinner at Asahi Beer Factory with good friends (B., Shirls, Dan-kun) and good food. This was the first time my family experienced the wonders of nomihoudai /tabehodai(two hours of unlimited drinks and food). It was then followed by an evening of karaoke in Koriyama. I thought it was pretty funny that my supervisor had the beer garden on his cell phone’s speed dial; he made the reservations for us with ease. Nomihoudai and karaoke for Christmas Eve = you know you’re in Japan…

Let's enjoy English

I had dozens of students compliment me today.
"Hi, Gemma-sensei. You are the most wonderful in the universe!"
"You are more interesting than I am!"
"You are the most beautiful in Japan."

Granted, it was a speaking activity during English class. The students were busy reading prompts off their worksheets, in an effort to practice comparatives and superlatives once again. I made a fourteen-year-old boy giggle when I said, "Wow! You are taller than me." Precious.

I also made an effort to hang out with my san-nensei (third-graders) again. I haven't really had a proper class with them since late December, so I don't feel a great connection with them. It's a shame, because they're graduating in mid-March. I've heard them enthusiastically practice their farewell song, which reminded me how school life has such a major impact on their notion of self. They've spent their weekdays and weekends studying and playing at school; it's no wonder that they'll be crushed when they leave behind old teachers and friends.

At lunch, I ended up chatting with some of the third-grade boys. I found out what high schools they're hoping to attend, and other random stuff. I also learned that while they can't communicate freely in English, they have done a solid job at looking up dirty words. I was also reminded of a Sean Connery skit from Saturday Night Live, as these kids tried to talk with me. No, the pen is larger. Urgh.

I've got so much left to say right now,

but I'm slightly behind schedule with my blogging. I definitely want to share with you some of the highlights from two recent trips. They include the times I've spent with my family in Japan over Christmas and New Year's, plus the five-day Hokkaido holiday with the FuJETs. Those tales will come soon.

But for now, I want to jot down some touching moments in my life:

- I was at the local dollar store, and ran into one of my second-graders from Nichu. He bowed when he paid for his ice cream, and then he bowed as he said "Shee you!!" to me. For some reason, I thought it was simply darling when he carefully handed over his exact change to buy two cups of ice cream. I saw him run to the covered area of the shopping mall, and he split it with his friend.

- I heard a knock the other day. My neighbour and her youngest baby were bundled up at my door. She nervously smiled, and read an English message for me. She then handed the yellow slip of paper. She obviously used an Internet translation site, but it truly touched me that she went through some effort to communicate with me. She then handed me some "omiyage" - a variety of cakes from Sendai. Yummy! Little Shiogo was bundled up in his navy blue winter jacket - he stood there peering up at me. Seriously, he's a cute baby. He's only a year and two months old! Kawaii ne!

- I had to get my oil changed the other day. (I totally got ripped off, but that's my fault for not understanding Japanese. I kept agreeing to whatever Toshiki the gas attendant told me). While waiting in the garage, I was writing a to-do list in English. One of the ol' Japanese grandpas kept staring at my scrawl with some interest. I noticed he was wearing a shirt with some Engrish on it; and he just so happened to have the word "Canadian" embroidered on his green sweater. I used that as an ice breaker, and explained in Japanese that I am indeed Canadian. He then started asking me all these questions in Japanese. Unfortunately, I really couldn't understand a word he was saying. I think he has a Fukushima-ken accent. It was mad heavy.

- My kids at elementary school always brighten my day. Last time, two of the boys said "I love you very much-ey!" I melted. And my maniacal second-graders calmed down for five minutes when I offered to autograph their karuta cards.