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.