Snapshots of the Week

After a grueling 8 whole hours of work on Monday, projecting my voice repeatedly to get the 1-2nd graders attention and begging for some response from the horomone-fueled shy 5-6th graders, I got a well-deserved 24 hours off today for the sake of the autumnal equinox.

Thank the deities that Japan honors the seasons, especially if it gives me time off. Upon asking a neighbor, I learned that the day off is usually devoted to cleaning up one's family gravesite. With the Obon festival last month dedicated to to the same thing, I'm starting to get the impression that autumn in Japan is a time of reflection on what has passed and is passing.

Which is really not unlike America's celebration of Halloween, formerly All Hallows Eve, even with all of its hyped-up consumer-oriented products. In fact, Halloween seems to be a big celebration here, if not in the authentic and casual trick-or-treating format of my childhood then in an imported special-cultural-event: Halloween-party form. The other ALTs started talking about Halloween costumes soon after I arrived. There are a few big Halloween parties on the island that all of the ALTs are invited to, and we're expected to show up in costume.

And now, for brevity, a recap of the past week through snapshots:

--the look of incredulity by a 4th-grader who came over after finishing her lunch (I was still working on my rice and the sesame-cucumber-bean-sprout salad) and told me what long eyelashes I have.

--More family picture responses: my father has graduated from being "really cool" to "like Spiderman" and "no, no, he's more like the Terminator!" ... the kids seem to be really impressed by his stance in the picture I show them.

--thanking the heavens that my school-lunch piece of fish came cooked and lacking the head but still mangling the flesh with my chopsticks. Looking around at the 2nd graders I was eating with and realizing that my chopstick stills were only slightly worse than some of theirs. Only the girl sitting to my right seemed to have mastered the skill of removing the bones in one smooth motion; the rest of us ended up with flakes of fish everywhere, bones mixed in. In our defense, it was particularly overcooked, dry, and difficult to work with.

--wandering around today at the "Family Park" in Mine with some of the other island ALTs. Trying to start a fire for BBQ in a special BBQ pit with charcoal and lighter fluid. Failing. Rummaging around in the nearby groomed woods area for random sticks and leaves. Trying to use them for fuel. Failing. Tearing out a few non-essential pages from the back of a book to use as starter fuel. Failing. Being rescued by some park workers who show up with special gear (high-intensity mini-torches, really, plus shavings of what looked like white lard to keep the fire going long enough to catch the charcoal) and set us up at one of the BBQ tables. They do everything, including show us how to fan the fire. Give us a Chinese-style paper fan. Adam furiously fans the mini-flames with the Chinese fan while Rose and I dig out our Japanese-style fold-out fans. The three of us fan furiously while Joe laughs hysterically at the sight and takes pictures.

--also at the park today: climbing up a hill and discovering something one would only see in a tropical locale: a fake-grass turf hill for sliding. I dipped the bottom of my sled-- identical to the stubby plastic kind one would use in snow-- in the vat of oil provided to make the sled more slippery, climb aboard at the top of the fake green hill, and push off screaming and laughing.

--another slide moment: a giant Dragon-shaped slide, similar in scope to a water-slide, at the park. One sits on a foam mat which slides over horizontal spinning metal bars on the decent. Getting half-way down my first run, gaining quite a lot of momentum, and realizing there was a massive spider web strung up across an upcoming section with a spider the size of my palm resting in the web. Shrieking and lying as flat as possible to swoop beneath the web. Dubbing the slide "The Dragon Slide of Doom."

--later, wandering over to the river-estuary-- any body of water on the island is never far from the sea, so it's all salty-- wading in on some steps, trying to coax the schools of tiny fish into showing some interest. Joe had them nibbling at his toes. I wasn't successful, but on returning to my shoes on dry ground discovered a small crab had taken up residence under the sandal straps. Had to gently inform him the spot wasn't open for rent.

--Cool-kendo-outfit update: I was very close to putting in an order for kendo gear at yesterday's practice, including the traditional clothing (better to sweat in authentic garb instead of standing out more by being the only one in generic work-out gear, right?)-- and had almost completed the order, done by my kendo instructor over his cell phone, when he handed his phone to me. Taking it from him and realizing they needed my height-- in centimeters. Totally spacing on all of the conversions. Feeling like an idiot to not know my height in Japanese. I do now, though: ~164 cm. The clothes will be ordered tomorrow during the next practice!

--While the kids were changing out of their gear during the end of kendo practice, one of the coaches came over to me and tried to explain some of the history and purpose of kendo, in addition to how to bow correctly in different circumstances (all ritualized part of kendo). Honestly, I didn't understand that much. I got that knowing why I do/want to do kendo is very important, and I struggled to not blurt out that it was mostly the coolness factor (because, frankly, there ~is~ more to it... the repetitive practicing of different movements looks meditative, and yelling is an important part too. It's fairly socially unacceptable to yell anywhere for whatever reason in Japan-- well, except perhaps for going on scary rides or down slides, i.e. my above excess pleasure in discovering the ones at the park-- but it is apparently expected in kendo practice at the same instant of striking one's opponent or practicing a strike. Good opportunity, then, to vent some stress). I'm afraid that the kendo coach said a great deal more, all of it said very quickly and in very manly speech, that I didn't understand at all. I hope it wasn't that important.

... more updates to come as they become available :)