The End of Things to Come

Today, Fujita showed me the new yearbook for my graduating seniors.

I've always prided myself on being the sort of person who can let go of anything, but now... well, I find it more than difficult to do so. I simply don't want to.

However, my feelings on the matter are immaterial.

The end is coming for the teachers as well as the students, and I'm not sure if everyone is aware of it at all. The way Japanese schools are, likely half of our teachers will transfer, and the Togi Senior High that I've come to love will be gone, vanished as surely, and as eagerly my third-year's moved on to their adult lives. I gave my students all sorts of lectures on moving on, and the different ways that people deal with graduating and growing up. I am a hypocrit.

The photos in the book are, for lack of a less cliched word, bittersweet. In the class photos, Shota is the only boy who bothers to smile. Meccho, Misa, Yuka and Hayaka join him. On the next page is the Student Council, all of them looking silly with Tetsuya in the middle, staring straight ahead with the serious face of a politician. His hair was shorter then it is now, and realize that I never knew him then. Fujii's face is as square as ever in the Basketball clubs photo, and Kyousuke is looking into the lens like a model with unwitting seduction. The Music Club, a band consisting of three clarinets, a bass clarinet, a tuba, and percussion are holding up their instruments in mock excitement. Fujita looks like he's the only one enjoying himself. On another page, stands Bill in front of a chalkboard holding a book open with his right hand, a piece of chalk in his left, and doing his usually overly enthused smile while trying to do a peace sign.

Today, I asked Okada that when she leaves if we could still be friends. She laughed, but she did not answer.

Oops, Ouch, Friends, and Dishwashers.

I've discovered that in my stay here in Japan that it hardly matters where I live, as long as I have electricity and internet. That being said, there are a few things I miss.

Firstly, I miss the words "oops" and "ouch". Today, the math teacher next to me said it when he dropped his wallet, and I swooned when I heard it. I tried to tell him how happy I was to hear it, but he didn't really understand. We just talked about other words people may say when they drop something, most being curse words. I love the innocence of the word oops. The Japanese are more literal, and their best translations tend to put the blame squarely on them. The best translation is machigaita which literally means "I made a mistake". Is oops just so much better, and amenable to all sorts of situations? This also goes for "ouch", which is itai in Japanese. This word means "it hurts", and is only for physical pain. I miss people just saying "ouch" when they don't like something.

I also miss my dishwasher. The reason is agiven. It's very hard to keep a clean house if you're lazy, a notoriously clumsy cook, and don't have a dishwasher.

Lastly, I miss people I didn't think twice of back home, and I don't think any of them know who they are.

But right now, in an effort to make me less homesick for these simply things, I'm just going to make my students say "ouch" and "oops" and keep correcting them until they do. English class is all about me, after all.

It Is Imagined

Apparently, my car isn't broken.

Three weeks of horrifying sounds I suffered, I finally take it in and I'm asked "why the hell did you take it in the first place?"

The noises have stopped...

Japan is indeed a mystfying place.

Japan at Random

Well, I was lazy and decided not to write about some pretty big events, so enjoy the compilation.

1. Nara and Kyoto

Last weekend I went with Shan and Perry to Nara to meet up with my old friend from college, Kristi, and hung out with some deer in the snow. I left my memory card at home like an idiot, so I don't have any pictures, however, my actual memory has some pretty vivid images that I'll likely not forget.

It was snowing frenetically, dancing about the tall structures of the temple and in front of the Daibutsu. The deer, hungry and exhausted from the cold, assailed us for sustenance, which we gave warily.

Now there's a face everyone want to take home to their mother...

I keep telling myself that it's good my camera didn't work because now I have memories that no one else can share in, on a special day. Not many tourists get to see Nara in the snow, and especially not in the sort of day long storm we encountered it in.

Word to the wise: Everyone warns of how pushy the Nara deer are, and it is not a joke. However, I think you have to go to experience it. We watched a woman with a MacDonald's bag in her hand running on her high heels through the park with a herd of deer trailing behind her. We wanted to help, but we could think of nothing aside from putting ourselves in the same situation so we let be eaten alive on the pavement. Naw, I kid... Turns out if you run long enough, the deer give up.

2. Broken Car

I'm not sure what's wrong with it. I think it's likely that my bad driving has killed my car, although I am more inclined to believe that it is a conspiracy so complex profound that I cannot even begin to fathom the depths of it. Why my car?

Bill smirked and said "I told you not to buy an old car." His triumph is short-lived when I tell him that he has to take care of it. Most Japanese words for the car are in katakana so I don't suspect the vocabulary is too difficult (i,e blinker is winkaa, clutch is kurachi), but I'm thinking that perhaps the idler arm is not one of those. Bill doesn't seem to think so at least, but he doesn't strike me as the knowledgable type when it comes to cars. Not that I am, naturally, but I've been forced to listen to Car Talk on NPR for nearly all my life every Saturday because of my Dad. That does lead to some theoretical knowledge. Of course, me thinking that it's the idler arm has nothing to do with Car Talk, but instead what my Dad suspects. But, I like to pretend like I know what I'm talking about. That is, right up until that fateful moment when someone actually believes and me probes further and I flounder about as I make something up.


3. Japanese Lessons

I am officially taking Japanese lessons now, and my first lesson didn't bode well... It's my fault really. I should be at the level of class I'm taking, but I never studied Japanese in College, in light of the fact that I was a Political Science major, so now I find myself looking at things I know I should remember and wondering at what they are.

Nevertheless, I've been studying (and somewhat enjoying it), but I am worried about my next class. The teacher's switch every week, and my friend Rachel won't be going to class so it will just be me, alone, with the notoriously strict teacher. Eep! I'm working very hard to let her know that I can do it! But... dekiru kana... (I wonder if I can do it...)

I've been accosting my poor co-workers left and right, asking if my sentences using my new grammar points are right. Yosh, Ali! You can beat Rachel!

Why do I want to beat Rachel? Because she was so damn cocky the first class (it was her second). She had a whole week to study what we were doing, and I was trying to figure it out while they were talking about it. And not only that, she had Davin's old book with all of his notes and English translations. That is something that one shouldn't be cocky about... In addition to that, while I was filling out my form to take the class, she got to read the passage we were going to discuss for ten minutes. I, on the other hand, had two seconds before the teacher started to pepper me with questions.

Fukohe! (Unfair)

I'm trying not to complain, because what is done is done, but I find that venting my frustration is best. Well, that, and kicking ass next time. Ali... you are so freaking uncharitable...

Alison Danger Baumgartner

I have a terrible habit of just sitting around my house on my days-off, so I decided at about one o'clock, after fruitlessly trying to get a hold of a few friends back in the States, to wander north. So, I saddled up my 1996 Toyota Corsa and turned down a perfectly safe, wide road following the signs that lead to Seikinohana. The road quickly turned into a winding path through parts of Togi that looked as if they were from the 1930s. I could find no places to pull over to take pictures, so that description shall have to suffice. The signs said that Seikinohana was only 11 km away, so I expected to be there in under 15 minutes. Unfortunately, at the Speed-Racer-like 30 km an hour the journey took much, much longer. As always, this is the problem with Japan. You may only be 1 km away from something, but the twisting geography makes it a full 4 km.

I began to become worried after thirty minutes, wondering if I were going in the correct direction. However, narrow roads being as they are, I could find no places to turn around, so I continued. But then! A sign! I had found it! But underneath that sign that wearily points in the direction I should go, is a rope with another sign that says I cannot enter. However, I didn't come there just to be turned away. I needed exercise! I needed natural beauty! My apartment has no windows that I can open (the hazards of living on the ground level only one foot off of the main road), so I needed a good stare at something beautiful.

So, I parked at an abandoned bus stop and snuck under the roped lines in between me and the scenery. The building that clearly sold omiyage (souvenirs) at one point was abandoned, with plastic models of food littered about the place, and some disturbingly old looking boxes of Camembert cheese. It looked as if a mass exodus had happened in under a few minutes and nothing important came with.

I walk around the building and realize then why the signs are up. The building is fall off of the cliff. I know I shouldn't have, but I explored further. Off to the right, I found an abandoned shrine (my pictures of it were out of focus) with its contents strewn about the place and the screen doors sideways. One supporting column lay on its side at the bottom of the stairs. I continued down this path and found that the asphalt abruptly stopped and there nothing but sheer cliff and tree roots sticking haphazardly out. Prudently, I turned back.

An abandoned food vender.

The other way proved just as daunting, but well worth the trip. Seikinohana, it turns out, is a rare sandstone formation. Unfortunately, with only my zoom lens, it was difficult for me to get any good pictures, but these were among the best:

Honestly, the whole experience was quite horrifying, yet inexplicably profound. I found myself just staring at places paths had once been, mesmorized by the transience of everything, and yet terrified of it.

When I could take no more, I ran back to my car and returned home.

The next day, I'm told that Seikinohana is famous for suicides. "Go up to the top of the hill," Fujii said, "and you will feel like someone is pushing your back." I went to that hill, and I still remember how scared I was. I thought, and still think, it was because I knew the land I was standing on was not sturdy, and the bridges likely to fall at any time. But now, I'm wondering if that truly were it.

Japan's Unappreciation

I may not be a real teacher, no matter how much Bill tries to tell me I am (but I suspect it's because he wants to stop taking responsibility for my actions), but I know that teacher's are unappreciated.

The biggest hint: when the students leave, they turn off the heat in the building. We've had half-days this week, so the students return home to study while the teachers remain to "work". It's not so bad... the first hour.

The Tough Road Ahead

I've just been informed that I will only have 16 students for the International Course next year, but I will unfortunately have 30 students for 1-1. This means I will only have 16 people that actually want to study English next year, and therefore only one class, but I will have two classes of 1-1 to torture me horribly.

I hear next yearis the worst disciplined class to ever come into Togi. I wonder if they are exaggerating or not.

Photographic Evidence

The Aquarium at Coex

The Shamanist Temple in Seoul

The Arts district in Seoul