Sunday, December 15, 2013

Late Year Antics


Fall Colors

I have written before that I bought a new camera and the reason why. My last one developed some technical issues and I needed to replace it, but that was not the whole story. A second factor also weighed in on my decision to make the purchase. November and early December are the time of year when the maple trees become bright orange and red, and I wanted a better camera to help me get the best shots possible. Something else I've come to realize is the importance of being in the right place at the right time. In a mountainous country like Japan the colors turn at different times depending on the altitude of the area and a person can maximize their opportunities to take photos if they plan their excursions carefully. It's a matter of visiting the good spots in an order that goes from higher to lower elevations.

Seasonal Color Changing Map
Other factors must be considered as well such as latitude, the amount of seasonal rainfall in the area, its proximity to the ocean, and the quality of the soil. This information is available at public libraries in almanacs, regional guides, encyclopedias and other books. I have used such resources to gather the relevant details, and with some success, predicted the optimum times to go to the popular viewing spots. Er...okay, I should stop right there. That last bit was a lie. I mean really, who visits libraries these days?

The truth is I go online. I open this one sightseeing website and check the live cam for a particular area. That's all there is to it. So thanks to the Internet I knew Nara Park was the place to be recently. It's a famous World Heritage Site with temples, hills and plenty of maple trees. And there's deer too. But they're not those timid types that hide from humans. It's the complete opposite. These deer have free reign over the park and act like they own the place. And if you find their arrogance off putting, well too bad, because the animals enjoy national treasure status and are protected by federal law. In days of old these deer were so revered that hurting or killing one was punishable by death. Of course modern day Japan isn't so barbaric--not like China per say. While that country is slowly getting better, it still doesn't take much for the Chinese government to execute someone. Committing theft or accepting bribes, for example, could get you the death penalty. And I'm pretty sure that if you travelled to the remote mountains of Chengdu province, tracked down one of the few remaining wild pandas, and then shot it Rambo style with an explosive point arrow, you'd be summarily executed (should the authorities catch you). The panda is China's national treasure animal and they're much more rare than deer, so it only makes sense that the government would take a hard stance when dealing with poachers and the like.

Do you really wanna hurt me?

There I go again getting off topic. I'm here to write about leaves, and by God, I will. I now recall that last year in the English text at my junior high school there was a story about two leaves--Freddie and Daniel. In the story, the leaves sprout from the same branch of a tree and enjoy the nice warm days. Then the seasons change from spring to summer and onto fall. Freddie and Daniel are excited to turn colors, but they soon become brown, and watch as other leaves are blown from the branch.

Here is an excerpt of the following part:

"What's happening?" they asked.
"It's time for the leaves to change their home," Daniel said. "Some people call it dying."
"Will we die?" Freddie asked.
"Yes," Daniel answered, "Everything dies."
"I won't die!" said Freddie.
But his friends started to fall one after another. Soon the tree was almost bare.
"I'm afraid of dying," Freddie told Daniel.
"We're all afraid of what we don't know," Daniel said. "But you weren't afraid when spring became summer, or when summer became fall. Changes are natural."
"Will we return in spring?"
"I don't know, but Life will. Life lasts forever, and we're a part of it," answered Daniel.
"We only fall and die. why are we here?" Freddie asked again.
Daniel said, "For the friends, the sun and the shade. Remember the breeze, the people, the colors in fall. Isn't that enough?"
That afternoon, Daniel fell with a smile.
Freddie was the only leaf left on his branch.

I really got a kick out of reading this story aloud in front of my students. I used different voices for each leaf. With Freddy, I employed a hesitant, childlike voice, and for Daniel, I gave him a deep, compassionate tone. I also threw in facial expressions for good effect.

Oh, and in case you are curious, here's the end of the story:

The first snow fell the next morning.
The wind came and took Freddie from his branch. It did not hurt at all.
As he fell, he saw the whole tree for the first time. He remembered Daniel's words, "Life lasts forever."
Freddie landed on the soft snow. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
He did not know this. But, in the tree and the ground, there were already plans for new leaves in spring.

Full edition
I later discovered that the story is a short version of a book called "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf." The children's tale serves as an allegory about life and death and is made accessible to young readers through the use of anthropomorphic leaf characters. But the message runs deep for kids and adults alike thanks to the author's depiction of life's interconnectedness and how it continues forward regardless of our place within it. From a scientific standpoint it is an easy view to substantiate. We need only to think of our DNA, for all organisms on Earth share a single ancestor, the proof of which is encoded in our genes. The real question then is where did life come from to begin with? That's likely something we will never know, and it's unfortunate because the answer is important to unlocking the great mystery of why we are here. But if you stop and think it through, does knowing really matter? As Daniel the leaf so eloquently described, life is about acknowledging our experiences as we are carried from one season to the next. Isn't that enough?

Now, here are a few more photos of the beauty that is fall time in Japan.

The leaves turn
Kiyomizu Temple
Nice focus
Through the trunks
My friend Dave
Billiken the Gold

Hello Kitty, Super Mario, Pikachu, these are some of the Japanese characters known around the globe. But for every one of them that exists, it seems twice as many characters have entered Japan from overseas. Mickey Mouse and Elmo are two examples, and they are both American which is where most these foreign characters originate. Another lesser known example is Billiken, a kind of fairy that is mischievous and weird looking. A high school teacher in Kansas created him in 1908 as a charm doll and he remains a fixture in the area. But I grew up on the west coast and didn't know about him until I came to Japan, after which I assumed he was another Japanese character.

Billiken statuette
Later on in Osaka, I learned that Billiken is a symbol of the city, and the Shinsekai district in particular. Several businesses have statues of him out front, and I'd seen my students carry around little Billiken keychains and stuffed dolls. At that point I was still thinking he was Japanese. Then one day I got bored at work and looked him up on Wikipedia. A simple ten second inquiry was all it took to reveal the truth. I was floored. The character was not only of foreign design, but he had come from my own country. I read on and discovered that his subsequent popularity in Japan was the result of a theme park in Shinsekai. To promote American culture the park used him as a mascot and he caught on among locals. But what is really amazing, is that over the course of the following century he never fell into obscurity.

School Mascot in Missouri
Anyhow, I catalogued this information into the miscellaneous trivia section of my brain and now share it with Japanese people from time to time. They of course find it difficult to believe. How could Billiken be from American they wonder. Then I tell them that their beloved donut chain, Mister Donuts also came from there, as did Lawson convenient store and the Sega video game company. Nothing is what it seems. But it's okay. We live in the present and not the past, and all that matters is the world of today.

These little exchanges make me feel wise and profound, for on top of confusing my Japanese friends, it surprises them that I know more about some aspects of their culture than they do. Well, just because a person is born and raised in a place does not mean they know why things are the way they are. In fact, culture is like a big iceberg afloat in the sea, and only the top that sticks out is easily understood. The rest is implicit in nature. So for the most part, people have only a subconscious grasp of how to behave and interact in their society, and for this reason they often can't explain to outsiders how or why something is appropriate. And I am the outsider here. For years I didn't get many a facet of Japanese culture. Others I rejected outright. Then I realized the problem was that I had too many biases stemming from my own culture.

To know another culture requires one to better understand their own. Living abroad helps to a degree because it takes us out of our natural environment and challenges us to identify and adapt to differences. But how much a person adapts is up to them. Some people don't put in the effort to learn the language, or they intentionally avoid certain aspects of the culture. It's a constant act of negotiation, finding your place between two worlds, and to be honest, it's very stimulating for me. I also have a strong sense of intellectual curiosity that compels me to try new things and look favorably upon change. And somewhere beneath it all is that desire to understand. Writing is good in this regard. I can reflect upon the chaos around me, and piece it together little at a time.


An expert in the drinking culture
Shared House

Years ago when I lived in Tokyo I took up residence at a shared house. The two-story building was like a college dorm. We each had our own rooms and shared the bathrooms, dining hall and kitchen area. The difference with a real dorm was that none of us went to school. We were all working adults, half of us foreign and the other half Japanese. At the time, the appeal to living in a shared house was the price. In Japan an apartment requires a large amount of cash up front. Owners want key money, a deposit and the first and last months' rent, and on top of that you might have to pay a service fee if you got the place through an agency. It all adds up to five or six times the cost of rent. Shared houses on the other hand usually ask for only a month's rent and small deposit. The other benefit of living in a shared house is the social scene. With so many people under the same roof it's easy to make friends and have fun together.

Well, I did the shared house thing for a year. It was a blast, and I felt like I was finally able to experience the dormitory lifestyle I had missed out in university. Then I left Tokyo for another town and from that point on I lived in a series of small apartments. That was until I moved back to a big city. When I came to Osaka I had to find a place right away. My plan was to stay in a shared house few months before relocating to an apartment, but I soon left the place on account of it being run down and infested with bed bugs. That led me to another shared house not too far away where I am now.

The first shared house
Over the course of my life I've lived in plenty of different buildings, and those experiences have given me an idea of what separates a good place from a bad one. Price and location are without a doubt the most important factors. My current shared house is only five minute walk from a major railway hub and the rent is reasonable for the area. Next up is size. In this category my place falls short. I have only the one room, but as far as shared houses go it is spacious and comes with a private bathroom. Continuing on, the third thing to consider is the state of the building. The one I'm in now is about thirty years old which is  good because it was built during the Japanese economic bubble when construction companies used the best materials. The walls are thick and solid and most noises don't pass through them. They also provide excellent insulation from the cold. With the bite of winter approaching that's certainly something I can appreciate.

Other building perks include a laundry room with dryers, a gym downstairs, and best of all, a common area that has a large kitchen and dining space. I find that having a nice area to cook encourages me to prepare food more often. In the past month alone I've made green Thai curry, gnocchi with tomato sauce, tuna pasta, beef stew, cookies, tacos, chili beans, yakisoba, curry udon and more. Plus it's great to eat at home instead of picking up ready made food at convenient stores or restaurants, and the difference is apparent in my waste line. Having a gym nearby helps too, or so I would think. I'm still using the one by my school because it has better facilities.


Gingerbread cookies
Japan's tallest building outside my door
The final thing that characterizes my shared house is the people who live there. According to the manager, our seven story building has 45 people. The majority are Japanese office slaves who spend their days working until late. They return in the evening, go straight to their rooms, and I hardly see them. Those that do hang out tend to be younger and have some interest in foreigners. Then there are the foreigners themselves. Sadly, only a few go to the common room to chitchat, and the place is more empty than not. I am trying to change that. At my previous shared house we had a good social scene going. We drank beer together, ordered Domino's pizza, watched movies and played video games. After I moved, another guy followed, and we've been luring others over one by one. As of now, we are four strong, and we plan to take over the lounge. No one really uses it much aside from cooking anyhow, and I figure it's only a matter of time before we monopolize the large screen TV for our own entertainment purposes.

Takoyaki party in the lounge
Christmas

Centuries ago, Jesuit missionaries from Europe attempted to spread the word of Jesus Christ in Japan. They had a fair amount of success at first, but unfortunately for them, the Shogun came to understand the threat posed by foreign dogmatic views and thus expelled the missionaries from the country in 1612. That put an effective end to the influence that the Judeo-Christian belief system had over the Japanese people, and in its place, Buddhism flourished into the modern era.  Now only a very small percentage of Japanese are Christian. Well, having said that, the country still celebrates Christmas, and seeing how their version of it has no political or religious underpinnings, I like to think of it as a purely commercial holiday. It begins after Halloween when lights go up around the city center. They hang from street posts and decorate businesses, and sometimes form elaborate displays that cover a large area. The Japanese call this "illumination" and it is one of the defining characteristics of the Christmas season. But this does not necessarily carry over to residences and it is still uncommon for people to decorate the outside of their houses.

Jesuit Francis Xavier in Japan
Illumination at a train station
Christmas trees have also become a symbol of the holiday, and again they are on display in malls and businesses. Santa Claus too is added into the motif. He looks the same as the American version and people call him Santa-san. Surprisingly, Japanese children believe in him up until they are around 5 years old, and they sometimes get presents. But nothing too fancy. Their real gift comes a week later after the new year.  That's when parents and grandparents give out otoshidama-- gift money that kids can spend in the coming year.

Big tree
As for adults, they might exchange gifts. And young couples see Christmas Eve as a night to go on a date. Because many people are out and about, restaurants get good business and the love hotels fill up early. Families on the other hand tend to stay at home to have a Christmas dinner. These meals almost always include fried chicken and a type of sponge cake with whip cream and fruit on top. KFC created the fried chicken and Christmas connection with a successful marketing campaign they did in the 70s. Other restaurant chains followed suit, making it a popular choice, and to prepare for the huge holiday demand, they take orders months in advance. Turkey, however, is nearly non-existent and Japanese people seldom eat it any time of the year.


Colonel Sanders wants your holiday money
Aside from the unusual food, the other great Christmas travesty is that it's not a proper holiday. The 24th and 25th are workdays that sit awkwardly between the two national holidays of the Emperor's birthday and New Year's. So since arriving in Japan I've worked many Christmas days, and at this point I've grown to accept the custom. To take comfort I remind myself that overall Japan has more national holidays than America. Oh, and I get plenty of school holidays. That allows me to often do the thing I enjoy most which is travel. I can't complain really.

Faking It

As a general rule it's not good for teachers to be dishonest with their students. For one, it is unethical, and second, it destroys a teacher's credibility if they get caught in a lie. And yet I do it everyday. You see, my work life revolves around this one fabrication I have buried myself beneath. But please don't think poorly of me. I do it for the good of my students. Allow me to explain. The lie is that I can't speak Japanese, and since my students have no reason to doubt me,  they are forced to communicate in English when we talk. It's the first time I have done this with school children. Even when I first arrived in Japan I had some Japanese ability, and I thought it would be good to use it to get to know them better. The problem was my students wouldn't try to use much English because it was easier for them to fall back on Japanese. In retrospect I should have been firmer with them. I mean, what's the point of my being at a school if I don't help the students practice?

This year, by playing the linguistically challenged foreigner, I'm surprised by the amount of English my students use when given no alternative. The words don't always come right away but with some patience and encouragement on my part, the kids manage to get their point across. Or even better, they make a collaborative effort to communicate. For example, the student who is the most talkative may be horrible at English, so he or she will ask their shy but studious friend how to say something in English and then relay the words to me in a jumbled up yet somewhat intelligible manner.

My refusal to use Japanese does have its drawbacks as well. I'm at times unable to convey certain information regardless of how hard I try. Or it takes too much time, and I think to myself how much faster the kids would get something were I to just explain it in Japanese. But I can't have it both ways. If I want the kids to speak English, I too must make an effort. Anyhow, the true weight of my lie came to bear when I coached a group of my students for a stage performance in English. It was all part of a contest for junior high school students in the Osaka area. Each participating school had four girls act out the same script about a boyfriend and girlfriend who are lying to each other. In the script the characters both say they've never dated before when in fact they both have, and during a visit to a cafe in Kyoto, a series of unusual events exposes the truth.

Only one of the four girls in my school's group had stage work experience. So I had to go over the basics. Things like speaking from the gut to project a louder voice, and for them to speak in the direction of the audience at all times. To do the latter I needed to arrange them in positions where they could act out the script without ever having to talk to the rear. After that I made them work on their acting skills. The script ran the characters through moments of happiness, sadness, anger, shock and desperation, and I wanted them to exaggerate each emotion in their facial expressions, body language and tone of voice. It was not easy for them but with practice they gradually became better. The same went for their English. That was the area they struggled in most. At the beginning, when they first memorized their lines, their pronunciation, timing and intonation we're completely off. Rather than try to correct all their mistakes at once, I had them focus on one or two at a time, and in that manner got them through most by the end of the two week rehearsal period.

Another school play
The entire time I coached the group I used English. This was of course a challenge for me. I had never tried teaching people to act before, and speaking only in English limited how I could articulate my instructions. For me to be understood I had to often rely on simple directives and gestures. But I shouldn't discredit my students. The four girls volunteered for the contest because they had an interest in English and spoke it well for their grade level. And they put their complete faith in me, doing everything I asked of them, in the exact way I told them.

At the final rehearsal I watched with pride as the girls executed a flawless performance. I knew then that they were ready. However, fourteen other schools had entered the competition and I wondered how my students would stack up. The contest was that next day. I should have gone with the girls to cheer them on but I had already made plans to visit a mountain temple outside the city. Yes, I know. Shame on me. My students should be of a higher priority than a weekend photo outing.

The following Monday, as soon as I arrived at work, the other English teacher came up to me in a flurry. She told me the girls had placed third and seemed very happy by the fact. As for the two groups that did better, they had succeeded because they'd used one of the supporting characters in a larger comic relief role. How could I have been so blind I thought. The comic relief character is a staple of stage work, and even the dreariest of plays employ them. I was a fool to overlook such a thing. But again, everyone was happy in spite of the fact.

School lunch
During lunch break the girls came to the teacher's room to thank me personally. They showed me their certificate and I told them how proud I was, and that they should continue to use their English every chance they have. Then later in the day after I had finished a class, I was walking in the hallway when one of the girls came up from behind. "Mr. Rodriguez," she called out, stopping me in my tracks.

"Yes?"

"I want to say something," she said a bit embarrassed by her own forwardness. "I could not act well before. You helped me to be better." She then bowed, and added, "Thank you for being a great teacher." And without another word she stood upright and walked away. I watched her go, and as I did, I felt a rise in my chest.

For someone who has taught English for 12 years, its rare that I still have moments of deep job satisfaction. The way my students are always coming and going has desensitized me to any real emotional attachment and I kind of just go through the motions, doing what I can while I can without a clear idea of how my actions will shape the future of those I teach. And in the case of my Japanese students, I'll admit, I fear my efforts may have little if any impact. The reason is that Japanese adults often forget their English within a few years of finishing school and it's as if they had never studied it to begin with. Then I get this one student thanking me in the hallway, and it feels that my work is still worthwhile, and moreover, that I've made a life better if even in a simple way.

Well, in March at the end of the academic year, I thought I might speak Japanese to my students. How cool would that be? Me blowing their adolescent minds by tearing down the very illusion I'd worked so hard to create and maintain. But now I've though better of it. Allowing myself that one conceit would only take away from the efforts and progress my students have made. So I've decided to finish up my contract the same way I began it--as a liar.

What it's all about


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