Before my beard gets destroyed...

...know this: tomorrow I will be Santa Claus.

To mask, or not to mask?

Another kid at my school was out with the flu today. In the morning report, I heard them remarking to one another that it was because he was so bad at remembering to wear a mask. Everyone agrees on this: a gauze mask is the most effective way to guard oneself against the flu virus. As I listen in on this conversation, my expression is neutral, but my heart scoffs with all the scoffiness I can muster. I like to consider myself above all this foolery with masks.

Then I hear my name. I hate it when they do this: talk about me while I'm sitting right there, and then nobody bothers to explain to me why I'm being talked about. But, this time, I've got enough context to decipher the gist of what they're saying.

Basically, I'm the only person at my school who isn't wearing a mask at all times. I tried it for a while, just to keep others happy, but the truth about masks is: they're nasty. They're itchy and they make breathing difficult, so, at least in my case, that means that I'm constantly adjusting them. With my hands. So the germs on my hands are easily passing to my face--to my mouth and nose and eyes and all those places that I'm usually very careful to not touch while I'm trying to avoid getting sick.

But if everyone in Japan is obsessed with wearing surgical masks to stay healthy during cold and flu season, then there must be some evidence demonstrating their effectiveness, right? In all my perusing of the internets, I was unable to find a single article or study affirming that these types of masks do much of anything to keep a healthy person from getting sick. An article in the New York Times cites research presented at the Interscience Conference on Antimicrobial Agents and Chemotherapy in San Francisco. Researchers concluded:

Surgical masks are designed to trap respiratory secretions (including bacteria and viruses) expelled by the wearer and prevent disease transmission to others. Surgical masks are not designed to prevent inhalation of airborne particles.

I wish there were a means for me to present this argument to the teachers who eye me and my uncovered face suspiciously as I pass them in the halls every day.

I'm left with a bit of a moral dilemma. Is it better to stand my ground as a person who doesn't come from a culture where it's normal to wear a gauze mask in public when you're trying to keep from getting sick? I mean, not only are they incredibly uncomfortable, but there's no scientific evidence that they're actually helpful! However, I am living in their country, and if wearing a mask makes them feel better about me, should I just bury my pride and go along with it?

When it doesn't go against my moral principles, I always do my best to be culturally sensitive and to not offend the people around me with my flamboyant gaijin ways. Eventually, I suppose I'll just have to cave and go along with it.

Who turned off the warm?

It's the fourth of November and suddenly we're in the throes of winter. There was ice on the roof and on the ground this morning. Still, I mounted my bicycle and made my late start to work, with fleece-lined gloves and wool socks that, despite their earnest efforts, could not keep my fingers and toes from going numb by the time I reached school.

Naturally, the school nurse has made an announcement that the best way to guard against swine flu contagion is to make sure every corner of the building is well ventilated. So, despite the bitingly frigid air, every window in every classroom and hallway must be open at all times. Of course, the school nurse issues such an edict while she gets to spend most of her day moving cosily between her office and a warm spot behind her desk in the teachers' room. But I'm not one who deserves to complain. These days it seems, with my classes being canceled left and right, I spend the overwhelming amount of my time at work in the teachers' room, shuffling nervously through the drawers of my desk as I rack my brain for something to do. Such is the life of a foreign English teacher in Japan.

I'd love to write more, but my fingers are so numb from the cold that it took me, like, ten minutes just to write this sentence. Good night, everyone. And sleep warmly.

The last of the Moh-kans

On Thursday evening I received the startling news that the city of Moka's teacher-exchange program with its sister city in Glendora will come officially to an end after the expiration of my contract in July, 2010. In keeping with Japanese etiquette, I refrained from making any major announcements of the news until after our official meeting with the board of education on Friday afternoon. I made mention of it only to one of my English teachers, at a moment when I had a chance to pull her aside and tell her privately. Naturally, I prefaced everything with: "This is still a bit of a secret, so please don't tell anyone until next week!" After little more than thirteen months since my arrival in this country, I marvel sometimes at just how Japanese I can be.

The city of Moka made the decision to end the current AET exchange program on the grounds of increasing financial difficulties. In light of the struggling economy, it makes more sense for the local board of education to spend a great deal less money by hiring AETs through a private agency. There are currently three AETs from this agency already working at junior high schools in Moka. They make considerably smaller salaries and live in much smaller apartments than we sister-city AETs do, all the while doing essentially the same job. In consideration of the present tightness of the education budget, it certainly seems that these funds could be put to more practical use. Many of these things have been starkly apparent since my first month in Moka. Honestly, the BOE's decision to outsource all their AETs did not come as much of a surprise. The real surprise, in fact, was that they didn't do it a year ago.

So what's in store for the five remaining sister-city AETs as we face what are, unequivocally, our last months living in the quiet, rice-paddy encircled, slightly xenophobic, but generally pleasant little city of Moka? That's not a question that is easily answered. Joe is looking into teaching with the JET Program, Doug, Yves, and Josiah have all mentioned interest in working in another country, and me? I guess it's time for me to start thinking more seriously about graduate school.

In the meeting where we were given official notice that our contracts would not be renewed next summer, our supervisor told us, "This is your last time to do everything, so make it your best." I'm not sure exactly how this advice will play out in my decisions over the next nine months, but I hope that I will approach my job and life in Japan with a positive outlook, cherish each experience, and not miss out on any opportunities.

Sports Month

I don't really like sports.

But most people do. And the Japanese are not exempt. And fall is a big time for sports. September 5th rang in the new semester with the school Sports Day (運動会). The entire last month has been chock-full of training and practice for the inter-school athletic competitions that run for three days and cancel out two full days of regular classes. And, in a couple of weeks, we'll have a public holiday devoted simply to health and fitness (体育の日), and who's going to complain about that?

Personally, I've enjoyed cheering my students on in all their athletic endeavors for the past month. It's a much more interesting perspective from the sidelines than it was a year ago, when I was still convinced that all my students looked exactly the same and all their names sounded exactly the same and learning to tell them apart was flat-out impossible and I should just give up now. Yes, Japanese kids still look a lot more alike than American kids, and their names still do sound the same; but now I really can put names and personalities with their uniquely recognizable faces, and my heart goes with them each time they swing at a baseball or race toward a finish line.

I got into the spirit of the season and went with a sports-themed English bulletin board for September. And the response was favorable. I actually had a student make the point of telling me that she thought the information on my board was very interesting! That's never happened before! I guess I'm finally getting to know my audience.



For this bulletin board: I polled my third-year students earlier this year to find out their favorite sports, subjects, and musical groups, so I made a pie chart demonstrating the most popular sports at Yamazaki J.H.S. Then I went online and found data stating the top three most popular sports in different countries, knowing that some of these were going to be sports that my students had never even heard of. I also printed out pictures of people from the countries playing these sports. I mounted all of this information in front of a large world map. Ta-da!

Saying Goodbye

I had the privilege of attending the pool-closing ceremony at one of my elementary schools yesterday, during one of my regular visits. The event marked the end of an important summer pastime as the activity now passes officially into hibernation until next July. The entire school (no less than seventy-some students with the teachers and staff) gathered barefoot around the edge of the pool and hung their heads solemnly in memory of the times they’d had there over the last two months.

The principal opened the service with a few somber words, encouraging the mourners not to be too downhearted about the passing of their beloved swimming pool. She spoke of other sports that they would enjoy in the upcoming months—sports better suited to the autumn and winter weather. She congratulated the congregation on their achievements this summer, and encouraged them to find consolation in training hard for the upcoming Sports Day.

Next, six students—one representative from each grade level—lined up along the deep end of the pool, the bright blue waters spread out longways before them and reflected off their similarly moist eyes. One by one, they said a few words of their own.

The first and second-grade students kept it short, stating simply that they’d had fun swimming this summer. The third-grade student shared how he’d broken his former time on the 100 meters, and a girl from the fourth grade reminisced about the fun games she and her classmates had played. The fifth-grade girl, on her turn, stepped forward and recited a short speech detailing her enthusiasm for the fun times she anticipated having in the pool next year when it reopens. And the boy from sixth grade, with head bowed and shoulders quaking ever so slightly, lamented that this had been his last time to swim in the pool at elementary school.

All gazed stoically across the vibrant blue rectangular expanse, knowing that, within the span of their yet brief lives, they were witnessing the end of an era: the school maintenance man had already pulled the plug on the filtration system. In a month the vibrant blue would give way to a rich and marshy green, and the pool, in the height of its glory, would exist only as a fond memory in their tender little minds.

At least, that is, until next summer.



So long, fair swimming pastime: gone before I ever had the chance to appreciate you. You brought so much joy into the lives of those around you. I only regret that I didn’t get to know you better. Next time, I won’t let you get away so easily.

Back!

A sudden glare of sunlight tinged blue as it's filtered through the curtains and the paper paneling of my bedroom window. My bare feet on the tatami floor. A bowl of day-old yakisoba reheated in the microwave for breakfast. Tea.

So begins the second day of my second contract-year in Japan.

It's Sunday morning, but I'm not getting ready for church: the airline left one of my bags behind at LAX, and it will be delivered sometime today between nine and twelve o'clock. While I wait I'll attempt to coax my life slowly into order with a bit of cleaning, organizing, and, of course, blogging.

Already, this year promises to be markedly different from last. Jennifer came to the decision over summer break that she would not return for a second year. She's here now, packing and internet-job-searching and saying goodbye to friends and thereby attempting to coax order into her own life. In a few days she'll be gone and I will be roommate-less.

August provided a much-needed break for me. It was fantastic to be around friends and family, to see where they are in their lives and to receive their words and prayers of encouragement. It was invigorating to be in America, too: to talk loudly in public, strike up conversations with strangers, eat bread and cheese from Trader Joe's, and go to bookstores where nearly all their stock was in my language. The three weeks I spent in California provided fuel for my long under-fueled personal flame. I'm grateful.

This year promises new challenges--with no longer having the support of a roommate who shares my Christian-based outlook on the world--along with familiar challenges--the tedium of my job, language difficulties, and the general and ever-present struggle for "community." But I'm also approaching the next eleven months with a renewed sense of hope. I have great enthusiasm for friendships developed last year that promise to deepen and grow over the next. And the creative outlets of music and art, greatly untouched in past months, still await utilization. I'm planning a birthday party for two weeks from now. Everyone can come. You can come, too. Check the facebook event for details.

Over the next eleven months, please pray that my relationships with the teachers and students at my school might be enriched, and that I would also find mutual peace and comfort in the relationships I have with other AETs and the few other friends in Moka. Pray for my continued effort to learn the language and to adjust to Japanese culture in an appreciative yet self-preserving way. Also, know that I am thinking about what life will look like post-Japan and will be applying for graduate school soon; I would appreciate any encouragement, advice, or prayer you have to offer on that subject.

Thank you for your continued support and readership. See you later. Mata-ne.