Sunday, September 29, 2013

Pace yourself, Nano!


“Tia Elvira, my estomach hurts,” cried Nano, as he continued to devour the homemade flour tortillas. With the perfect amount of fluff, and perhaps a bit too much butter, he just couldn’t resist the rich taste of his aunt’s divine creation.

“Aye, Nano. Don’t eat too many tortillas, estupid,” she responded in comforting Texas Spanglish.

While this scene may seem all too familiar to some, and completely out of context to most, it does have a point. Nano represents my id, his aunt, Elvira, my superego, and the buttery Mexican-American staple, the topic of my blog post.

My entry today will be about the famed 宴会(えんかい , or enkai ). Now, the word enkai literally translates to banquet. The first image that pops into my head is an event from a school sports team, perhaps even a social club function. Either way, when I hear “banquet”  I think of two things:

1) Boring speeches where the listeners couldn’t care less about what’s being said, and
2) A generic pre-set menu with bland food that’s mediocre at best. You know: Maybe a dry chicken leg quarter with some rice pilaf, rubbery broccoli, and a rock-hard dinner roll. Oh yeah, don’t forget the two goblets filled with dirty-lemon water and weak iced tea. For dessert, we will be serving up Chinese buffet quality cheesecake with a cup of coffee: regular or decaf, and don’t even think about being able to fit your finger through that microscopic coffee cup handle. It ain’t gone’ happen.

Yes. Banquet food falls somewhere on the spectrum between the buffet on a cruise ship’s lido deck, and the obligatory meal one would eat after a funeral at the repast. Anyway, I digress. Moving on to the main subject of the blog:

I truly believe the word “banquet” is not an accurate term for an enkai. It’s more like a dinner party minus the uppity pretentiousness that comes with calling it a “dinner party.”  Recently, I went to an enkai with my caretaker teacher and other staff members of my base school, and the experience at one of these parties is worth sharing.

The party planning starts out with making transportation arrangements. Depending on how late you stay out, you can either take the train, or have a designated driver. Once this is decided, you must then choose a location. It usually takes place at an 居酒屋(いざかや, or izakaya), which is a drinking establishment with a full bar and a food menu.

Our enkai took place at an izakaya in Matsumoto, like many social events. We walked in and were greeted by one of the staff members. We were then taken to a private room for our party. Of course, this is japan, so our satobaki weren't allowed on the soft tatami flooring. Word to the wise: make sure you always have matching socks that are clean and without holes, besides the giant hole at the top where your foot enters the sock, of course.

Can you guess my shoes? Hint: If you've met me within the past eight years, you would probably recognize them...

The enkai traditionally starts out with a beer toast. “Kanpai!” we exclaimed together as the night was kicked off with clinking of glasses. Now, you may be surprised to hear this, but the Japanese drink selection at an izakaya is not weird or exotic. It is very similar to that of a sports bar in the United States. They serve:


- Lots of styles of beer, both foreign and domestic, although it is weird seeing budweiser as a foreign beer
- A limited wine selection- They usually have one one red, one white, and maybe a blush or dessert wine
-Sake, of course. It is Japan, after all.
-Highballs, martinis, mixed drinks, etc- These are very similar to their western counterparts: You can get a whiskey and coke, a martini-extra dry and dirty, a gin and juice, whatever you want, they probably have.

The group before the first kanpai.

One thing to note, is that it is customary for one to not pour their own beer, but rather pour the beer for others. If you would like a refill, simply allow your glass to get empty, and you’ll have one of your colleagues at the table filling up your glass as though they were waiting on you.


In the United States, drinking with fellow staff members can be a slippery slope.You can have one too many drinks, and that would lead to a huge chain reaction of consequences. For example, you can get drunk as a skunk and accidentally confess your desires to be with someone, or you could get so drunk that you could be stumbling around and slurring your words left and right. In the United States, that would leave you the talk of the water cooler for quite some time. You don’t believe me, ask me about an unnamed staff member’s shining moments on a faculty trip to the casino. The kicker is- I wasn’t even there, and I still know the dirty deets.

Here in Japan, drunkenness amongst employees is not taboo. Dare I say, it’s encouraged. Being a part of the collectivist mentality that is so prevalent on this side of the world, getting drunk with your co-workers and or supervisor is seen as something that is supposed to bring the group closer together. It’s the Las Vegas Tourism Bureau mantra: What happens at an enkai, stays at an enkai. Inner feelings, desires, and general intoxicated shenanigans are staples. Generally, the Japanese have a way of forgiving and forgetting what happened at a drinking party.

Of course, I didn’t allow myself to get intoxicated: partly because I can’t really handle my alcohol, and partly because I didn’t want to be drunk in a foreign country where I don’t speak the language. God forbid an earthquake or some other catastrophic event were to happen. I like having my wits about me. This wasn’t a problem either. If at any given time, you don’t feel like drinking any more alcohol, you can do one of two things.

1) Leave your beer glass full. This will nonverbally signal that you’re slowing down, or don’t want to drink anymore. You can even use this method to “Pace yourself, Nano.” Maybe you want to have a glass of water in between beers, or maybe you want to switch to non alcoholic beverages.
2) You can also simply place your hand over your glass and say “I’m okay” in Japanese when someone offers to pour your beer. This means exactly what you think it means. “No thank you. I’m not craving any drinks right now. Maybe later, maybe not.”

I really appreciate the manners that are customary at an enkai. Although co-workers are encouraged to drink and let loose in front of each other, it is also seen as rude to force someone or coerce someone into drinking when they either have reached their limit or choose not to. In fact, there are people who go to the enkai that don’t drink alcohol at all. Whether it’s for personal reasons, or because they are the designated driver. Since I’m not a big drinker, I never felt pressured to drink any more than I wanted to, and that makes me happy. There are few things I hate more than feeling like I’m being given flack for not drinking enough. Where does the conflict between the id and superego come into play, you ask: the vittles.

Perhaps my favorite part of an enkai is the spread of food. This is where I have to really watch myself and exercise self control. The food at these things is so tasty. Imagine having a few drinks at your favorite sports bar, say Hooters, or Buffalo Wild Wings. Just when you’re feeling a nice buzz and hunger starts to rear its ugly head, a cute waiter/waitress brings you a fresh order of bar food. In America, it’d be a yummy quesadilla, maybe some hot wings, or some jalapeno poppers... or one of the two hundred thirty six different names that Pinterest has for the same damn dish- poppers, bombers, nummers, kickers, the list goes on and on.

In Japan, it’s no different. Below are a few pictures of what foods went into my stomach at my first enkai:


Fresh cucumber with chile sauce 
Single serving from BABOR (Big-ass Bowl of Ramen)

Rare fish

"Caesar" salad with bacon, steak fries, cheese sticks, fried chicken
Settling up at the end of the night is also a bit different than in The States. It’s almost always the case that the check is split evenly amongst the group. Even if you didn’t eat or drink much, or on the opposite end, ate and drank your weight, everyone pays the same. This may not be the most fair way to pay up, but it is what it is. You can take it or leave it.

The group after the party...

So, to summarize, a night out with co workers in Japan is very similar to a night out with friends back home: Lots of good food and drinks, laughter, and tons of memories that could potentially stick with you for years to come. I really appreciate my life in Japan, but I also have fond memories of friends and family stateside. “Kanpai and Cheers”
Sayonara party at Genji -Not pictured: Joe Merry- He's taking the picture...

Nevermind. Here he is with a random Asian man who popped in...












Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Attention Houston: It is now time to go back to school...


My job requires me to go to a total of three schools: One junior high school, and two elementary schools. 塩尻 中学校, also known as Shiojiri JHS, is my base school. I report to work here with the exception of the five or so days per month when I visit the two elementaries.

One can argue that a school is not the edifice itself, but rather the concept of teaching and learning that goes on in said space, but I wanted to share a bit about the physical building first. This post may be used a reference point for future blog posts about my job as an ALT, so I will try to hit the main areas of the school so that you can have a general idea as to what it looks like. In the words of my dear granny, Maxine McDonald, I shall give you the “Two-dollar Tour.”

School campus as seen from athletic fields

Map of school

Map: The school is a three story building that centers around a courtyard. There are two towers, so to speak, with classrooms in either tower. If you look in the above photograph, you can see orange, blue, and green-colored tiles. These tiles represent the homerooms of the first, second, and third years, respectively. These are all in the west tower. The east tower houses the science, fine arts, and home economics rooms. You can also see my silhouette in the picture.



Student's entrance as seen from driveway


Students’ Entrance: This is the primary entrance that students use to come and go. It is the closest entrance to the academic wings, and it has multiple doors for easy traffic flow.



Adult's entrance as seen from driveway












Adult’s Entrance: This is the main entrance that the saff and faculty use when entering and exiting the school. It is farther away from the academic wings, but closer to the teacher’s room, front office, clinic, and teacher’s lounge. Parents, visitors, postmen, and vendors also use this door.







When I first discovered that there were two entrances, I didn’t really know what to think, but then I realized that it’s the same in America. The students of a school don’t all funnel in through the front doors by the main office. That would be impractical. Both entrances serve the most commonly used areas for each group of people, and both have separate genkan:

Adult's genkan: inside looking out

Students genkan as seen from above


Genkan: Imagine if a foyer and a mudroom hooked up and had a baby. This would be it. The genkan is just on the other side of the external doors. It is a recessed area of a home or school that functions as a transitional space. It has mats for drying off muddy or wet shoes, and it has racks for the storage of umbrellas on rainy days. The genkan’s primary function is to serve as a space where one can change shoes. In Japanese homes and schools, shoes that are worn outside are never to be worn inside.  Before entering the main area of a home or school, you must remove your regular outside shoes, sotobaki, and put on your inside shoes, uwabaki. I can’t help but think of the scene in Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift where Lucas Black’s character learns about outdoor and indoor shoes the hard way.

My shoe locker

Sotobaki (outside footwear) = Nike

Uwabaki (indoor footwear) = Converse

Staff room: This room is located at the front of the school. It is where all of the teachers, as well as the administration gather every morning. When a teacher has an off period or planning time, this is usually where they go. Everyone has their own desk and computer provided by the school. I, of course, bring my own computer. You know, the one that runs on an operating system in my mother tongue?

Staff room

Corridor: Here is a shot of the hallway. Each hallway in the academic wings has a trough-style sink for students to wash their hands after using the bathroom, before eating lunch, etc. They also have a large common area that can hold every student in their respective grade comfortably. The students often gather here during passing period. Sometimes this space is used for grade level meetings as well.
Corridor

Classroom: This is a picture of your standard classroom. Of course the elective and science rooms are a bit different, but you get the general idea. What I admire most about the classrooms at this school is their ability to provide a stunning view. Since Japan’s landscape is over 80% mountains, you can imagine how distracting nature can be. Add in the the fact that every 10-15 minutes or so a JR train goes by, and you’d start to wonder how I get anything done in a regular period.
Standard academic classroom

First floor terrace

I may regret saying this in the winter, but I can say it now cause it’s how I feel: I love how the classrooms here blur the lines between the natural world and their man-made school. There is no central air conditioning in my school, so it helps to have larger than life windows that open. Many times I find myself saying “There’s a nice breeze blowin’ through.” On the first floor of the school, all the classrooms have a giant glass sliding door that opens out onto the terrace. There are morning glory vines, a rock sculpture, and the special needs department’s vegetable garden. On the second and third floors, the classrooms have doors that open out to a veranda. It isn’t uncommon to have visitors of the bug variety in the course of a regular class period.
On the Whole: I really enjoy my base school. The simple structure and great views make it a comfortable place to be. Like I said, maybe I’ll be changing my tune come wintertime, but for now I’m on cloud nine.

View of town from third floor of Shiojiri JHS


Thursday, September 5, 2013

Mr. Lightyear, now I'm curious. What does a space ranger actually do?


So, I have talked about a few things here and there in regards to my life in Japan, but there are some of you reading this who don’t really know why I’m here, or may be slightly misinformed/ confused. This post’s intention is to clarify how I got to this position, my duties as an ALT, and my intentions for my stay in Japan.


Where do you live, Jimmy?

Although I’ve stated this before, just to be clear, I live in a small town called Shiojiri-shi, which is in Nagano-ken. Quick lesson: The square mileage of Japan is very close to that of the U.S. state, Montana, but many compare it to California due to its vertical shape and latitudinal alignment. So, to keep it simple, I will compare it to the latter. Keep in mind that California is about 10% larger and has milder winters.


California has 58 counties, Japan has 47 prefectures. Within each county, there are several cities, towns, and villages. Ex: Los Angeles county has multiple cities with police forces, mayors, and citizens. Japan’s prefectures have the same. Towns, cities, and villages with individual local governments. Also, much like in the states, each county has a county seat. The county seat for L.A. county is Los Angeles. The prefectural capital for Nagano-ken is Nagano City. I live in Shiojiri-city, a small town located in the middle of the prefecture.


How did you get over to Japan?
Besides the obvious “I boarded an international flight to Japan, and the pilot navigated over the Pacific Ocean” response, many people are curious as to the avenue I took to get my job here.
I applied through a Japanese government initiative called the JET Programme. It started in 1987, and its purpose is to bring native English speakers over to Japan to serve as cultural representatives of their homelands. Most people employed by JET are language teachers. There are a few other job titles that one can have, but I will only discuss my situation. The Japanese government wanted to promote cultural exchange and internationalization.

What’s the application process like?
You must be patient to even think about applying for JET. The application process begins in the fall. Usually in October, the embassy releases the official application via the U.S. Embassy website. The application is supposed to be filled out and turned in online, as well as submitted in hard copy. There are also several supplementary documents that need to be turned in: two letters of recommendation, a certificate of health, university transcripts, etc. Most importantly, there is a statement of purpose. The statement of purpose, much like an SoP for graduate school, should be well thought out and planned to a tee. It addresses why you want to be on JET, what special skills you bring to the table, specific reasons for choosing Japan over other nations, and what qualities make you stand out more than the next guy. This is one of the places in you application where you can shine. Several JET participants release their statements of purpose online, but it’s frowned upon, so you’ll just have to imagine that mine was tolerable.

The application, along with the other documents are due sometime in November- usually right before Thanksgiving. Once this deadline passes, you begin the waiting game, round one.  Granted, many American applicants are too busy with the holidays to notice, but once New Year’s day is over, the agony truly begins. While you are living your life stateside, going to school, work, church, soccer practice, bunko night, jazzercise, your application is at the embassy being scored. Each question is given a specific weight along with your statement of purpose. The people who make the cut are notified by email that they have passed the first round.

Once you have passed the first round of screening, an interview will be arranged at the local consulate general in your region. Lucky for me, there is one in Houston. This interview happens in mid to late February. Interviews are usually panel-style with three “questioneers” and one very nervous interviewee. Once again, the questions in my interview are supposed to be private, and I signed a confidentiality agreement, so I refuse to put them on the internet. If you’re that curious as to what they asked, you can check the internet for a general idea of interview questions, or you can ask me in person. The interview is only about twenty minutes, so make sure you do your best to leave a great impression.

After the interview is over, and you have had your shirts laundered to remove the sweat stains, the waiting game, round two begins. The next phase of the interview process is announced in April. Of those interviewed, one has three possible outcomes. You can be short-listed, which means you essentially made the cut and you are going to Japan. You can be an alternate, which means that there’s a waitlist: you did exceedingly well, and you’ll be upgraded as short list candidates drop out or refuse their positions for whatever reason. The third and final outcome is rejection. This means that you did not make the final cut, and will have to try again next year.

If you made the short list, the waiting game, round three begins. They will let you know your placement anytime between the months of May and July. I was fortunate enough to know my placement fairly early: I knew right around my birthday, May 13th. I have heard some horror stories about JETs not finding out their placement until July. Yikes. The JET Programme mantra is: ESID (Every Situation Is Different). If truth be told, I don’t necessarily like that saying, as I find it redundant, but I won’t go into my rant on ESID. That soapbox rambling could be an entire blog post in and of itself…

What are your duties?
I am an ALT (Assistant Language Teacher). I stand alongside a Japanese teacher of English, and help him or her run their English class. I help with pronunciation of difficult words, I help grade students’ papers, and I assist with difficult grammar. I am supposed to be a representation of “Living English.” Sure, a Japanese person can learn “Dick has a red wagon. Jane has a blue camisole. Spot has a flea collar.” What good would that really do, though? Living English is more about basic survival skills. “Where is the toilet? What are your hobbies? Sorry, boo, but your train left three minutes ago; would you like to wait over there till the next one comes?”
I am also supposed to be a “cultural ambassador.” I know that term makes me sound like a tool, but it’s the most accurate buzzword I can think of. Japanese teachers of English are capable of teaching English to the kids on their own. They studied it in university and are pretty fluent. My job is to show what my English-speaking culture is like. I’m supposed to represent not only the United States, but also Texans, and to a lesser degree, the Afro-American male. The story of black Jimmy, the American from Texas will be significantly different than that of Liam, the Jewish New Yorker, Sandra, the Latin-American from Los Angeles, or even Kevin Liu, the Chinese-Australian from Sydney. Please forgive the name stereotypes. I’m trying to make a point… While on stereotypes, check out this book I found on display in a Thai restaurant:

Black Chibi: San(m)bo- This baby's black...


That sounds fun. Do you think it’d be possible for me to do the JET Programme?
The JET Programme isn’t for everyone, but I think many people are qualified. Keep the following pointers in mind:

- For U.S. citizens, you must have a bachelor’s degree to work in Japan. It doesn’t have to be in English. It could be in psychology, education, general studies, nursing, engineering, art history, Japanese, underwater basket weaving (I can’t believe people still use this as an expression), or whatever other degree that’s out there. There are a few exceptions to this rule, but they are few and far between.

- The application process is arduous. It spans from October to April. If you are truly interested, I suggest mentally preparing yourself. Don’t wait till the last minute. Be detail-oriented: astuteness is key. Be ready to wait a long time in between the various phases, and keep yourself occupied.

-The application process is competitive. Period. End of story. Much like “Disney People,” “JET People” are a breed on their own. I will spare you my take on “JET People” for another post.  I will reiterate, however, that JET is no joke. Every year there are thousands of applicants trying their hand at this opportunity. Make sure you have all your ducks in a row. Don’t give the application committee or interview panel any reason to dismiss you as a potential candidate. Although many may think this is a vacation, and in its own international way, it kind of is, JET is a j-o-b. You have benefits. You have a contract. You can get fired.

- Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket. Sitting on your rump waiting for JET without a back-up plan isn’t a great idea. I for one didn’t break my contract with my school district until after I received confirmation that I would actually be going.

-JET isn’t the end-all-be-all. There are other ways to come and work in Japan. I am only familiar with my experience and what the JET Programme is like. If you wanna know more options, there is tons out there on the world wide web. Also, Japan isn’t the only country needing English teachers. There are programs in China, Korea, Europe, South America…

What are your goals for staying in Japan?
While nothing is really set in stone, and tomorrow is a whole day away, I can safely say that I’m planning on staying here for a while. I could stay for a maximum of five years with JET. While I’m not convinced this will be the case, it is a possibility.  I also could experience the first winter here and decide to come home at the end of my first year. If I had my druthers, I would be here for two or three.

I want to learn as much Japanese as possible. I don’t think I will be completely literate or anything like that, but conversational fluency is a target. If I can speak as much Japanese as I can Spanish, I think I will be in good shape.

Another goal is to travel to other prefectures and Asian countries. Japan is a very small country. My home state, Texas, is significantly larger, so it isn’t unheard of for people to pick up and travel across the country. The transit infrastructure is top notch.. Trust me, there is a whole blog post coming up about my obsession with the J.R. It is also quick and easy getting to other countries. I can make it to Seoul by plane for about 200 USD round trip. That’s cheaper than flying from IAH to DFW and back.

My final goal is to save money. Sure, I’m making decent money. If truth be told, the take home is about the same, maybe 10% more than my previous job. The kicker is, however, my cost of living. I don’t have to pay car insurance, I don’t buy gasoline, I won't even go into the health care here, as I don’t wanna take a dump on my home country, my rent is subsidized, and I don’t live in an expensive city. Needless to say, it would be stupid to blow all my money on frivolity. I would like to return to the states and buy a place in Houston. Whether I will live there or rent it out is yet to be foreseen...

I hope this was a helpful post, and not a one-sided verbose explanation that wasted everyone’s time. If you have any further questions, you can most certainly leave comments or email me at jimidarudenu@aol.com I will be more than happy to answer them. Until next time...