Working at six different schools makes it hard to remember individual children let alone anyone’s name. However, at the huge elementary school I go to that has 800 students (it’s literally called “Big Rice Field Elementary) I have two 4th grade boys that really stand out. I nicknamed this dynamic duo of disruption Cartman and Penis Boy.
Cartman is a corpulent little bastard child that distracts and bullies everyone around him, most of all his poor teacher. Cartman is always making noise by either banging on his desk, singing off key, or just wailing at the top of his lungs for no reason at all. One day I was teaching in Cartman’s class and it was so quiet. All the students were working diligently and the only words spoken outside of the lesson were, “It’s so quiet.” After fifteen minutes of peace Cartman makes his appearance slamming the sliding door and making a piercing, “WHOOOOOOOOOP!” sound as he enters the classroom. He continues his racket by chucking his bag across the room, slapping a few students on the head, and making, “blooop blop blooop blop” noises. The lesson grinds to a halt as Cartman distracts everyone again and I struggle through the rest of the class.
Sometimes the teacher tries to cajole Carman into settling down and joining the lesson, but when she comes close to him he squeals like a stuck pig and punches her HARD. Usually the teacher and most of the other students try to ignore Cartman’s shrill commotions to just keep him from going any crazier. Cartman does not mess with me personally at all. Whenever I talk to him I give him an intimidating look so he knows if he hits me I just might toss his butterball butt out the nearest window.
Despite being a horrible asshole Cartman also has his hilarious moments. I was eating lunch in Cartman’s classroom and he was being his usual loudmouth self reciting lines from 300 and punching his classmates. Being largely ignored Cartman grew furious and at the front of the room screeched, “I AM SPARTA!” and with all his might flung a hard plastic tray clear across the room discus style. The projectile narrowly missed striking a little girl in the face. Seeing this reenactment of King Leonidas’ last stand by a pudgy Japanese boy completely floored me with laughter and I had to exit the room because I didn’t want Cartman to see me in hysterics over his dangerous antics.
Another thing about Cartman is that he is incredibly smart. He’ll be drawing on some books while singing the theme song to Naruto (ugh so excruciating) but when it comes down to the game part of the lesson where the students have to apply what they learned he is one of the top students that remember everything.
Penis boy is in the classroom next to Cartman’s. He is completely infatuated with male genitalia. His, mine, and all the boys he hangs out with, hell he just loves penises. For almost all the students, including Cartman, I am able to stop them from touching me inappropriately by either keeping a proper distance or by being intimidating. Not Penis Boy. Every tactic I’ve used has just emboldened him and made him even more resolute in the desire to grab my dick. Every time I teach Penis Boy’s class he goes up to me and makes a running stab at my junk. I have to turn and grab his hands and shove him back while yelling at him. Every time he is thwarted Penis boy will give me a shrewd smile of, “I’ll get you someday.”
When I first met Penis Boy he grasped his crotch and screamed, “OWWWWW!” impersonating Michael Jackson. Off guard, I had a little chuckle until he yelled, “OWWWW!” as a war cry and made several close attempts to grab my dick until I pinned his arms behind his back and told him to stop. Ever since then it has been a never-ending battle.
Penis boy has two friends in class that like penises too, albeit nowhere near the interplanetary level of Penis Boy. This Penis Posse per se is a huge distraction in class because they are always touching each other and every other answer is, “PENIS!” I now know waaaaaaaaaaaay too many Japanese words for penis thank you very much.
Because of standardized testing at Big Rice Field Elementary this week I’ve had the first two classes as free time. (Yey!) To make up for this my remaining lessons have had two classes combined. (Booo!) One of these merged classes was the meeting of Cartman and Penis Boy. (Oh snap!)
The lesson was opposites. Big – small, fat – thin, long – short, etc. The game for this lesson is after I say, “Show me wet (dry, tall, etc)” the students run around the room to objects, including ones I’ve set up, and point to them saying “This is wet!” Since I had done this lesson half a dozen times without incident and I haven’t had either Penis Boy or Cartman as students since before Winter Break I thought things would be fine. How foolish of me.
Cartman and Penis Boy were both pretty subdued during the lesson, now I know it’s because they were saving their energy for the game. Cartman, like usual, wanted to be the center of attention and screamed bloody murder if at least half the class didn’t pick the same object he discovered to point to. When a little girl picked up a ruler that Cartman was eyeing for “long” he snatched it away from her and spanked her butt with it. When I said, “Show me fat” and “Show me heavy” Cartman was hyperventilating with excitement because HE is fat and heavy and could point to himself. Three or four brave boys tried in vain to lift Cartman off the floor both times. Cartman for his part gave his best Jabba the Hut impression ‘ho ho hoing’ at the feeble mortal attempts to lift his massive girth.
Yes, Cartman was a huge distraction and mean to the other students but with Penis Boy I was the one in danger. EVERY DAMN WORD I said was related to a penis. “Show me cute” and Penis Boy grabs a smaller boy’s penis and says “PENIS! THIS IS CUTE!” I was very reluctant to say ‘big’, ‘long’, etc because I knew the little bastard was going to make a stab at my junk when I did.
Putting off saying the dreaded words made things worse though because the Penis Posse was growing. The boys from both classes think Penis Boy’s obsession is hilarious and join in the fun gang grabbing unsuspecting boy’s penises that were in and outside of the posse. Once a boy was corrupted by the hands of one inside the posse he decided to join in on the ‘fun’.
I finally decide to say the dreaded words. I say, “Show me… big” and Penis Boy leads the pack charging towards me screaming, “PENISSSSSSSSS BIIGGGGGG!” My instincts kick in and I manage to back myself into a corner while grabbing Penis Boy’s wrists and twisting his arms behind his back I use Penis Boy as a shield against his followers. When Cartman is finished ‘ho ho hoing’ from the failed lifting attempt the Penis Posse has calmed down but Penis Boy is struggling just as fiercely as ever. The exact same thing happened three or four more times with other words but I somehow managed to avoid the dozens of grabby hands every time.
Finally the last word of the lesson was sweet. Earlier in the lesson to illustrate the difference between sweet and sour I showed the class a piece of candy in my pocket. Every other class I taught the students either forgot about the candy or asked for it politely. This class not so much.
I say, “Show me sweet” and Penis Boy with half the posse screams, “SWEEEET” and darts for my crotch to either steal the candy or yank my sweet penis. Either way I didn’t like it so I ran. Unfortunately I ran right into Cartman who was screeching, “SWEET CANDY SWEET” and managed to fit a fat fist in my pocket and snatch the candy. Another boy wrestled the candy from Cartman who shrieked and swung a wild blow hitting another student. The boy with the candy was soon tackled and dog piled by twenty other boys grabbing for candy, penises and who the hell knows what else.
In the end I have no idea what happened because the bell rang while the boys were still in the pile so I quickly said a few farewell remarks and got the hell out of there. One or two crazy kids always influences a normal class go crazy with them, but holy hell this was on another level. The combined might of the dynamic duo of disruption, Cartman and Penis Boy, was just way too much for me.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
My Wife Makes More Sense
Kim was born in Korea and adopted by her Japanese mother and white father on Hawaii. On Oahu island she was raised by her 80 plus extended Japanese Hawaiian family with special influence by her traditional Japanese grandmother. I knew all this before we were married. However, not since coming to Japan has Kim made so much sense.
Kim never swings her arms when she runs. It looks like she is carrying some invisible heavy weights in her hands preventing her from lifting her arms from her sides. I think this looks hilarious and so did all her teammates when she played soccer and track as they jeered her throughout her athletic youth. Our first week in Japan we saw various joggers, old and young alike, running exactly like Kim, arms at their sides holding onto the invisible weights while scooting forward laboriously. She happy exclaimed, “I’m normal I’m normal!” over and over again.
Kim is a strong believer in horoscopes and the zodiac signs. She’ll explain to me matter of factly why she doesn’t get along with people from a certain sign or why other signs blend so well. In Japan many women and men read their horoscopes everyday and totally believe in the legitimacy of a factless generic fortune based on the month one was born in. Sorry I don’t know my sign and I forgot my blood type but apparently this will tell somebody exactly what kind of personality I have.
Like the Japanese Kim is a little bit of a clean freak. I don’t just mean taking shoes off by the door like the Japanese do but washing all the dishes within minutes of a meals completion instead of hours or days like I was used to in my bachelor years. She’ll get on her hands and knees to scrub the shower and toliet (in Japan they are separate rooms) at least once a week. I’ll watch the kids at school on their hands and knees cleaning the teacher’s room so diligently while I sit on my ass and do nothing. If only I could get away with it at home.
Dog’s butts are so cute! At least I’ve been lead to believe this since almost every dog in Japan has a curly or upturned tail to show off their adorable assholes. Kim will cry in excitement, “Look at that dog’s butt! It’s so cute!” at least once a day. Last week Kim was looking at Corgi Style magazine and half the pictures were of the corgi’s backsides framed by the figure of a heart to accentuate the animal’s heart shaped butt. Many cats in Japan have bobbed tails to expose their little kitty buttholes, but these cats are usually nowhere near as well groomed and magnificent as the dogs.
Just like the Japanese Kim will be very polite and nice to people especially coworkers and people she doesn’t know very well, even if she is boiling with rage and would really like to tell them off she smiles to their face. Mister Smiley meet my wife.
I can’t get up from sitting on the floor without either rocking back and forth to build up momentum or using my hands as leverage. Yet Kim can easily rise vertically while sitting in a perfectly straight Japanese pose with ease. All the Japanese kids at school sitting on the floor can do this too. I’ve noticed at restaurants that the foreigners all use their hands to get up but the Japanese don’t have to. How the hell is this possible? Much to the amusement of Kim I tried for a couple hours one rainy day to get up without rocking or using my hands and fell on my ass every damn time. They make it look so easy…
Kim likes very small and cute things that are nicely wrapped. According to the Japanese how well something is wrapped and in how many layers of wrapping signifies the quality of the present. Since I fail miserably at wrapping presents in general and usually bust out the gift bag instead it’s nice having a wife that loves to wrap. Unfortunately when Christmas, her birthday and Valentines day all roll around within a couple months of each other I’m screwed.
I believe I mentioned in the television post that the Japanese love food and traveling and half their shows on TV are of some celebrity personalities traveling to different restaurants and eating while shouting, “Oishi!” Guess who else practically lives for traveling and eating out at good restaurants? Then I read in a Korean travel book how Koreans like to go out to eat for every meal. I’ve since stopped trying to convince her to stay in when she wants to go to a restaurant. Why fight nature and nurture just to save a little money?
Japanese women and many many straight men carry around designer luxury purses and wallets. Kim’s philosophy is she would rather spend 600 dollars on something good that will last and she likes than some mid range out of style bag. It’s hard to argue with her when even the poorest Japanese woman takes out a $700 Louis Vuitton wallet out of her $1,500 Fendi purse to count out a few coins at the discount vegetable stand.
Japanese women are constantly in front of make up mirrors plucking their eyebrows and other errant hairs. Asian women are hairless and they like to keep it that way, damn it. But beyond that Kim likes sneak up on me and pluck my beard and neck hairs she thinks look ugly. IT HURTS! She’ll squeal with evil delight as I beg her to go away and stop her plucking. When I am too lazy or forget to shave female co-workers have commented on wanting to pluck some of my longer whiskers. What the hell. All Asian women need to keep me out of their hairless pluck fantasies.
While living in and around Los Angeles, the world capital of plastic surgery and breast implants, Kim was getting a little insecure about her small boobs on her small frame. In Japan large breasts are not a natural occurrence. I think the whole time I’ve been here I’ve seen a half dozen women with a C cup or bigger that weren’t obese. Even the overweight women will gain weight everywhere but their boobies. I’m happy because she feels much more confident that her body is in proportion and she is complimented on it often. Also, Kim is happy because the clothes in Japan fit much better, especially the wide variety of Japanese bras where, oh my god she’s a medium!
And finally Kim did what her mom did and what many other Japanese women would like to do, she married a white man. I’m not saying that most Japanese women want to marry westerners but for some women that want to escape the misogynistic culture of Japan and be a little different and worldly marrying a white dude like me is a dream. Also, the mixed hapa babies can be really cute.
Kim never swings her arms when she runs. It looks like she is carrying some invisible heavy weights in her hands preventing her from lifting her arms from her sides. I think this looks hilarious and so did all her teammates when she played soccer and track as they jeered her throughout her athletic youth. Our first week in Japan we saw various joggers, old and young alike, running exactly like Kim, arms at their sides holding onto the invisible weights while scooting forward laboriously. She happy exclaimed, “I’m normal I’m normal!” over and over again.
Kim is a strong believer in horoscopes and the zodiac signs. She’ll explain to me matter of factly why she doesn’t get along with people from a certain sign or why other signs blend so well. In Japan many women and men read their horoscopes everyday and totally believe in the legitimacy of a factless generic fortune based on the month one was born in. Sorry I don’t know my sign and I forgot my blood type but apparently this will tell somebody exactly what kind of personality I have.
Like the Japanese Kim is a little bit of a clean freak. I don’t just mean taking shoes off by the door like the Japanese do but washing all the dishes within minutes of a meals completion instead of hours or days like I was used to in my bachelor years. She’ll get on her hands and knees to scrub the shower and toliet (in Japan they are separate rooms) at least once a week. I’ll watch the kids at school on their hands and knees cleaning the teacher’s room so diligently while I sit on my ass and do nothing. If only I could get away with it at home.
Dog’s butts are so cute! At least I’ve been lead to believe this since almost every dog in Japan has a curly or upturned tail to show off their adorable assholes. Kim will cry in excitement, “Look at that dog’s butt! It’s so cute!” at least once a day. Last week Kim was looking at Corgi Style magazine and half the pictures were of the corgi’s backsides framed by the figure of a heart to accentuate the animal’s heart shaped butt. Many cats in Japan have bobbed tails to expose their little kitty buttholes, but these cats are usually nowhere near as well groomed and magnificent as the dogs.
Just like the Japanese Kim will be very polite and nice to people especially coworkers and people she doesn’t know very well, even if she is boiling with rage and would really like to tell them off she smiles to their face. Mister Smiley meet my wife.
I can’t get up from sitting on the floor without either rocking back and forth to build up momentum or using my hands as leverage. Yet Kim can easily rise vertically while sitting in a perfectly straight Japanese pose with ease. All the Japanese kids at school sitting on the floor can do this too. I’ve noticed at restaurants that the foreigners all use their hands to get up but the Japanese don’t have to. How the hell is this possible? Much to the amusement of Kim I tried for a couple hours one rainy day to get up without rocking or using my hands and fell on my ass every damn time. They make it look so easy…
Kim likes very small and cute things that are nicely wrapped. According to the Japanese how well something is wrapped and in how many layers of wrapping signifies the quality of the present. Since I fail miserably at wrapping presents in general and usually bust out the gift bag instead it’s nice having a wife that loves to wrap. Unfortunately when Christmas, her birthday and Valentines day all roll around within a couple months of each other I’m screwed.
I believe I mentioned in the television post that the Japanese love food and traveling and half their shows on TV are of some celebrity personalities traveling to different restaurants and eating while shouting, “Oishi!” Guess who else practically lives for traveling and eating out at good restaurants? Then I read in a Korean travel book how Koreans like to go out to eat for every meal. I’ve since stopped trying to convince her to stay in when she wants to go to a restaurant. Why fight nature and nurture just to save a little money?
Japanese women and many many straight men carry around designer luxury purses and wallets. Kim’s philosophy is she would rather spend 600 dollars on something good that will last and she likes than some mid range out of style bag. It’s hard to argue with her when even the poorest Japanese woman takes out a $700 Louis Vuitton wallet out of her $1,500 Fendi purse to count out a few coins at the discount vegetable stand.
Japanese women are constantly in front of make up mirrors plucking their eyebrows and other errant hairs. Asian women are hairless and they like to keep it that way, damn it. But beyond that Kim likes sneak up on me and pluck my beard and neck hairs she thinks look ugly. IT HURTS! She’ll squeal with evil delight as I beg her to go away and stop her plucking. When I am too lazy or forget to shave female co-workers have commented on wanting to pluck some of my longer whiskers. What the hell. All Asian women need to keep me out of their hairless pluck fantasies.
While living in and around Los Angeles, the world capital of plastic surgery and breast implants, Kim was getting a little insecure about her small boobs on her small frame. In Japan large breasts are not a natural occurrence. I think the whole time I’ve been here I’ve seen a half dozen women with a C cup or bigger that weren’t obese. Even the overweight women will gain weight everywhere but their boobies. I’m happy because she feels much more confident that her body is in proportion and she is complimented on it often. Also, Kim is happy because the clothes in Japan fit much better, especially the wide variety of Japanese bras where, oh my god she’s a medium!
And finally Kim did what her mom did and what many other Japanese women would like to do, she married a white man. I’m not saying that most Japanese women want to marry westerners but for some women that want to escape the misogynistic culture of Japan and be a little different and worldly marrying a white dude like me is a dream. Also, the mixed hapa babies can be really cute.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Eri Sensei Meets the Mayor
“Oookkay COOOME ON! And how do you do! I am Eri! Prease call me ERI SENSEI, OKAY!? I like CATS! Do you like CATS!? I have two cats, nyaa nyaa, two cats! Names of cats Gon-chan and Meme-chan! (pause for laugher) Oookay COOOME ON! Lets learn ENGRISH!”
This is the introductory English speech that Eri Sensei gives to each class when she meets them. After her somewhat intelligible speech she goes on to greet each student by shaking their hands and giving some very (un)lucky kids hugs. The students are always a little freaked out to hear a Japanese person speak English and laugh so hard at the SHOCKING physical contact because the Japanese don’t hug in public, ever.
Who is Eri Sensei? She is a Japanese native ALT who wants to be a teacher, but for now is “helping” the foreign ALTs at the elementary schools. I despise her. There are three main problems I have with her: One is her inappropriate cutesy personality, two is that she is a god-awful teacher and three her English is terrible.
Eri Sensei came to “help” me and the other ALTs with only three months left in the school year. Why all of a sudden do we need help now? Have I had my head up my ass this whole time? Since I go to five elementary schools I work with Eri five times more than the other ALTs. Damn it I used to really like that I only went to elementary schools, but not anymore. I’ve taught with Eri six times now and for the rest of the year I will see her on average once a week. Ugh.
Like many unmarried Japanese woman in their 30’s Eri acts super cutesy and bubbly like a high school girl. It is very disturbing. Eri’s caked on make up, bright pink lip stick and unsuitable knee high socks coupled with a cheap skirt or tight pants makes her look way older than she is instead of younger. Eri is always wearing a cat sweater which complements her cat purse and cat stationary complete with cat pen. Past Eri’s chirpy facade lies a lonely lonely woman desperate for affection. So I do feel sorry for her when I think about this but most of my time isn’t spent in psychosomatic contemplation, it’s spent “team” “teaching” with this crazy woman.
Eri Sensei, the cutsey attention starved woman, uses the classroom as her stage for the Eri show starring Eri with cameos by Michael Sensei and the rest of the class (maybe). Her teaching style starts with skipping all introductions by students and giving her opening speech, which is the most intelligible thing that comes out of her mouth (at least in English) the entire time. After her attention grabbing hugs and prancing about we sing a song, not one that has anything to do with today’s lesson but a cutesy one I’d be embarrassed to play at a Kindergarten let alone a 6th grade class.
Next its time to learn today’s English words using picture cards. If the lesson were animals I’d show a picture of a bear and say, “bear” as the students repeat “bear” after me. In Eri’s world this isn’t fun enough so she will hide the picture card behind another card and reveal it a little at a time and ask the kids in Japanese to guess the card. Half the class will yell, “KUMA KUMA KUMA!” Maybe one kid will mutter, “bear” but will be drowned out by all the frantic “kumas.” Then Eri will repeat “kuma” a couple times before shoving the card at me to say, “bear” to the baffled children.
So what’s the use in English class for the students to yell out the lesson’s vocabulary in Japanese and have it repeated to them again in Japanese? There is none. It is detrimental. But Eri has so much fun revealing the card and must think, “wow they are shouting and having fun they MUST be learning.” Seriously there is a PICTURE on the card, repeating the word in Japanese is just retarded.
Now that the students are confused and don’t understand today’s vocabulary its time for a short conversation right? No, because Eri will either skip that part all together or change the conversation to something completely inane. I’ll try to improve the situation by repeating the conversation correctly but every time I do that Eri- CUTS ME OFF and starts talking out her ass again.
Eri: “Hooow is a weasher today?”
Students: “Hoow is weasher today?”
Me: *ahem* “How’s the weather to-
Eri: “OOOOKAY! Cooome ON! Mina de san hai! Hoow is a weasher today?”
Urge to kill… rising, Rising, RISING!
Eventually the students become even more perplexed, annoyed or apathetic depending on the type of student and stop listening. This is fine with Eri because its time for a game!
Every game Eri likes to play is competition style ala fruits basket (death basket). These games involve embarrassment and kids running around without having to use any English. Also, somehow she manages to be at the center of the game every damn time. The teacher is supposed to watch and help the students learn and play, not have the entire class revolve around them for their own entertainment.
I really think Eri wants to be a teacher just to be showered with attention by the children she will never have.
Why did I come all the way to Japan as a native English speaker to have a Japanese woman with horrible grammar and pronunciation take over for me? I’m able to understand her because I’m so used to Japanese Engrish but sometimes it’s really difficult. When Eri says, “wiindo” I know that doesn’t mean ‘window’ but ‘wind’ because we are teaching weather. But one lesson dealing with colors was a little trying.
Eri Sensei: “Baapuru! Baapuru! That is BAAPURU!”
Students: “Baapuru!”
Eri then flashes me a derisive look of, “why aren’t you repeating ‘baapuru.’ I’m too busy thinking, ‘what the… bubble is it bubble? I don’t see a bubble.’ I have to walk around to the flash card she is holding (she always seems to hold them at an angle where I can’t see) and see that ‘baapuru’ is actually purple.
Most Japanese elementary teachers don’t speak any English and see English lessons as a burden. They are only too happy to let me do whatever I want in class, which is fine with me. But this ideology sucks when Eri comes because then these same teachers go from begrudgingly having to deal with the gaijin to fawning all over Eri, their savior from the a dreaded 30 second talk with me. Instead the teachers get to excitedly chat about the English lesson in Japanese while I am completely ignored. Most of the time when I have to be with Eri I have no idea what the hell the lesson is until we are teaching it in class.
I’ve tried planning with her before class and sharing ideas, but to no avail. If the plan is to teach a lesson that I’ve done before then I’d relate this to Eri and show her the materials I used. Eri will say, “OKAY!” So I bring the materials and set up for that lesson. Eri starts teaching something completely different (and stupid) to the class instead of what we talked about. When Eri goes for the materials and they aren’t the right ones she gives me a scathing, “what the hell did you do!” look for a half second before returning to her bubbly fake persona.
I no longer try to plan or help Eri. She acts like she is listening and agrees to my ideas but then will take over and do whatever the hell she wants anyway. What’s the point?
Right before winter break the mayor and the board of education came to watch an English lesson at a 5th grade class. Of course Eri was there to help. The 5th grade teacher, Ms. U and Eri plotted and planned weeks in advance. They made all sorts of elaborate materials for the lesson’s game. I was not consulted.
I walk into the class and Mister Smiley and some other board of education cronies are there with their boss the mayor, who incidentally looks just like a Japanese version of the monopoly guy. I really wanted to expose Mister Smiley in front of his bosses, but right then Eri struts in and starts the lesson.
This was Eri’s time to be a star center stage. With gusto she threw herself into the lesson by cutting off the student rep and starting her introduction, being even more animated then usual. Afterwards she shook hands with the surprised children while making a beeline for the mayor. To the shock and horror of the board of education and the amusement of myself Eri tells the mayor, “stand up!” The Mayor looks wearily at Eri and stands up, the two exchange introductions and a hearty handshake.
Then it happened, Eri gave a big ol’ bear hug to the mayor. Mister Smiley was smiley no more as he and the rest of the BOE are horrified, the kids are all laughing their heads off and the mayor has the most “WTF!” faces I’ve ever seen on a Japanese person. I somehow kept my composure through the whole thing even though it was one of the funniest damn things I’ve ever seen.
The rest of the lesson was a total train wreck all the way through. Ms. U was rattled by Eri’s erratic behavior for the rest of the lesson. Eri and Ms. U mispronounced words, forgot the conversation and grammar points and looked confused the whole time.
The disgruntled mayor and his flustered entourage left the lesson right before Eri and Ms. U got to show all of their well crafted supplies that took two weeks to make.
At the BOE meeting the day before winter break Mister Smiley acts like the presentation never happened. I remind him of it twice and his only response is, “yes you did very well.” I didn’t do or say anything the entire time he was there.
Russell is another ALT where Kim and I work who looks like John Lennon. Looking like John Lennon isn’t so hot in America, but in Japan where Lennon = sex god he is getting all kinds of attention. Anyway, the lucky bastard and me were talking after the meeting.
Russell: “Have you had this Eri woman?”
Me: “Yes, she sucks.”
Russell: “I know she is so awful. She came to help in a class once and didn’t know what the hell she was doing and started hugging everybody. What the hell.”
Me: “I have to work with her once a week for the whole day.”
Russell: “Dude… I’m so sorry.”
Kim, who has her masters in education and is a professional elementary teacher has had to work with Eri for only two classes but is almost as disgusted with her as me. Another ally is Mrs. Y who was a volunteer at Kim’s school and is also Kim’s friend. Mrs. Y has her masters in English and for a native Japanese person she speaks the best English out of anyone I have met. Mrs. Y quit volunteering out of disgust and embarrassment because the teachers ignored all of Kim and Mrs. Y’s requests to change English lessons designed and taught by Eri who was making the kids progressively worse and worse in English.
For the days I have Eri I now think about how for the rest of my life I’ll have to work with people I dislike and this is good practice for working on my human resources skills. Most times I am able to block out, but sometimes when I see her teaching incorrect grammar and pronunciation I still get angry. It really isn’t because she cuts me off and annoys me anymore, but because these kids don’t know any better and all the work I spent so far in making these students speak better English is being undone right before my eyes.
Serenity now! Serenity now!
*Sorry for the long unfunny rant. I’ll write something better next time.
This is the introductory English speech that Eri Sensei gives to each class when she meets them. After her somewhat intelligible speech she goes on to greet each student by shaking their hands and giving some very (un)lucky kids hugs. The students are always a little freaked out to hear a Japanese person speak English and laugh so hard at the SHOCKING physical contact because the Japanese don’t hug in public, ever.
Who is Eri Sensei? She is a Japanese native ALT who wants to be a teacher, but for now is “helping” the foreign ALTs at the elementary schools. I despise her. There are three main problems I have with her: One is her inappropriate cutesy personality, two is that she is a god-awful teacher and three her English is terrible.
Eri Sensei came to “help” me and the other ALTs with only three months left in the school year. Why all of a sudden do we need help now? Have I had my head up my ass this whole time? Since I go to five elementary schools I work with Eri five times more than the other ALTs. Damn it I used to really like that I only went to elementary schools, but not anymore. I’ve taught with Eri six times now and for the rest of the year I will see her on average once a week. Ugh.
Like many unmarried Japanese woman in their 30’s Eri acts super cutesy and bubbly like a high school girl. It is very disturbing. Eri’s caked on make up, bright pink lip stick and unsuitable knee high socks coupled with a cheap skirt or tight pants makes her look way older than she is instead of younger. Eri is always wearing a cat sweater which complements her cat purse and cat stationary complete with cat pen. Past Eri’s chirpy facade lies a lonely lonely woman desperate for affection. So I do feel sorry for her when I think about this but most of my time isn’t spent in psychosomatic contemplation, it’s spent “team” “teaching” with this crazy woman.
Eri Sensei, the cutsey attention starved woman, uses the classroom as her stage for the Eri show starring Eri with cameos by Michael Sensei and the rest of the class (maybe). Her teaching style starts with skipping all introductions by students and giving her opening speech, which is the most intelligible thing that comes out of her mouth (at least in English) the entire time. After her attention grabbing hugs and prancing about we sing a song, not one that has anything to do with today’s lesson but a cutesy one I’d be embarrassed to play at a Kindergarten let alone a 6th grade class.
Next its time to learn today’s English words using picture cards. If the lesson were animals I’d show a picture of a bear and say, “bear” as the students repeat “bear” after me. In Eri’s world this isn’t fun enough so she will hide the picture card behind another card and reveal it a little at a time and ask the kids in Japanese to guess the card. Half the class will yell, “KUMA KUMA KUMA!” Maybe one kid will mutter, “bear” but will be drowned out by all the frantic “kumas.” Then Eri will repeat “kuma” a couple times before shoving the card at me to say, “bear” to the baffled children.
So what’s the use in English class for the students to yell out the lesson’s vocabulary in Japanese and have it repeated to them again in Japanese? There is none. It is detrimental. But Eri has so much fun revealing the card and must think, “wow they are shouting and having fun they MUST be learning.” Seriously there is a PICTURE on the card, repeating the word in Japanese is just retarded.
Now that the students are confused and don’t understand today’s vocabulary its time for a short conversation right? No, because Eri will either skip that part all together or change the conversation to something completely inane. I’ll try to improve the situation by repeating the conversation correctly but every time I do that Eri- CUTS ME OFF and starts talking out her ass again.
Eri: “Hooow is a weasher today?”
Students: “Hoow is weasher today?”
Me: *ahem* “How’s the weather to-
Eri: “OOOOKAY! Cooome ON! Mina de san hai! Hoow is a weasher today?”
Urge to kill… rising, Rising, RISING!
Eventually the students become even more perplexed, annoyed or apathetic depending on the type of student and stop listening. This is fine with Eri because its time for a game!
Every game Eri likes to play is competition style ala fruits basket (death basket). These games involve embarrassment and kids running around without having to use any English. Also, somehow she manages to be at the center of the game every damn time. The teacher is supposed to watch and help the students learn and play, not have the entire class revolve around them for their own entertainment.
I really think Eri wants to be a teacher just to be showered with attention by the children she will never have.
Why did I come all the way to Japan as a native English speaker to have a Japanese woman with horrible grammar and pronunciation take over for me? I’m able to understand her because I’m so used to Japanese Engrish but sometimes it’s really difficult. When Eri says, “wiindo” I know that doesn’t mean ‘window’ but ‘wind’ because we are teaching weather. But one lesson dealing with colors was a little trying.
Eri Sensei: “Baapuru! Baapuru! That is BAAPURU!”
Students: “Baapuru!”
Eri then flashes me a derisive look of, “why aren’t you repeating ‘baapuru.’ I’m too busy thinking, ‘what the… bubble is it bubble? I don’t see a bubble.’ I have to walk around to the flash card she is holding (she always seems to hold them at an angle where I can’t see) and see that ‘baapuru’ is actually purple.
Most Japanese elementary teachers don’t speak any English and see English lessons as a burden. They are only too happy to let me do whatever I want in class, which is fine with me. But this ideology sucks when Eri comes because then these same teachers go from begrudgingly having to deal with the gaijin to fawning all over Eri, their savior from the a dreaded 30 second talk with me. Instead the teachers get to excitedly chat about the English lesson in Japanese while I am completely ignored. Most of the time when I have to be with Eri I have no idea what the hell the lesson is until we are teaching it in class.
I’ve tried planning with her before class and sharing ideas, but to no avail. If the plan is to teach a lesson that I’ve done before then I’d relate this to Eri and show her the materials I used. Eri will say, “OKAY!” So I bring the materials and set up for that lesson. Eri starts teaching something completely different (and stupid) to the class instead of what we talked about. When Eri goes for the materials and they aren’t the right ones she gives me a scathing, “what the hell did you do!” look for a half second before returning to her bubbly fake persona.
I no longer try to plan or help Eri. She acts like she is listening and agrees to my ideas but then will take over and do whatever the hell she wants anyway. What’s the point?
Right before winter break the mayor and the board of education came to watch an English lesson at a 5th grade class. Of course Eri was there to help. The 5th grade teacher, Ms. U and Eri plotted and planned weeks in advance. They made all sorts of elaborate materials for the lesson’s game. I was not consulted.
I walk into the class and Mister Smiley and some other board of education cronies are there with their boss the mayor, who incidentally looks just like a Japanese version of the monopoly guy. I really wanted to expose Mister Smiley in front of his bosses, but right then Eri struts in and starts the lesson.
This was Eri’s time to be a star center stage. With gusto she threw herself into the lesson by cutting off the student rep and starting her introduction, being even more animated then usual. Afterwards she shook hands with the surprised children while making a beeline for the mayor. To the shock and horror of the board of education and the amusement of myself Eri tells the mayor, “stand up!” The Mayor looks wearily at Eri and stands up, the two exchange introductions and a hearty handshake.
Then it happened, Eri gave a big ol’ bear hug to the mayor. Mister Smiley was smiley no more as he and the rest of the BOE are horrified, the kids are all laughing their heads off and the mayor has the most “WTF!” faces I’ve ever seen on a Japanese person. I somehow kept my composure through the whole thing even though it was one of the funniest damn things I’ve ever seen.
The rest of the lesson was a total train wreck all the way through. Ms. U was rattled by Eri’s erratic behavior for the rest of the lesson. Eri and Ms. U mispronounced words, forgot the conversation and grammar points and looked confused the whole time.
The disgruntled mayor and his flustered entourage left the lesson right before Eri and Ms. U got to show all of their well crafted supplies that took two weeks to make.
At the BOE meeting the day before winter break Mister Smiley acts like the presentation never happened. I remind him of it twice and his only response is, “yes you did very well.” I didn’t do or say anything the entire time he was there.
Russell is another ALT where Kim and I work who looks like John Lennon. Looking like John Lennon isn’t so hot in America, but in Japan where Lennon = sex god he is getting all kinds of attention. Anyway, the lucky bastard and me were talking after the meeting.
Russell: “Have you had this Eri woman?”
Me: “Yes, she sucks.”
Russell: “I know she is so awful. She came to help in a class once and didn’t know what the hell she was doing and started hugging everybody. What the hell.”
Me: “I have to work with her once a week for the whole day.”
Russell: “Dude… I’m so sorry.”
Kim, who has her masters in education and is a professional elementary teacher has had to work with Eri for only two classes but is almost as disgusted with her as me. Another ally is Mrs. Y who was a volunteer at Kim’s school and is also Kim’s friend. Mrs. Y has her masters in English and for a native Japanese person she speaks the best English out of anyone I have met. Mrs. Y quit volunteering out of disgust and embarrassment because the teachers ignored all of Kim and Mrs. Y’s requests to change English lessons designed and taught by Eri who was making the kids progressively worse and worse in English.
For the days I have Eri I now think about how for the rest of my life I’ll have to work with people I dislike and this is good practice for working on my human resources skills. Most times I am able to block out, but sometimes when I see her teaching incorrect grammar and pronunciation I still get angry. It really isn’t because she cuts me off and annoys me anymore, but because these kids don’t know any better and all the work I spent so far in making these students speak better English is being undone right before my eyes.
Serenity now! Serenity now!
*Sorry for the long unfunny rant. I’ll write something better next time.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
What a long strange trip it’s been
This week I had to drag my ass back to work but for twelve glorious days Kim and I were on winter vacation traversing the country from Tokyo to Kyoto, Osaka, Nara, Kobe, Himeji, Hiroshima and Miyajima. Overall it was a pretty fantastic trip and soooo touristy which, after living and working in a small town for four months, is not a bad thing. Wow! hotel and retail staff that completely understand me! Easy directions and free maps with English names AND descriptions. Amazing!
Since we were in such touristy areas almost all the restaurants had English menus. Seeing me and Kim, who most Japanese mistake for being Japanese, the waitress would give us menus in English and in Japanese. I took the Japanese and Kim took the English. Often times the English menu would be significantly shorter with items that the restaurateur thought would be palatable for foreigners. One udon resturant in particular had a horrible English menu with only five or six choices and huge Japanese menu with at least thirty. Despite this I only ordered off the Japanese menu twice the whole trip. It sucks to admit but the resturanteurs are correct in assuming foreigners like Japanese food but not too Japanesey.
Just like the Jews back in America we had Chinese food for Christmas dinner in Kyoto, not because it was it was the only restaurant open but because we could eat there without being on a two-hour waiting list.
We hit up all the famous temples, shrines, and castles always surrounded by hordes and hordes of tourists. In Kyoto and Nara this exceptionally unattractive French family kept popping up at every place we would go to. What bugged the hell out of me was the woman (who is the ugliest of the whole family) flashed me an accusatory “what the hell are you doing here!” look every time. Then her eyes, bulging from the surprise and horror of seeing those people again would narrow into stabbing slits piercing my soul with a gypsy curse. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but when we left Kyoto for Osaka I was happy to go to a new city if only to avoid the hideous eye eyed French lady.
I’m not sure why and of what cultural significance but on our way to an obscure temple in Kyoto we passed by a garden of genitalia. When I walked by an obasan was sweeping up the pathway and dusting a marble penis. Although engraved Buddhas are on the sexual statues I’m still sure what to make of them. A graveyard is nearby so maybe life and death? Of course I took a pic:
At Nara there is an enormous Buddha, not the happy fatty Buddha but the old school one with the cropped hair and serene look. Leading up to Buddha is a park with deer littered throughout. The deer are sacred animals to the Japanese, which is funny because before we knew this Kim told people at work that she ate venison in America and really liked it. Her coworkers looked sickened and angry, but hey cultural differences, gotta laugh. Here 's a pic of a deer with a warning sign about the deer:
These aren’t the cute skittish deer one admires from a distance, no the Nara deer are aggressive hungry buggers demanding handouts from visitors. Some people bought biscuits to feed the deer and were subsequently mobbed by the greedy animals. The deer feeders would toss all the biscuits to the ground and run away while others were pursued after having no food left, but with the scent still on their hands. I got head butted and nipped by a mangy ass deer and I didn’t even have any food. One little girl being followed by the sacred horned beasts was crying her eyes out because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Luckily her dad was there video taping the whole thing for posterity while not lifting a finger to save his daughter.
At the Miyajima temple there were more sacred deer looking for handouts. Again, I had no food on me but that didn’t stop the mangiest deer I’ve ever seen to trot up to me and chomp on the map I was carrying. I fought with the greedy brute for at least a minute before wrenching the map from its maw, but as I stared into its doey defiant eyes that demanded I unhand it’s papery morsel, I felt truly sad. Damn belligerent greedy deer making me feel sorry for them.
In Japan New Years is a big holiday. The whole country SHUTS DOWN to go home, relax and celebrate. That’s cool except for the days leading up to New Years all the museums, temples, etc are closed, damn it. Luckily we were in Osaka then so we hit up the crazy nightlife and during the day we went to the one place that was still open, the aquarium.
I had very different reactions then the Japanese viewing the aquatic animals. When I saw the huge ugly fish I thought, “Damn those are some huge ugly fish.” All the Japanese people around me would exclaim, “Wow it looks delicious!” and “I want to eat that fish!” I overheard this conversation with an obasan and her grandson when viewing the sea otters:
Grandson: “Wow they’re so cute!”
Obasan: “Yes so cute aren’t they?”
Grandson: “Can we eat them?”
Obasan: “No! Because they’re cute.
You’ve been spared sea otters. The Japanese love for cute things overpowered their love of seafood, for now.
By far the best part of the aquarium is the whale shark. Kim didn’t like it though because there was a little fish that attached itself to the whale shark (to gleam leftover food from the whale shark’s mouth) She thought it looked out of place and wanted to pick the little fish off, just like she likes to pluck off everything that doesn't belong. Here’s a pic:
On New Years day we were in Hiroshima and the whole city was at the local shrine to pray for good luck in the new year. Kim and I didn’t feel like standing in line for over two hours to take part in this cultural tradition, but we did indulge in the awesome street food. Seriously, Tokyo is great for fine dining and all but the Kansai area has the most kick ass street food anywhere in the country. I waited in line for 45 minutes to get freshly made taiyaki (fluffy dough with red bean or cream inside) from this near sighted obasan who must have been at least 90. In order to justify my wait time I bought ten big pieces when I really just wanted one or two. On New Years the Buddhist priests ring the temple bells to purge away the 108 sins of mankind. Hopefully one of those is gluttony because after stuffing myself so horribly I had a stomachache for the rest of the day. Pic of the crowd:
For New Years the news in the U.S. reports how many drunk driving deaths there were. In Japan the news reports on New Years how many people choked and died eating traditional mochi (which is really thick and hard to chew.) I think it was six.
The next day we went to the atomic bomb museum, which actually was not too biased against the Americans. I took a few exceptions though. Like the parts in which the museum states that the main reason the U.S. dropped the bomb was to justify the cost of making it and that there was no warnings whatsoever that the Americans were going to drop the bomb. The museum was very moving and informative despite these irksome inaccuracies and I’d recommend anyone to go. Here's a picture of the old city hall, the only structure left standing after the bomb hit.
We went to Kobe for the beef and that’s pretty much it. I gotta say it was worth it because it was the best steak of my life. So incredibly tender and moist, savory and delicious, like meat-butter melting in my mouth. It was really really expensive but so worth it. I suggest anyone on death row to make their last meal on earth fresh Kobe steak prepared teppanyaki style by a skilled chef.
The shinkansen is the super fast bullet train that is normally a wonderful experience. UNFORTUENTLY around New Years is the busiest traveling time of the season so the train is overbooked. Also, we had unreserved seating because we spent the last of our free money on Kobe beef. Consequently we had to stand for over three hours in the crowded ass train with not enough ventilation on our trip back to Tokyo.
I started whining to Kim that my feet hurt and how much this sucks, but then she motioned to a 10 year old kid playing a DS and a 60 year old man reading a newspaper while standing. In fact nobody was complaining at all about the conditions on the train. This could never ever work in America. First people in America are way too big (not just fat but BIG in general) for these trains. And second somebody would start bitching and making life miserable for all the other passengers within the first 10 minutes. Train conductors in America could never get away with shoving passengers into the train while screaming to those on board, “Make room, make room!” They would get sued and/or get a punch in the face. As I thought of this it made the discomfort in my weary legs and feet feel better.
So now we’re back from one of the best trips ever, broke but happy. I hope when we go back to America I can find a job where I get so many days off. Except it’s never really enough is it? I guess I have to go back though to make more money so I can go on more awesome trips. Picture of gold temple in Kyoto... I want some gold.
Since we were in such touristy areas almost all the restaurants had English menus. Seeing me and Kim, who most Japanese mistake for being Japanese, the waitress would give us menus in English and in Japanese. I took the Japanese and Kim took the English. Often times the English menu would be significantly shorter with items that the restaurateur thought would be palatable for foreigners. One udon resturant in particular had a horrible English menu with only five or six choices and huge Japanese menu with at least thirty. Despite this I only ordered off the Japanese menu twice the whole trip. It sucks to admit but the resturanteurs are correct in assuming foreigners like Japanese food but not too Japanesey.
Just like the Jews back in America we had Chinese food for Christmas dinner in Kyoto, not because it was it was the only restaurant open but because we could eat there without being on a two-hour waiting list.
We hit up all the famous temples, shrines, and castles always surrounded by hordes and hordes of tourists. In Kyoto and Nara this exceptionally unattractive French family kept popping up at every place we would go to. What bugged the hell out of me was the woman (who is the ugliest of the whole family) flashed me an accusatory “what the hell are you doing here!” look every time. Then her eyes, bulging from the surprise and horror of seeing those people again would narrow into stabbing slits piercing my soul with a gypsy curse. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but when we left Kyoto for Osaka I was happy to go to a new city if only to avoid the hideous eye eyed French lady.
I’m not sure why and of what cultural significance but on our way to an obscure temple in Kyoto we passed by a garden of genitalia. When I walked by an obasan was sweeping up the pathway and dusting a marble penis. Although engraved Buddhas are on the sexual statues I’m still sure what to make of them. A graveyard is nearby so maybe life and death? Of course I took a pic:
These aren’t the cute skittish deer one admires from a distance, no the Nara deer are aggressive hungry buggers demanding handouts from visitors. Some people bought biscuits to feed the deer and were subsequently mobbed by the greedy animals. The deer feeders would toss all the biscuits to the ground and run away while others were pursued after having no food left, but with the scent still on their hands. I got head butted and nipped by a mangy ass deer and I didn’t even have any food. One little girl being followed by the sacred horned beasts was crying her eyes out because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Luckily her dad was there video taping the whole thing for posterity while not lifting a finger to save his daughter.
At the Miyajima temple there were more sacred deer looking for handouts. Again, I had no food on me but that didn’t stop the mangiest deer I’ve ever seen to trot up to me and chomp on the map I was carrying. I fought with the greedy brute for at least a minute before wrenching the map from its maw, but as I stared into its doey defiant eyes that demanded I unhand it’s papery morsel, I felt truly sad. Damn belligerent greedy deer making me feel sorry for them.
In Japan New Years is a big holiday. The whole country SHUTS DOWN to go home, relax and celebrate. That’s cool except for the days leading up to New Years all the museums, temples, etc are closed, damn it. Luckily we were in Osaka then so we hit up the crazy nightlife and during the day we went to the one place that was still open, the aquarium.
I had very different reactions then the Japanese viewing the aquatic animals. When I saw the huge ugly fish I thought, “Damn those are some huge ugly fish.” All the Japanese people around me would exclaim, “Wow it looks delicious!” and “I want to eat that fish!” I overheard this conversation with an obasan and her grandson when viewing the sea otters:
Grandson: “Wow they’re so cute!”
Obasan: “Yes so cute aren’t they?”
Grandson: “Can we eat them?”
Obasan: “No! Because they’re cute.
You’ve been spared sea otters. The Japanese love for cute things overpowered their love of seafood, for now.
By far the best part of the aquarium is the whale shark. Kim didn’t like it though because there was a little fish that attached itself to the whale shark (to gleam leftover food from the whale shark’s mouth) She thought it looked out of place and wanted to pick the little fish off, just like she likes to pluck off everything that doesn't belong. Here’s a pic:
On New Years day we were in Hiroshima and the whole city was at the local shrine to pray for good luck in the new year. Kim and I didn’t feel like standing in line for over two hours to take part in this cultural tradition, but we did indulge in the awesome street food. Seriously, Tokyo is great for fine dining and all but the Kansai area has the most kick ass street food anywhere in the country. I waited in line for 45 minutes to get freshly made taiyaki (fluffy dough with red bean or cream inside) from this near sighted obasan who must have been at least 90. In order to justify my wait time I bought ten big pieces when I really just wanted one or two. On New Years the Buddhist priests ring the temple bells to purge away the 108 sins of mankind. Hopefully one of those is gluttony because after stuffing myself so horribly I had a stomachache for the rest of the day. Pic of the crowd:
For New Years the news in the U.S. reports how many drunk driving deaths there were. In Japan the news reports on New Years how many people choked and died eating traditional mochi (which is really thick and hard to chew.) I think it was six.
The next day we went to the atomic bomb museum, which actually was not too biased against the Americans. I took a few exceptions though. Like the parts in which the museum states that the main reason the U.S. dropped the bomb was to justify the cost of making it and that there was no warnings whatsoever that the Americans were going to drop the bomb. The museum was very moving and informative despite these irksome inaccuracies and I’d recommend anyone to go. Here's a picture of the old city hall, the only structure left standing after the bomb hit.
We went to Kobe for the beef and that’s pretty much it. I gotta say it was worth it because it was the best steak of my life. So incredibly tender and moist, savory and delicious, like meat-butter melting in my mouth. It was really really expensive but so worth it. I suggest anyone on death row to make their last meal on earth fresh Kobe steak prepared teppanyaki style by a skilled chef.
The shinkansen is the super fast bullet train that is normally a wonderful experience. UNFORTUENTLY around New Years is the busiest traveling time of the season so the train is overbooked. Also, we had unreserved seating because we spent the last of our free money on Kobe beef. Consequently we had to stand for over three hours in the crowded ass train with not enough ventilation on our trip back to Tokyo.
I started whining to Kim that my feet hurt and how much this sucks, but then she motioned to a 10 year old kid playing a DS and a 60 year old man reading a newspaper while standing. In fact nobody was complaining at all about the conditions on the train. This could never ever work in America. First people in America are way too big (not just fat but BIG in general) for these trains. And second somebody would start bitching and making life miserable for all the other passengers within the first 10 minutes. Train conductors in America could never get away with shoving passengers into the train while screaming to those on board, “Make room, make room!” They would get sued and/or get a punch in the face. As I thought of this it made the discomfort in my weary legs and feet feel better.
So now we’re back from one of the best trips ever, broke but happy. I hope when we go back to America I can find a job where I get so many days off. Except it’s never really enough is it? I guess I have to go back though to make more money so I can go on more awesome trips. Picture of gold temple in Kyoto... I want some gold.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
