Graduation Sensation

The Japanese love ceremonies. There is a ceremony for graduation, an opening ceremony at the beginning of the school year, a ceremony for the start of each new semester, a closing ceremony for each semester and a ceremony at the beginning of each festival and event.

I went to Rural School #1’s graduation ceremony this year. Not my first choice, except I didn’t have a choice since I was scheduled there by the Board of Education. Hell I’m just happy I didn’t have to go to The Ghost School. First the students file in, a few somber songs are sung, then the principal gives a long winded speech. Not to be outdone the vice principal then gives his oration to the crowd and so on and so on and so on. After the 20^th PTA member’s speech the 6^th graders finally receive their diplomas.

The most boring offender was the third principal who rambled on monotonously for twenty minutes. I was shocked to see the principal nodding off in the middle of the speech. I look around and several people have their eyes closed and heads back. I’m told later that this is acceptable because the listener is concentrating/meditating not sleeping. That’s great, but I really don’t think the principal was concentrating too hard with this neck slumped back and I could have sworn he was snoring a little. Well the man is in his mid seventies so I give him credit for staying awake as long as he did.

Only 45 graduating 6^th graders were at the ceremony but the resourceful Japanese managed to stretch it out for 6 ½ hours. Luckily there were breaks in between for pictures and a meal before more speeches, skits, a video and plenty more pomp and ceremony.

Even I gave an impromptu speech for a few minutes. Using stock phrases of encouragement mixed with some simple English I thanked everyone and asked them to do their best next year as well.

Some people hold a stereotype about the Japanese that they don’t show their emotions. Well these people have never been to a Japanese graduation ceremony. Students, parents and teachers bawled their eyes out continuously throughout the day. At Kim’s junior high school everyone cried as well.

I was swept away by the tide of emotion as well when I was presented with flowers and thank you letters written by the students. I received the same gifts at a two other schools as well, but receiving them during the graduation ceremony was special.

99% of the letters are in Japanese and say roughly the same thing. They thank me for teaching them and assure me that they DO remember what I taught them and that it was fun. I was happily surprised to find some letters in English.


I’m glad he remembers his ABCs at least.


This boy is so thoughtful. Not only did he write me an awesome thank you letter in English he also took the time to translate the sounds in katakana Japanese script over the words. Just in case I forgot how to read English I guess.

In addition to this near perfect letter the 6^th grade girl who wrote it also asked me to marry her. I turned her and a couple other emotionally sensitive graduating twelve year olds down gently.

Not all of the love confessions I received the last week of school were from girls. My ethnicity, the age difference, the fact that I’m already married and my sexual orientation doesn’t deter these kids so I don’t know what ever will.

I also received some pictures of me in addition to the letters.


With my glasses on I do sort of look like a FABULOUS Harry Potter.


The effeminate man to the left with the white shirt and purple shoes? Yep that’s me.


This is probably the best non-manga looking portrait I could ask for.

There are also a few doodles of me with some exaggerated body parts I chose out of good taste not to add.

Now Kim and I have nearly two weeks off until the beginning of the school year. Plenty of time to sit under the cherry trees and view the pink blossoms while getting completely shit faced off sake. It’s a Japanese tradition after all right?

I Suffer From Low Expectations

In Japan people are categorized into two groups: Japanese and not Japanese. Since I am a white man with blonde hair and blue eyes who is a head taller than most people it’s obvious to everyone that I fall into the latter category. The Japanese culture and language is very unique and many Japanese people tend to think that it is impossible for foreigners to learn. Because of this I suffer from low expectations.

One word I hear a lot is “joozu” or skillful/good at. Anything remotely Japanese I do is followed up by clamors of, “Joozu! Joozu!” by astonished Japanese onlookers. People that have known me awhile aren’t surprised to see me eating mochi or talk about my weekend in Japanese, it’s the newcomers that are floored by the startling realization that a gaijin can do these exclusively Japanese activities.

The worst offenders are the ones who continue with condescending joozus over and over making me feel like an infant or well trained animal mimicking their Japanese. Now whenever these offenders use any English or have any knowledge of western culture I counter with, “Joozu! Joozu! Wow your English is so good! I can’t believe you know that! How long did you study English in America?” Embarrassed, the offenders usually stop their condescending remarks.

Japanese coworkers, students and friends alike love playing the game, ‘Can you eat…?’ I get asked, “Can you eat… tempura?” Yes. “Wahhh Joozu!” “Can you eat…sushi?” Yes. “Waaaaahhh! Hontoni? Joozuuuu!” Can you eat… natto?” Ummm no. “Ahhhhhh sodesune.” I find fermented soybeans in fungus pungent and disgusting so no, I cannot eat natto. The Japanese think every answer, yes or no, is hilarious, especially natto.

I still eat school lunch with the kids every day. When I get an older female teacher I’ve come to expect heaped on piles of joozus for every thing I do. The kids don’t think it is out of the ordinary that I can eat fish or miso soup and use chopsticks, which just makes the teachers want to point out just how goddamned joozu it is even more. These teachers have a hard wired mindset that gaijin can’t do anything Japanese.

A few weeks ago I was eating lunch in a 1^st grade class with an elderly teacher and I saw the joozu twinkle in her eye as she spied me using chopsticks. She yells at the kids to all stop eating and marvel at this miracle gaijin. Quoting her, “Gaijin can only use forks knives and spoons but never chopsticks. Everyone watch Michael-sensei use chopsticks. Isn’t it amazing how joozu he is?” The 1^st graders aping their teacher commenced with the joozus. I rebuffed by stating that there are many Chinese and Japanese restaurants in America and many Americans can use chopsticks. The elderly teacher acted like she didn’t hear me and went on proclaiming how joozu I am.

Ms. S is a nice teacher at Big Rice Field. Whenever I’m reading, writing or studying she is looking over my shoulder and asks what I’m doing. Most Japanese tend to do the over the shoulder look which in America is considered rude but in Japan it’s normal. Ms. S is particularly nosy. I was writing a thank you letter in Japanese to a teacher that invited Kim and I over his house for a night of sukiyaki and heavy drinking. Before I’m able to cover the letter up Ms. S has hunkered down over my shoulder. When I react by turning around she deftly plucks the letter from the desk and reads it.

Ms. S: *gasp* “What’s this… WHO WROTE THIS LETTER? WHO… WROTE… THIS… LET…TER!?”
Me: “Me?”
Ms. S: *squeals* “JOOZUUUUUUUUUUU!”

Of course everyone else in the room wants to know what the fuss is about and Ms. S is all to happy to share the joozu gold with others. Any denials of being joozu just means I am joozu AND modest which just makes me even more Japanese and joozu.

It’s not just teachers at The Ghost School who refuse to acknowledge that I know any Japanese, it’s the Japanese public. I do not speak fluently. I make mistakes and my accent is only decent. Often times I’ll say something in Japanese and get the dumbstruck doggy look. This is the look when a Japanese person stares at me blankly then tilts their head to one side and utters something akin to, “Aruu?” Repeating what I said or saying something else in Japanese that is very simple and I KNOW should be intelligible doesn’t help. They see my white face and hear me speaking Japanese and they cannot comprehend the two together, thus the dumbstruck doggy look. Friends and coworkers that I speak to often can understand me perfectly even with much more complicated Japanese conversations so it’s really frustrating to say something correctly and still get, “Aruu?” as a response.

Every time I ask for directions in Japanese the person responds in English even when I say Japanese is okay. 90% of the time the speaker will give up using their halting English halfway through and finish in extremely rapid Japanese.

When some Japanese people see me they get very excited to use the half dozen English words they’ve retained through their 8+ years of English education. The first few months I was in Japan I obliged everyone I met and talked to them and gave them some pointers. After awhile I got fed up with giving free English lessons. At school speaking English is my job, but in public I should be using Japanese.

My rule now is if I can speak better Japanese then they can speak English I’m only using Japanese. However, if their English is better than my Japanese then we can speak English. Three times I’ve told persistent strangers hocking for a free English lesson that I’m German and can’t speak English. Too bad I can’t use this excuse more often because I’m usually with Kim and we are speaking English. It works really well. Twice the strangers walked away embarrassed and the other time I had an interesting conversation in Japanese.

Kim has the opposite problem. Everyone thinks she speaks Japanese because she’s Asian. The look of shock and disappointment on their faces after she speaks a few words of Japanese in an American accent or uses English is hilarious to me, but annoys her. Reversely she finds the doggy dumbstruck look funny while it bugs the hell out of me.

When Kim and I are at a restaurant I’ll order our food and afterwards the waitress will stop and stare at Kim for confirmation. After a few seconds go by and Kim doesn’t say anything the waitress glances back at me then back to Kim, nodding impatiently. Kim will either nod back or if annoyed say, “What?” or “Yes?” in English. A look of realization sweeps over the waitress' face as she reads back our order to us and scurries off. If she understood me enough to get the order right why does she need a Japanese looking person’s confirmation? This happens almost every time.

Living in a foreign country one can’t just learn the language through osmosis. (That would be awesome though.) There are frustrating obstacles to learning already but when so many people refuse to acknowledge that I can speak or become doggy dumbstruck by my white face coupled with Japanese words the frustration is compounded. I’ll always be in the ‘not Japanese’ category which means I’ll always suffer from low expectations. I’m not giving up though! Every Japanese person I meet and am able to talk to even a little bit is a personal victory for me.

Krispy Kreme Kraziness

Donuts in Japan are not good. The most popular chain, Mister Donut, sells a variety of sub par donuts all of which are wanting in texture and richness. Same goes for Japanese ice cream. They just don’t have that element of fattiness that makes these desserts in America such a guilty pleasure.

Kim and I were walking by Shinjuku station last weekend and there it was, a Krispy Kreme! We were in a hurry to catch another train but we vowed to come back at night and get us some real donuts later. Fast forward to about 7:00pm and this is what we’re greeted with.


Over an hour for freaking donuts!? By now I’m used to queuing up in Japan, but this is ridiculous. Three Krispy Kreme guards were directing the people in line and making sure nobody would jump the queue (accidentally of course.) As I’m walking up to the end of the procession of sixty donut-starved patrons the line guard stops me, motioning towards the department store up the stairs. Up the stairs is a line of people three times as long as below, about 200 feet long. These people were waiting just to get NEAR the queue in front of Krispy Kreme. A mere one hour wait seemed hopeful at best after seeing this second line.


We said, "The HELL with waiting outside in the cold!" and got some Mexican food instead. The Shinjuku Krispy Kreme is the ONLY one in Japan, that’s why it’s so damn busy. Why aren’t there more stores if the Japanese are so crazy over Krispy Kreme donuts? I sort of understand the argument of exclusivity but it’s a freaking donut shop not a Tiffany’s or Louis Vuitton, which there are dozens of just in Ginza.

Also, Happy White Day. In Japan on Valentines Day the men get cheap chocolate so on White Day a month later they have to reciprocate. The Japanese have managed to stretch Valentine’s Day gift giving into two separate holidays. Hurray for capitalism, but I still can’t get a decent donut.

My Schools

Working at five elementary schools I get to see a lot of the Japanese educational system. Every school is a different experience, some good some not so much.

Rural School #1 and #2

Two of the schools I go to are out in the boondocks. They are small, hard to find and surrounded by stretches of farmland. These schools are pretty unspectacular except for the fact that they’re a bitch to get to and crowing roosters are constantly interrupting the morning classes. They are so similar I went to the wrong school once and was there for about 10 minutes until I realized I was scheduled at the other one that day. Rural School #1 and #2 are a little boring but the people are courteous and it’s a nice break from the insanity of the other Elementary schools.

At Rural School #1 there is a 6^th grade boy obsessed with obtaining $50 from me. Without fail he comes after me in the teacher’s room demanding I fork over my American cash.

$50 Boy: “Give me 50 dollars! Where’s my 50 dollars?!”
Me: “I don’t have 50 dollars.”
$50 Boy: “Liar! I want 50 dollars!”
Me: “I don’t have any American money at all”
$50 Boy: “I’ll give you 50 yen if you give me 50 dollars. Pleeeeeeeeease?”
Me: “FOR THE LAST TIME I DON’T HAVE 50 DOLLARS!”
$50 Boy: “Cheapsake! Liar! I’ll get my 50 dollars later.”

This has been going on for five months. I thought he would give up with time but it’s just gotten worse. In class he rounds up his friends and then I have 6-7 boys all demanding $50. I have no idea how $50 Boy arrived at the figure of $50 as the price I should pay him, it’s just so random.

Yumi, a 6^th grade girl at Rural School #1 speaks the best English of any student I have. Her teacher happens to know next to nothing. Yumi is always correcting the teacher’s bad English. To me this is soooo sweet and hilarious. Before the teacher would tell the students confusing or incorrect answers, but after being put in her place over and over by her own student the teacher just stands back and lets me teach. Out of all my students I’ll miss Yumi the most when she graduates this month.

Rural School #2 is really into music. The loudspeaker is constantly blaring some awful J-Pop or inappropriate American song. Gotta love the Ayumi Hamasaki, Michael Jackson, Exile, and Carpenters mix tape, or not. Every other school’s lesson starts with an English song that lasts 2-3 minutes. At Rural School #2 the song lasts about 15 minutes including practice with the lyrics, choreography, and singing the damn song twice. At Rural School #2 I’m known as a dancer because of the moves I bust out during the English songs. Kids are always asking me to pop block or snap my neck rhythmically to the music currently screeching throughout the school.

All the girls from grades 4-6 LOVE Disney’s High School Musical. They skip around the halls holdings hands and sing at the top of their lungs. IN ENGLISH. Yey! They are learning through song! On a few occasions I’ve walked up to a group of them and asked, “How are you?” Girls: “Ehhhhhhhhh I don’t understand English!” Then they skip away singing ‘Bop to the Top’ together in perfect unison.

Big Rice Field Elementary

The adventures of Big Rice Field Elementary are never ending. This is the school of Cartman and Penis Boy and most of the physical exploits. Dangerous? Yes, but still fun. I get the celebrity treatment here. When some kids spot me they’ll shout, “IT’S MICHAEL SENSEI!” and flock around me trying to touch me, talk to me or get my autograph. There is not much English spoken in the teacher’s room outside of ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ but most of the people are friendly and I have had many great conversations with them using a mix of Japanese and sign language.

Almost every week I get a new nickname or do something that all the kids copy for awhile. Luckily unlike other schools they forget quickly and pick up on something else. Two weeks ago students spotted me using my SoftBank phone and for awhile would point and yell at me, “Look it’s Brad Pitt! He’s so cool looking!” Too bad it didn’t last. The next week week at lunch some boys asked me, “Do you like Anpanman?” I said, “I LOVE Anpanman!” Then blew up my cheeks full of air and smiled. This floored the entire class with laugher and the rumor spread that I am in fact Anpanman in disguise with much pointing and laughing. I hope this one doesn’t last.

Brad Pitt is one of the biggest ad whores in Japan. Only second to Cameron Diaz. (left)

The superhero made of sweet red bean paste and his yeasty companions fight evil germs. He saves hungry people by letting them eat his head. Probably the most beloved children's cartoon character in Japan. (right)

I introduced thumb wrestling to BRF in an attempt to get the boys and their busy little hands to stop trying to prod my anus or grab my genitals. The results were mixed. The boys that thumb wrestle don’t go after me as much now but the thumb wrestling ends up leading to real wrestling which leads to more inappropriate touching. Oh well. The older boys love to test their strength on me by arm wrestling as well. It will be a sad sad day when I am beat by a twelve year old. Luckily there are no Little Hercules kids at BRF so I’m safe for now.

The principal at BRF has taken a marked interest in me. Every morning before I even have a chance to sit down the old man is at my desk with a pad of notes asking me questions about America, English grammar, my opinions about news events and so on. Then it’s time for my Japanese word of the day. He’s a nice old man and I like talking to him but I need this morning time to set up materials for 1^st period. Must not offend kind old man… but must get ready for work. Ugh.

The Ghost School

The Ghost School is an enormous facility, almost as large as Big Rice Field, except a mere 200 students roam The Ghost School’s cavernous halls. The teachers are the most depressed lot of sad sacks I’ve ever seen. When I walk into the teacher’s room the staff all have their heads down, nobody greets me.

At every school I go to there is at least one teacher who dislikes/fears English and consequently dislikes/fears me intensely. These hater types only give me 25 minutes or so for a 45 minute lesson all the while hindering my lecture further by bemoaning how hard English is, how there isn’t time for a game, and how the kids don’t understand at all. Unfortunately EVERY DAMN TEACHER is like this at The Ghost School.

For the short time that I struggle to teach the homeroom teacher is constantly quipping, “Hmmmm this is really difficult, right? English is soooo hard! Hahaha I don’t understand this at all!” Or when I pause for a few seconds the homeroom hater will address the class with, “I know this is too difficult but just put up with it for a little longer.” If I happen to say a word that sounds like a Japanese one the teachers will stop the lesson, cutting me off, and point out how HILARIOUS it is that the English word I said sounds like a Japanese word with a different meaning.

A group of 5^th graders at The Ghost School have taken to greeting me with a hearty, “What up nigga!” every time they see me. The first time I heard this I was shocked and my face showed it. I tried to play it off like it was nothing but the bastard boys saw my initial surprise so they always greet me with it. Luckily it hasn’t spread past a handful of the bastard 5^th graders.

A bad habit that has proliferated throughout the entire school is flippin’ the bird. The kids find it utterly hysterical to flip each other off then run away screaming. They flip off each other, the entire faculty, and me. Many of the teachers feign anger and flip them off back. I just sit back calmly and act like it’s nothing all the while hoping one of these kids get to visit America some day.

None of the staff will talk to me unless they absolutely have to for a lesson plan. They use a mix of incomprehensible pidgin English and sign language to communicate. I speak back in Japanese. I’ve tried asking the staff to converse with me in Japanese because I’ll understand them better but they all steadfastly refuse. As a result the lesson does not go as the teachers want it to go and they become even more disenfranchised with English.

Some staff members at The Ghost School dislike English so much they won’t even look at me and if I’m walking towards them they will scurry away lest I brush up against them and infect them with my English. At the Ghost School I am the ghost. I am a scary white apparition who comes in, makes a lot of inexplicably strange noise and leaves the place terrified.

The Love School

My favorite school is The Love School. The faculty is really nice, fun and outgoing. Although some of the kids are crazy none are mean or hostile. The English planner, who at every school is supposed to help plan lessons but rarely does, is a great person who *gasp* can actually speak intelligible English. It’s Amazing. Nothing worse than a teacher telling me to teach kids: “What like animal?” “Dog I like.” Then when I suggest some minor changes they get huffy and offended. With Ms. U we work together to come up with some great lessons that I end up using at the other schools as well.

The Love School is always fun although I’m still considered somewhat of a pervert. This is the school of the Cicada Sensei incident. I’ve received about a dozen love letters from girls here. Most are innocent and cute, but a few are a little heavy on the innuendo. Kids, they grow up fast.

When I eat lunch with the students or I’m showing off by dunking some basketballs on the playground (the basket is MUCH shorter) girls AND boys run up to me asking if I like/love them. I say, “As a friend” and “Oooooo look at my ring! Sorry I’m married." The kids are persistent and have follow up questions like, “Who is the cutest girl/boy in class?” With this question I grab a random homely looking child and say this is the cutest one. Exasperated cries of, “No way! Really!” follow.

A group of giggling 6^th grade girls ran up to me during recess and pushing a cute, tall girl in my face said, “She is very cute and sexy! Do you want to have sex with her?” What the hell? What threw me off the most is that ‘sexy’, ’cute’ and ‘sex’ were all in English. Where are they learning these words? NO I do not want to have sex with a twelve-year-old Japanese schoolgirl. Although going to Akihabara in Tokyo and seeing the hordes of creepy old men scavenging through the mass volumes of Lolita porn makes me think a lot of Japanese men would.

Everyday an English learning song plays over the loudspeaker while the students sing in class. Also, everyday an English learning video featuring Australian actors performing a ridiculous English skit plays on the classroom televisions. The Love School is a little overzealous with their love of English sometimes. It really is the opposite of The Ghost School. Another difference is that The Love School has about 550 students but the school building is smaller than The Ghost School’s. There are 40 or so students per classroom yet they all get along harmoniously.

The principal of The Love School is a woman between the age of 40-70 who always has 10 pounds of face makeup on. I wonder if she ever takes off her makeup or just adds more everyday? A female in charge in Japan has to be infinitely more competent then all her male counterparts to achieve such a position. She is. She’s always busy helping teachers, talking to the PTA and lecturing students. She even gets on her hands and knees cleaning the teacher’s room with the kids. I give her a lot of the credit for making The Love School such a great environment.

Before I became a teacher I never knew that the school staff had such a huge impact on the children. When the teachers are thoughtful and happy the children will be too. However, if the staff are depressed and angry the students will resist learning English by kicking and screaming… and butt poking. Generally there are always going to be bad kids no matter what and angels no matter what. It’s the bulk 80% who are influenced into becoming bastards or saints. This is especially true in Japan where keeping with the group mentality is regarded so highly.