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Friday, May 28th, 2010 08:59 am
It's test season again, and the students aren't allowed to enter the staff room, lest they see a test being made over a teacher's shoulder. This set the stage for yet another surprising cultural observation.

The kids don't know many of their teacher's names. It's been almost 2 months, and they don't know their teacher's names. What's going on here? I really want to know. Are the teacher's not introducing themselves properly? Do the kids have that short of memories? They have the unfortunate cop-out of being able to call them "sensei" instead of "Mr.X" which I guess helps explain it, but it still appauls me. Especially because in situation's like today's. Some girls were looking for Ki-sensei to give him their notebooks and they were seriously inconvenienced by not being able to enter the staff room because they had no idea how to ask for him. They didn't know his name. The strangest part was, even though he was easily within earshot, they just kept repeating, "aww...mr. what?...what is it?...mr. what?"

With students like this, I should be glad that only a handful of kids and teachers still call me by the Pred's name. In fact, most of them start excitedly whispering my name just when they see me pass...though that probably has more to do with me standing out like a sore thumb.

As an American, I think this name-forgetting business is really really rude. It must not be rude at all in Japanese culture, however, or one of the swarming teachers would have chided them for it, as the teachers here are so prone to doing.

It's really important to remember people's names in U.S. culture. Barring the exception of meeting many people at once and other extenuating circumstances, if you don't know someone's name, it means you don't care enough about them to remember it. It's a particular pet peeve of mine too, having been often forgotten as a youth. All high school students in the States know their teacher's names by the end of the first week of school, for sure...and if for some strange reason they didn't, they sure as hell would be considered rude if they were standing in the hallway muttering about what it might be.

Still, there's probably two factors at work here, even beyond the "Sensei" cop-out. The first is that names are such a personal thing in Japanese culture that even conceptually people here probably don't bind others to their names to begin with. In American culture, on the other hand, you ARE your name and your name IS you. Forgetting someone's name is almost synonymous with forgetting who someone is.

We like to hear our names. If you call your teachers, "teacher," you're likely to get the "...I have a name," response. As far as I know, family names are usually fair game here too, but even then, it's a perspective thing and he is probably first "the teacher" and second, "a member of the Ki family." - at least in the girls' eyes, though judging by where he spends most of his time and energy, I'd say he's first a teacher as well (subtle dig at overwork culture). In the end, I guess it's not rude to forget a name you're not expected to use. Though it sure makes differentiation between people difficult, I guess that's what Japanese culture is about - not differentiating.

The second factor, is that back home we are individuals and we like to be addressed individually. In Japan, there's no need for directness or personal invitations. Though it matches the culture, it also unnecessarily complicates communicating. If there's any question of this, just consider the situation with the girls and the staffroom wasting 5 minutes and how I fretted for 2 months over how to address a table full of teachers (the answer: you don't :P ). Wasted time, wasted time. I see no harm in calling someone's attention, because eventually if you take it too far, being over-courteous wastes time too.

This really reminds me of how well I fit into Japanese culture. My entire life has been spent writing and re-writing emails so that people don't misunderstand my intentions, hesitating over just the right moment to interrupt, rehearsing phonecalls in my head to make them most expedient for the recipient. In short, all the stuff I've spent the last 5 years trying to stop doing. Part of me sees these patterns and thinks, "Wow, I should've been born Japanese. I'd get along well here." or "Gee, I'm glad I got this job, it must be easier for me to live here and to fit in than a lot of other foreigners." Though I have to say, it still kills me seeing the outcome of such Japanese behaviors when they're unsuccessful. I've spent so much time rewiring my brain to fight it that it wants others to do the same when it sees them struggling.

In the end, I think it's good I was born in the States. If I'd grown up in a culture that didn't actively fight this behavior, I'd probably have turned into one of the pained hypershy high school girls I see today. There's at least one in every class. Conversely, I also consider myself a valuable player in keeping American boldness in check. The U.S. and I, we offset each other well, I think. Just when one starts getting out of hand, the other is there to whip it in line. In the long run, I really appreciate how the U.S. reminds me to speak up and not let hesitation squash my identity.

I'm missing home a little right now.
between: (Default)
Thursday, January 28th, 2010 12:16 pm
For the last few days I had quite a slump, but now that I’m feeling more and more grown up in my work and more productive at home things are getting better. Yesterday kind of got off to a rocky start. I forgot to set my alarm and I woke up 5 minutes before I was supposed to be in class. I ran to school and ended up being about 20 minutes late to class, but the teacher hadn’t even told anyone and in the end I think the only people who noticed were him and Batman (because in a frenzy I asked Batman for advice on what to do now that I was late). Apparently there are no repercussions, because everybody likes me so much lol

The Speech of Impending Doom is coming up yet, but I’m really enjoying making the powerpoint. It’s a lot of work, but the more work I put into it the more pictures I have to talk about. It’s nice to have desk work again for a change. I have a lot to do but I’m a lot less stressed than I’d been all week prior to today.

Let me say, I love Wisconsin. Looking at this powerpoint, I’m proud of my home. I miss it, I can’t wait to visit it again, and I relish all of its bounty – cheese, forests, lakes, vegetables, sitting on the shore in the grass. As cliché as those things seem to be, and as typical as they sound to a Wisconsinite, they’re really nice things to be surrounded by and you don’t realize it until you’re not surrounded by them.

I would KILL for a cheese platter right now (I’d kill two people for it if there was a sausage row included). All the years I passed them by on buffet tables, going for the exotic and gourmet, and now nothing sounds better than colbyjack on a cracker. I actually had to take breaks from my powerpoint this morning because the food was taunting me.

Being in Japan has really helped put Wisconsin and my personal culture into perspective. If you are someone who feels so blended into mainstream culture that you think you are cultureless – you need to go abroad. I always felt like my white, working-class, “Christian,” heterosexual existence gave me a little of a culture wash-out. I always knew that wasn’t really true, and yet I didn’t really believe it until now.

I have three points to make in this vein.
1) I like American culture. I didn’t think I did, but I really do. Underneath the materialism, the selfishness, and the fat, there are good things. And let’s face it, the materialism and fat come from a good place too – a desire to live well, to laugh and eat and enjoy life with the people around us. Overindulgence is troublesome, but I’d rather be a jovial and bountiful culture or an emaciated or bland one any day. Of course, there are a million and one wonderful things underneath these three points that I’d taken for granted up until now. I don’t think I need to itemize the list though, considering it’s what half of my blog is about.

2) Thinking about the grander scheme of American culture and trying to make sweeping generalizations about America in order to satisfy the Japanese folks who ask me questions, I’ve realized that nothing is as straightforward as it seems. We all have our own cultures within our families, and I adore mine. We have a good thing going, partially because of where we’re from and what we do, but mostly because of who we are.

3) Wisconsin culture is natural and wonderful and it really sets us apart. It’s largely the same for most Midwesterners, but I’d be born and raised in the Midwest again given the choice. It’s downright charming and I feel like we have nature but also enough civilization and accomplishments that we don’t have to be ashamed for being country folks. We are the Forward state, even if sometimes forward means forward by canoe or forward into a field of corn shaped like a maze.

While I see a lot of travel, maybe a few more stints abroad and graduate school out-of-state, I view Wisconsin as my base and I think it always will be.

I’m very much looking forward to my summer trip home when I will attend the Farmer’s Market in Madison, eat outside in my backyard, and wear cute strappy summer dresses and big sunglasses – all things I can’t really do here, even in the summer.
between: (Default)
Thursday, January 7th, 2010 02:33 pm
I've already mentioned how strange it was being so instantaneously comfortable when I got back home, but what's stranger yet is coming back here to Japan and still being comfortable.

It makes sense that I'm comfortable, considering that I lived here for five months already. What doesn't make sense is that it feels like home; the familiar glow of my living room lamps, navigating the sloping sidewalks, and hearing the constant drone of transportation announcements in super formal Japanese. Not like more of a home than the U.S., mind you, but the U.S. is so familiar that I can't really notice its familiarity even if I want to. Leaving Japan and coming back to it drove home the realization that the last five months really happened - I really do live here! - it wasn't just a dream or even a vacation. In my sleep deprivation and homesickness though, I have to admit that last night it creeped me out a little feeling so used to Japan; I've never had equally active worlds in two places before. My life is my life no matter where I spend it, and that's a lot to wrap one's mind around.

I spent a considerable amount of time staring at a gray wall in Narita airport waiting for my plane to Sapporo, and one of the thoughts I came up with during that time was that I'm not afraid of anything in Japan anymore. I'm really not. Something clicked back home and now not even Japanese is so scary, nor is daily life in Japanese. I know I've hit a benchmark with this trip home, I can feel it. There were so many things that intimidated me and caused hesitation before, but now I understand that risk-taking here has very low risk and very high benefit. I see great strides in my immediate future.

Which is good because I know it's my own fault that social interactions and making mistakes bother me so much. I know part of it is just my personality, but there's no reason for me to get scared and frustrated simply because I set myself up with unrealistic expecatations. Other people who know a lot less Japanese than I do have no shame about it though, so why should I feel bad even after slaughtering entire sentences? (which I never do anyway!) It's time to put on a thick skin and act like a normal human being.

I was a little worried about coming back, especially at the airport when going back felt like nothing more than impending doom separating me from my beloved Wisconsin. Then, hearing Japanese on the loudspeaker, I was reassured. The excitement of foreign language came back and I remembered that I'm living an adventuresome life. The voice of the woman on the loudspeaker triggered an echo of loudspeaker voices I'd heard before, from my first plane ride to Japan when I understood almost nothing during a layover to Thailand, to sitting in O'Hare with other new JETs about to embark, to countless 10 minute trainrides by myself downtown, to obligatory trains across the island on business trips, and to voluntary and daring walks through change-overs in three different stations on my way to seeing my friends in places I'd never been before.

Already as the day goes on and I get bombarded with the familiar sensations of daily life, I feel better and better about being back. A lot of the negativity is gone and it's almost shocking how easy of a transition it's becoming. Every once in a while I get a twinge of pain when I think of a person or thing I won't get to see for another 6-7 months, but it's nowhere near the torment of being in a place you don't want to be. I think what makes it all okay is the fact that technology keeps me so connected to the people I love. It's not perfect, but for a short-term stint it makes it bearable to be apart.

Just like before I came for the first time, the scariest part about going to Japan was trying futilely to figure out what it would be like before I got there.
between: (hydrangea)
Monday, December 28th, 2009 12:20 pm
My brain was back home before my body, even though I was still in Japan. Focusing on my Japanese life was pretty difficult in those last few days as I began planning my day trips to Madison, shopping for Christmas presents, and frantically passing emails back and forth with my parents.

Sure, I had all these ideas about what types of reverse culture shock I might feel - maybe I'd miss the hospitality of Japan, maybe I'd feel too ordinary in my old environment, or maybe I'd think the people were too rude or too aggressive. I thought maybe I'd feel out of place, or at least really confused by all the changes to my life. I considered the possibility that I might not be as loved by my loved ones as I was when I lived in the U.S.

Upon arriving, however, I quickly felt what I least expected. I felt like I'd never left. Granted, I was pretty tired and disenchanted after 12 hours on a plane, but seeing my parents wasn't overly emotional and it just kind of felt like I'd been at school for a few weeks.

While a little lack-luster, this was a good thing. It was very comfortable and I didn't have to waste any time with confusion. It also reminded me that I'm still the same person even after so many new experiences. It soothes me knowing that this life will be more or less waiting for me whenever I want to reclaim it. It's been great for perspective as well, I can see exactly how complete of a life I'd built here in the U.S. and it's a good feeling.

There are other benefits as well. I find myself with few obnoxious ego-centric stories, in fact, even less than when I went off to college. I've only really talked about my life to answer questions, and at that I find myself very mellow. There's not even a temptation toward that braggy excitement that's usually onset when someone starts talking about a big life change. Of course, this makes it really easy to interact with the people around me and I think it reassures all of us that I'm still me. It helps me focus on the things that matter, like my relationships and common ground with the people I love. Similarly, it would seem like living abroad even creates less of an emotional gap than going away to college did. For example, I never worry about whether living in Japan will make me unable to relate to my parents, whereas that's still a very real concern regarding my university experience.

Part of this mellow transition back to the States is because I've done a good job of keeping the people close to me up to speed and so there are little surprises, but I think mostly it stems from how natural my life in Japan feels. It's another thing that marks the difference between visiting a foreign country and living in a foreign country. When you're going into it like a permanent thing, it gives everyone involved a much easier story to conceptualize than a prolonged stay. There's less guesswork and high-running emotions. For that reason, I can't stress enough how different studying abroad and living abroad is. I've never studied abroad, though I wish I'd been able to, but when I talk to former study abroad participants, we have a lot of the same experiences but very different conclusions about them. I can't quite pinpoint how, but I know the differences are very distinct.

Unfortunately, the routine vibe of it all frustrates me a little because I feel so connected, which makes me want to accomplish things, and yet I know that I can't do anything to advance my life here because it's futile when I'm only here for 2 weeks. Ultimately I do wish things were a little higher energy and flashy sparkles, but in the end I'm confident that this is best for all of us. Time and communication here passes easily and for my own well-being I've been sure to keep up with Hokkaido online just like I kept up with Wisconsin when I was in Japan. I think it's important to emphasize in my own head that both places exist. I'll get more out of this experience if I don't pretend like I can turn one life off in order to focus on the other.