School days, school days

Time passing.

I love all my students. But I can't help growing more attached to some than others. It's rather sad that in a few months I will leave and become mostly a distant memory to them, probably one of many such figures of childhood. Take 8 year old Ayaka, a bright girl of Chinese background who was one of my most difficult students in the beginning, once pulling out her cell phone in class and walking out of the room to talk on it. I don't know whether it is the maturity of a few months or if that was just new teacher hijinks, but every week she is one of the strongest and liveliest students in any of my classes. Last week after class she related a story to me about how in the beginning her mother thought my name was "Miffy." "She called you Miffy Sensei!" Ayaka told me in Japanese, the hilarity and ludicrousness of it terribly exciting to her.
In another class there is a girl slightly older, still lively and smiling but who never talks to me in Japanese or tries out new English. She does the lessons well and isn't shy but doesn't crave attention (a trait that is found in most of my favorite students). Still, every week when she comes early she waits next to me at the entrance and smiles and laughs at the goofy and potentially unintelligible things I say to her.
In that same class is Kento, who try as I might will always, always crack me up even if I am trying to have my strict face on. Everytime I see him he looks like he wants to say something, but of course our communication is limited so he just does something funny or disruptive instead. I shouldn't get ahead of myself, but I know I'll miss them terribly.

Ducklings

Animal prints


Yesterday I went to a birthday party in Daikanyama, and one of the guests brought his children. I asked the little girl, who is Japanese/Jamaican, what she thought of adult parties, "boring," she replied. For a while though she had fun by trading shoes and dancing with one of the guests. What lives the children of bohemians must lead.

****

This week I had a couple moments where I felt like a mama bird feeding English into the mouths of little baby birds, but in a good way, not a gross, regurgitative way. It's so funny sometimes to look at these little people, so cute and helpless who would have no way of learning English unless I came to back to the nest week after week. This image came to me in two separate classes of four and five year olds, the first because the kids were so well behaved and chirping happily. When we played a game to practice the unit's body vocabulary that consisted of pulling cards out of an envelope and saying the name of the picture they saw, four kids in a row pulled out "stomach." Second time was exciting, third time funny and the fourth time was both so hilarious and exciting that two girls spontaneously hugged each other. It might have been one of the single cutest things I have ever seen.

The next class was actually closer to kittens in that I couldn't keep them from mewing and crawling all over me. One of the little boys in that class loves to talk like a little girl and says everything in a high pitched, cutesy baby voice. It was as if he read my mind about being the mama bird/cat and kept calling me "ma ma." I had to tell him, "Kento I'm not your mother, my name is Sophie," and then he respectfully referred to me as Sophie-san. That class is especially noticeable for being physical and one of the boys is constantly rolling around and pulling the other boys to wrestle and a couple of the other boys, if not engaged in wrestling, will keep coming closer and closer to me and want to grasp my feet and legs so I have to sit seiza and lay down some boundaries. And while it's weird to tell little kids "don't touch me," I must put English learning ahead of all distractions. Yesterday one boy tells me, "sensei daisuki yo" which starts a meowing chorus of this from the other students. I have never received so many declarations of affection in my life. I politely told them thank you and asked them to please focus on learning the human anatomy in English. Kittens.

This entry is not meant to be read but had to be written if I was ever going to sleep tonight.

Well my school is a breeding ground of disease. Despite washing my hands after every class and instituting severe high five cut backs the little children I still got sick again this week, making it the 5th or so time since October. Clearly there is some underlying cause (sinusitis, allergies, horrible mysterious illness) but the dry, dry heater air acts like a virus incubator and preps the nasal passages for quick absorption. And we can't avoid talking. Trooper that I am, I didn't miss any work and dedicated myself to sleeping in my free time.

One of the cardinal sins of interpersonal skills at my company is "moodiness," and god if I don't want to sometimes yell at the students, "I am not moody goddamn it I am sick leave me alone." Really though, I don't say that. I just smile. I am have gotten so good at hiding my lack of desire to smile by smiling that I sometimes wonder if I am the same dour faced adolescent who looked so much like me (except less attractive bien sur). Some days it is so easy to talkative and outgoing and be the happy, friendly teacher that we promise our students (no joke, our school website advertises how "gradually the teacher will become your friend!" Cultural differences aside, of course). Other days it isn't. Also I have learned that I don't deal with stress well. If I could just accept a stressful situation for what it is and move on maybe I wouldn't get sick so much. But I chew over stress. I think about it until there is nothing left to think about and then I think about something else that is stressful. I imagine that if I think about something enough I can control it. But it doesn't work. I want to be happy-go-lucky. I want to be laid back and take things in stride. I am currently stressing out about being stressed out. Har.

In my limited experience of travelling and working abroad I am going to say that a cultural trait of Americans is that we are a high tension people. There is something not relaxed in most of us and I got a double, freaking triple dose of whatever the hell it is. Some kinds of hectic, hustle and bustle are good--lots of things to do, projects to manage etc. create an environment that buzzes with good energy. I like things fast paced because it keeps me from having to pretend that I am patient and time flies. But things beyond one's control--I have not yet learned to deal with those.

There is one six year old girl I have, Risa, who is by far my most difficult student in any of my classes. Some weeks I deal with her well, or her behavior is not so bad that by ignoring it and moving through the lesson at a good pace I can still maintain the interest of the class and they learn something. Some weeks, like today, I cannot--and I am never sure if this is because she is being especially stubborn or if I am reacting to her the wrong way. Sometimes we end up in a battle of wills. And I should remember that if you enter in a battle of wills with a child you will ALWAYS LOSE. An adult can win by displaying power, sending the child out of the class, chiding them etc., but by doing that you have already admitted defeat: time is wasted, lessons have not been learnt and therefore face is lost. Especially in the short time we have it is better to encourage, placate and distract the child (and this formula is far more the model in Japan than in the U.S.) then try to teach them something about proper "the principle of the thing" behavior. Next week I will remember that.

But Risa is an interesting child--smart, seeking approval and guileless insofar as she doesn't play up on her cuteness to manipulate adults. And she doesn't pretend to be an angel in front of other adults or anything else that is the child's potential universe of cunning. But she will play dead in the middle of an activity and hide in the corner for some mysterious wrong caused to her by her friend, rival and follower, Shiho. The rather intricate drama of friendship, loyalty and betrayal that these two act out every week is almost Shakespearean and something to be seen. And speaking of loyalty, whenever these two are at their worst and I am getting closest to showing my frustration Ryu, who last year declared his love for me, will do his best to work hard and show how good he is. Poor kid. He will probably grow up into a control freak who doesn't handle stress well, just like his beloved teacher. Risa has some dry skin condition that is so severe it breaks open and bleeds in class and looks like dinosaur scales and Shiho one time remarked "Poor Risa!" and Risa said "I am not "poor Risa."" Of course not, you are just a normal six year old child and I have to remember that.

Did I think I would be able to sleep after relating so much excitement? I need to read something heart beat slowing and proof read the above when I am of refreshed mind.

Be still my beating heart

In 1996's "The Decay of Cinema" Susan Sontag laments... the decay of cinema, or rather the decay of the movie going experience. I can't remember particulars of the article. And as I don't like Sontag's writing about cinema, or anything with the words "The Decay of Cinema" in it, I have no intentions to reread it and in order to clearly state what is about. However, I was very struck by her description of going to see a movie, so much so that every time I go to a theater it creeps up in my mind. Luckily, I was able to spot the passage I found so beautiful without having to read much of the article: "The desire to lose yourself in other people's lives...faces. This is a larger, more inclusive form of desire embodied in the movie going experience. Even more than what you appropriated for yourself was the experience of surrender to, of being transported by, what was on the screen. You wanted to be kidnapped by the movie"(ellipses in original). Narrative is such a compelling thing in all its varied form, but for me the particular thrill of movies is the narration and that goes along with the faces, the sets, the costumes--all which you get to see so close up. Sontag singles out "faces" and for me toothey are a singular draw of movies. (And of sitting in a coffee shop and people watching.) But all theater experiences are not the same. Sometimes the kidnapping doesn't happen, but when it does...

I saw The Departed in the theater tonight. I hope that I can sleep. Maybe eventually I will be able to describe my feelings concerning it. Maybe I never will be. Lately (meaning as long as I can remember) I feel a lot of things and think that they would be good written down and then I never write them. And since I cannot explain my thoughts in writing they are incomplete. I lack the ability to express myself as I would like in language and then get frustrated and suffer more for lack of practice. Undeveloped thoughts are like the things that come into your head before you fall asleep that you are sure are interesting but can never remember what they are. Sometimes all my thoughts, plans and ambitions are like that. Do I believe that in writing them they will dry up? Or maybe it is just a lack of ability that masks itself as laziness, and that is perhaps the perpetual problem of people like me who sense they have ability for something but never find out what it is...

Anyway, it was a wonderful movie and I was in need of kidnapping.



A girl could get lost in face like that.

Breaking up is hard to do

I just called to say I love you.



So today I had renewal talks with my manager. Since I knew they were coming I gave it a lot of thought and contrary to what I intended about a month ago, I will not renew. My decision was so definite that in order not to run the risk of changing my mind I did not take any time to consider their offer but told them I had no intention to renew. Even though this means I still have six months here I have begun to go into good-bye mode, making a pact with myself to save money and not acquire any more positions and if I really concentrated I could probably make myself teary eyed over the prospect of saying good-bye to some some of the kid students. I am not even kidding; I really love them all. Even the stupid ones.

As for the adults, there are a couple of students that I will feel almost guilty saying good-bye to, but at the end of the day when it is all said and done and the dye is cast I don't have enough connection with any of them for the human ties effect to cancel out itchy feet effect. I like new things. I like picking up and leaving and that is a problem that maybe I will have to face at some point in my life. But not right now. And as a reserved (though for whatever reason people I meet lately don't think I am reserved) emotionally repressed, introspective, slightly paranoid person I sometimes think I don't need to be living in the midst of a reserved, emotionally repressed, introspective, slightly paranoid culture--that I still fail to find comfortingly familiar when necessary. I have decided that I need to go somewhere where people are not punctual, where there is a cultural value on, what are to my anglophonic self, excessive displays of emotion. Maybe when I find said place I will long desperately for for a place with an on time train where a peck on the cheek is as far as PDA goes, who knows.

There's a questions for a social scientist: why does there seem to be a negative correlation between on time trains, meetings etc. and a tendency towards strong, outward displays of emotions (think North America, Northern Europe, Japan on one side and Latin America, Italy on the other. Please ignore such places where the trains never run on time and people still don't show emotion. And may I never visit them.)

Good luck to me.

Breakfast of Champions

Yesterday I went to Sumo for the first time and I have to say it was quite exciting. I got to see celebrity sumo, Kotooshu, from Bulgaria. I think he was by far the trimmest looking sumo is his category.

We also got to taste a sumo food called chanko, which is a healthy mix of vegetables, tofu and meat. However, I did witness sumos eating a less healthy mix of french fries and coke.

Here is me with my fake camera smile. God, I really should be selling this stuff.














Chanko.

Below is an entry I wrote last night. I swear all that negativity was due to indigestion, caused primarily by soft serve and fishy vegetable potato chips at sumo. As for the inarticulateness, prognosis no looky so good.

Hindsight really is 20/20. I shouldn't have had coffee at 8:00 tonight and I should have been born a millionaire. If only the former were so I would be asleep now. As for the latter...I want to move. I am tired of Japan. Maybe I won't renew my contract and maybe I will move to Portugal, which according to wikipedia is, "one of the warmest capitals of Europe." I had too much coffee and I feel sick and inarticulate and am thinking negative, futile thoughts.

A grip of resolutions

I rang in this year with a flurry of resolutions of all types, varieties and sizes. Resolutions are available in personal, public, as well as work and non-work related. Speaking of work, we kicked off the new year in style with a great lunch and goodwill between all members of the crew. Here's to hoping we can keep that attitude up. Not that it won't take work, myself included. I have to work on my consistency of positive attitude. And health. I resolve to never have to suffer temporary deafness again. Other resolutions include:
-to stay better informed about current events.
-to not get annoyed by people trying to tell me things I know.
-to not have to pretend I know more than every other human being on the planet.
-to sleep enough.
-to have enough energy.
-to stop obsessing about the ostensibly virtuous but potentially indulgent and vague project known as "self-improvement."
-to be like Emerson, especially the part about how, according to Henry James Sr., "no man was more austere than he in manners, or less addicted to the arts of pleasing." And I bet Emerson never spent compulsive minutes picking at his split ends.
-to have good manners and be generous and smile a lot, so that everyone likes me.
-to stop picking at my split ends.
-to read more about Japanese history and American history.
-to be like Emerson, except for the part where he thought Jane Austen was an overrated hack.
-to continue to appreciate the genius of Jane Austen, despite social pressures to the contrary.
-to continue to appreciate Keira Knightley's wonderful performance in Pride and Prejudice, despite social pressures to the contrary.

Whew, I feel better now.


Addicted to pleasing.
























Not so burdened.