New Year's Parties

The day after I got back, Tsushima High had its New Year's staff party. Our big get-togethers are always at the same restaurant--called Shimamoto--probably because there aren't many places in Tsushima that can accommodate parties of fifty. I talked to Yamamoto-sensei, one of the first-year grammar teachers, and he explained that he chose his field because of an awesome grammar teacher he had in high school. That's the kind of inspiration I dream of being for my students.

Toward the end of the party, Murahashi-sensei--named the host of the party--did impressions of some teachers. He's a clever guy, sometimes obnoxiously so, and loves to imitate others. He nailed the voice and mannerisms of a couple of teachers before he began taking requests. Somebody shouted out "Adam!" After the briefest of pauses, he knelt down and said "Tsumaranai mono desu ga..." That basically means "It's not much, but...", and it's what I learned in high school is appropriate to say when presenting omiyage. It's apparently decently formal Japanese, and nobody else at school says it when giving omiyage. Everybody's amused when I say it, and everybody applauded when Murahashi did it in imitation of me.

On Monday the 24th, I had a party with Chorus D. It was primarily a party to celebrate our getting ready for the big concert in February, but it had a little bit of New Year'sness to it. There were only five of us, and we met at a nifty little restaurant that lets you do your own tempura. I had fun talking to them and eating... for the first two hours. After that, I was ready to go home. They kept right on eating and drinking, though. It wasn't like they were excluding me: they were asking me questions about life in Tsushima, explaining some bit of Tsushima dialect that somebody had used, and things like that. Even after a year and a half, I'm still not used to sitting in a restaurant for longer than two hours, eating and drinking nonstop. It didn't help that we were sitting on cushions on the floor.

Anyway, the party lasted until midnight. Midnight. I haven't been that mad in a long, long time. I kept waiting for the group to leave the restaurant and go on to a bar or karaoke, so I could casually bow out. They never did, and I didn't want to be the only one to stand up and leave, so I sat. I tried my best to understand how these people--three of them married, two of those with children--could be out at midnight on a Monday. I found myself wondering what was wrong with me that I, the youngest in the group by at least ten years, was the crankiest about being out so late. At any rate, I learned never to go out with them during the week again.

On the last Friday of the month, I was invited to a Toyotama High party for the first time ever. It's not that they aren't welcoming to me, but there's a clear distinction that I'm headquartered at Tsushima High, and that I'm on simply a guest at Toyotama. Anyway, Mr. Masuda (husband of Tsushima's Masuda-sensei) picked me up in Izuhara at 6. He had to pick up some sake on the way to the Grand Hotel. We talked a lot, in his surprisingly good English. He explained that his wife is very shy, and when they travel to English-speaking countries, she feeds him the lines and he speaks for both of them.

I sat next to Iwase-sensei at the party, and talked a lot to her. She, Sunada, and Yoshida all told me I'm great; Iwase went further and said I'm the best ALT she's ever had. (Of course, she's had a maximum of four ALTs. Still.) I apologized for all the poorly planned lessons. She fully understands, because, as she says, I'm not a full teacher. She also explained that she had a total of five classes this year, as opposed to the normal two or three, on top of tennis and the student council. That's why she's been so appreciative of me--every bit of work I do is a bit less for her to worry about in two of her classes.

Decision Time

Our decisions about recontracting are due the second week in February. Like last year, I waited until I went home for Christmas to do the most thinking about it. It was a lot tougher to decide than it had been last year.

I looked first at how I felt about having stayed a second year. I chose a second year because I wanted the chance to experience a full academic year, and a second chance at teaching the same curriculum. Working with the new teachers would help smooth out my lessons, and being in Japan a second year would help my Japanese tremendously. Several people at the various orientations warned us that the year would pass before we knew it, and they were absolutely right; most of the first year is still a blur in my mind. In my mind, it would have been a shame to finally get situated in Japan, to finally settle into a rhythm with work and life in general, only to up and leave a few months later.

I still fully agree with all those reasons, and am proud of having made that decision. The case for staying a third year is only slightly different. I would get a third crack at the same lessons, giving me even more time to polish and refine the various parts. New teachers would offer new insights and new suggestions on fine-tuning my technique and my lessons. My Japanese would only get better. I would get the chance to attend the graduation of the students who were first-years when I arrived, something that would be enormously emotionally fulfilling as a teacher.

However, after having gone so long away from home, I've begun feeling the need to be back. Sure, two-week visits are great, and they help me stave off homesickness. What I've started feeling is deeper. I need to be home for longer than two weeks. Nobody has made me feel pressured in the slightest about coming home, either--this is entirely me. I have no doubt that all my family and friends would keep right on supporting me for as long as I wanted to stay away from home.

What bothers me is the realization that I'm slowly getting attached here. I can't help but yearn for the same sense of connection and belonging in Japan as I've had in America. I desperately need to be around friends that I can relate to, that I can talk to and bond with. The other ALTs are great people, but we stay so busy with our schools that we don't get to see each other that often. I've made a couple of friends at school, and all the teachers are great coworkers, but everybody stays so busy with work that there's not much time to hang out with those few teachers who don't have families at home. My Japanese and their English are insufficient for any of the deep conversations I took for granted back home.

If I stayed another year, I don't see myself getting around that. Every day I spend here, increasingly frustrated with my inability to communicate on a deep level with any of the people I see every day, is one more day since the last time I saw my family and friends at home. Despite the unconditional love and acceptance I get from all of them, I understand that those relationships can only survive so long on occasional visits, postcards, and the occasional phone call. While I have no doubt I'll always be able to hit it off with any of my friends after any number of years without having seen them, the familiarity won't be as strong. I don't want to lose any more of that connection than I have already.

Nothing about the drawbacks taints the benefits of staying or going. It'd break my heart to say goodbye to the teachers and students, while I'd be overjoyed to be a domestic phone call and a reasonably short drive from friends and family; it'd hurt a great deal to miss even more of my cousins' remaining childhood, while every day I'd keep on falling in love with my job all over again. I think part of being a grown-up is having to choose not between the right thing and the wrong thing, but between two great things that have fine print.

With all this in mind (and a lot more, believe me), I've decided not to recontract. I'm not deciding to go home for forever and ever amen, but that I just need to be at home for a while. Now I get to spend six months saying goodbye.

January Wrap-up

The Saturday after I got back, I met Rose for lunch at Mos. We hung out for the afternoon and cooked spaghetti together at my place. It turned out pretty nice, especially with garlic butter melted on slices of a baguette from the local bakery.

Monday was Coming of Age Day. Not wanting to waste a three-day weekend, Joey, Joe, and I had talked back in December about going to Korea. I was kind of pooped from the trip, so I decided to pass. Besides, I'd rather not spend a couple of hundred dollars to be in freezing weather--even if there's Pizza Hut and Krispy Kreme--when I can wait until summer.

On Tuesday, I had one of my last classes with the Toyotama third-years. I'd spent a couple of lessons trying to teach them basic English rhyme and rhythm. They'd done fine with rhymes involving sounds that are the same (or almost the same) in English and Japanese (bed, sweet, etc.). Sounds not present in Japanese gave them trouble, but they got the gist of it. I even went so far as to try iambic pentameter, solely to get them to accent syllables. They were highly amused, and they got the idea, but I don't think it stuck.

Anyway, Tuesday I brought a Dr. Seuss book with me. Inspiration had struck at the Barnes & Noble in Springfield, and I'd bought three of his books. Looking at all three--Horton Hears a Who!, Oh, the Places You'll Go!, and And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street--Iwase-sensei and I decided on the last one, mainly because it was the shortest. The six of us sat in a circle and took turns reading a page. It didn't work out very well, but they picked up on the rhyme pattern.

I went up to Joey's on the weekend of the 24th. Bracing myself for a day and night of the usual craziness, I was surprised to find Joey, Mike, and Gavin bundled up in blankets watching Chappelle's Show. They had stayed up late partying the night before, and the hangover plus the bitter cold had taken the wind out of their sails. Kim and Joe came over, and the six of us hung out. Mike made tortillas, and we grilled them up and filled them with stir-fry chicken and vegetables. We didn't actually get dinner ready until 10:30, which is pretty much the norm when we party at Joey's.

The night was astoundingly chill. Mike, Kim, Joe, and I played Scrabble, and I used all seven of my letters for the first time ever. ('Citizens' with both blank tiles! 82 points, baby!) We moved on to poker, which we played (for no money) until around midnight. Kim went home, and the rest of us went to bed with Tropic Thunder playing.

Sunday, everybody slept until noon. I found this pretty remarkable, considering we hadn't been up all that late, and there hadn't been any serious drinking. Joe and I headed over to a friend's apartment to see their new cat. They're not technically supposed to have pets, but some of us have pretty relaxed offices who don't really keep up with us. The cat's name was Nagasaki, in honor of the place she was bought. She goes by "Saki" for short. Joe made the awesomely cruel joke that they should get a second cat and name it Hiro.

I headed out soon after, and took my time driving back. I went to Miuda beach, which looked just as gorgeous as it always does. I took a walk along the shore and passed a man and his granddaughter. He struck up conversation with me, asking where I'm from and where I work. He recommended I visit the Korean overlook, a designated spot from which you can see Busan on a clear day. He proceeded to give me advice that was highly reminiscent of small-town-gas-station-attendant directions: "head yonder way about six blocks, hang a left after the big pine tree--you can't miss it; if you see the Piggly Wiggly, you've gone too far." I took his advice, and eventually found the overlook. It was kinda hazy, though, so all I got as a gorgeous view of Tsushima.

Incident at Toyotama

The school day for teachers officially begins with a morning meeting. The principal and head of the office enter the staff room, the bell rings (8:20 at Tsushima High, 8:30 at Toyotama), and the vice principal calls the meeting to order. He greets everyone--"Good morning!"--everyone bows and greets him in return--"Good morning!"--and he hands the meeting over to the head teacher. (The head teacher is a post assigned every year by the principal and vice principal.) The head teacher makes basic announcements involving things like changes to the day's schedule and upcoming events. Other teachers who have announcements to make are given the chance to do so. The vice principal will ask if there are any other announcements; if there are none, he will close the meeting: "That's all; yoroshiku onegaishimasu."

Today, at Toyotama, the last announcement was made by Komatsu-sensei, the dean of students. His tone was very somber and regretful, almost ashamed, as he explained an incident involving two first-year students a few days prior. There was an accompanying handout with the boys' names and a detailed report, but I couldn't read enough of it or understand enough of what Komatsu was saying to keep up. At one point, Komatsu's eyes were glassy; discreetly looking around the staffroom, I saw a couple of other teachers similarly flustered. All I could go by was tone of voice and body language, which let my imagination throw together possible explanations: had the two boys been in a fight? Had they been caught smoking? Had their uniforms not been up to standard?

After the meeting, I asked Iwase-sensei what had happened. The week before, it turned out, the boys had been throwing bits of eraser during class. Some of those bits hit the teacher, who told them to stop. They didn't. This was the same teacher who I had seen yelling at a first-year boy the week before, when that boy had been inexplicably left for a couple of hours in the soundproofed announcement room adjoining the staffroom. As Iwase explained it, I realized that had been the day it had happened, and that was one of the two boys who had done it.

It was also reported that several other teachers had told the same boys to stop doing the same thing. I know of one student who more or less constantly throws bits of eraser during my class (not at me), and Yoshida-sensei's mild scolding never stops him. (ALTs are more or less forbidden from disciplining students, which makes class that much more interesting when I have to fly solo because so-and-so is on a business trip.) It turned out that he was the other student involved in the incident.

After hearing the story from Iwase, I had two diametrically opposed reactions. The first was incredulous: Seriously? Throwing bits of eraser is enough to warrant yelling from the teacher, a ten-minute report during the morning meeting, and accompanying documentation? Warn the student, call his parents, and if he keeps doing it, kick him out of class. The second was disturbed: This is a big deal. Students simply don't display this kind of willful disobedience here. Sure, plenty of them misbehave and most of them get away with it, but to undermine a teacher's authority right in front of him?

Both of those boys seemed to be on much better behavior the rest of the week.

Third-year Easter lessons

As soon as I got back to Tsushima, I went to lunch at Mos. Halfway into my shrimp burger, I got a phone call from Kurokawa-sensei. He apologized for calling me so soon after I got back, but wanted to let me know about a change to the schedule: the next day, Thursday, would use Monday's schedule, which meant we had our third-year class together. Because normal classes for seniors end in January, it also meant that would be our next-to-last class together.

I finished lunch and headed up to school. He and I talked it over, and decided to do an Easter lesson. Despite Easter being a full three months away, I wanted them to get to dye eggs.

I'll save for later all the details about the preparations, but we had the students make pairs, gave each pair a boiled egg, and let them decorate it with crayons and markers, and then dye it with food coloring.

Everybody hated the smell of the vinegar, and none of the students believed me when I swore the egg would taste fine. As I expected, the girls went nuts with decoration, covering their eggs in flowers, hearts, their friends' names, etc. The boys did a good job decorating, too. One of the boys drew boobies on his, and proudly showed it to everyone--girls included.

Back to Japan

My flight out of Springfield was scheduled for a not-too-unreasonable 8:25 departure. Mom, Dad, and I set out right on time. We got to the airport, checked in, and checked my luggage without any weight problems. (Unlike back in August. With a little while to spare, we sat down for breakfast at the airport restaurant. I ordered the smallest-looking menu item I could find, and still ended up with a stack of buttermilk pancakes four inches tall. Knowing better than to stuff myself before going through all the drama of saying goodbye and being in transit for 20-some-odd hours, I only had a few bites.

I said goodbye, feeling bad for being in a hurry, but afraid of missing my flight. I got to the gate to find absolutely nothing going on, and immediately thought they'd already finished boarding. As it turned out, the flight was delayed until 9.

I was worried about making my connection in Dallas on time, but the Dallas-Narita flight was also delayed about an hour for de-icing. One of the last things I remember before passing out was seeing icicles hanging from the plane wings.

During the last few hours of the flight, I wondered what would happen once we landed: I had to take an hour-plus bus from Narita to Haneda, and the combined delays meant I'd have just about that much time before my Haneda-Fukuoka flight departed.

As we landed in Tokyo, though, JAL announced that anybody with connections should check in as soon as they got off the plane. I wasn't sure what they meant until I got to the end of the boarding breezeway thingy, when I saw desks set up with signs indicating connecting flight numbers. Finding mine, I was given a ticket for a new flight, this one from Narita to Fukuoka. Sweet!

I was standing in line at immigration, fishing my customs form out of my bag, when I heard my full name. My first thought was that someone had great English pronunciation, and then I realized I recognized the voice. I looked up to see Clark, a friend from high school. We hadn't seen each other since graduation, and I never knew he had any interest in Japanese. He'd been an ALT for a couple of years, and had stayed on in Japan after finishing the program. He was considering law school--in Japan--but hadn't decided yet. And he was standing in front of me in the immigration line at Tokyo Narita.

I made my Fukuoka connection with no problem, checked in at my hotel, and passed out.

The next day, I went back to Tsushima on the midmorning flight. I had to pay ¥4500 (≈$50) for exceeding the baggage weight allowance, which wasn't bad considering I was 27kg over.

Computer trouble

Remember that one time, a couple of weeks ago, when I talked about avoiding buying things I don't need? You're going to think this post contradicts everything I said then, but I promise it doesn't.

I got this laptop for Christmas in 2005. From that day on, it's been quietly reliable. (It's amazing how long these things will last when open water bottles don't get knocked over onto them.) I've brought it to work with me every day in my JanSport backpack (itself at least ten years old), and it's gotten me through countless slideshows and trivia games for classes.

When I leave school, I stop at the genkan to change from my school shoes into my outside shoes. I pack the school shoes in my backpack, since I alternate between Tsushima High and Toyotama High. As I do this, I put my backpack down. I try to put it down gently, but sometimes (especially when I had to catch the bus, before getting my license) it makes a less-than-soft landing.

Thankfully, this hasn't kept the computer from functioning. Sometime around October, though, I noticed it was making a rather loud whirring noise. After a few minutes, I realized it was coming from the heat sink and cooling fan. The best I can figure out is that one of its harder falls (or accumulative damage from several smaller falls) jostled the fan just enough to cause the vibration of the spinning blades to rattle the casing. It doesn't hurt the performance of the laptop, but it does make a distinct noise, especially noticeable in quiet staffrooms.

This bothered me, but I wasn't about to buy a new laptop just because my current one sounds funny. A couple of weeks before I flew home for Christmas, though, it got worse. I was Skypeing a friend of mine, and she was having trouble hearing me. I tried everything I could think of--restarting my computer, changing the webcam's USB port, closing everything but Skype--but nothing fixed it.

A day or two later, I was listening to music on my computer through my headphones. I turned on a quiet song, and had to turn up the volume to hear it better. As I turned it up, though, I noticed a distinct whirring coming through my headphones. That was the problem: the vibrations from the whirring fan were being picked up by my headphones and my webcam's microphone.

I don't need my computer to run games spectacularly, start up quickly, or run quietly. I do, however, need it to talk to family and friends back home. Counting myself lucky for the problem having occurred right before I went home, I tried troubleshooting. I poked around through Google, finding several spare parts stores, but nobody carried the right part for my model. I resigned myself to getting a new laptop.

I waited for the after-Christmas sales, and made a trip to Best Buy and Circuit City every day after the road trip. Scoffing at anything over $1,000, I kept my eye on the clearance models. I saw several Vaio laptops that fit the bill, and waited a couple of days, wondering if the price would fall even more.

I finally found a returned item whose price sticker didn't match the model printed on the box. When I asked a worker about it, and she scanned it, the price turned out to be a bit higher. According to the box, it ran Vista 64-bit, and included a Blu-Ray player and burner. I didn't care in the slightest about any of those, but it did explain the jump in price. There was a 20% discount on returned items for that day, though, so the price ended up being under $600.

More than a bit nervous about such a big purchase, and wary of its having been returned already, I triple-checked on the return policy before toting it up to the checkout line. I got it home, fired it up, and made sure to check everything out before even thinking about relaxing.

Vista 64-bit is a headache sometimes, mainly because I can't find any free firewall programs compatible with it. (ZoneAlarm has a free beta available, but it sometimes makes my system crash.) However, it does the one thing I need it to do: it runs Skype. It also has a built-in camera that's much better than my old USB webcam, which is an added bonus.

New Year's Day

After spending so much of my visit on road trips, I was determined to stay around the house as much as possible the last few days. The plan for New Year's was easy: Georgia football with Dad. He came home from work a little after noon, armed with beer and hot wings.

After watching the Bulldogs finish last season as arguably the hottest team in the country, begin this season #1, fall in the polls after beating the crap out of admittedly inferior teams, get destroyed by Florida, and edged by Tech, I'd set my expectations pretty low. It's a good thing: the Capital One Bowl was close for most of the way. Thankfully, Georgia finally woke up and finished off Michigan State in the third quarter.

Beer, hot wings, and Georgia football with Dad: it was a good day.