The One Where I Use Titles Of Bob Dylan Songs As Headings

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The Times They Are A Changin’

September brought about a few changes from the previous month. Most notably, there were changes in the weather and in lifestyle. Gone were the hot, humid and lazy days of August where, like a bunch of Villagers, we’d hang out, visit, maybe cluster and roam a little, then cap our hard day of work by sharing a few drinks. September had arrived and we found ourselves scattered about the city of Hiroshima filling eager (and not so eager) minds with the joys of the English language. I had new responsibilities, which necessitated curtailing my enjoyment of certain beverages. Alas, I must apologize to all of you who enjoyed the tales of my intoxicated wanderings; I don’t have as many to share this time around. On the other hand, the lack of drinking stories might be a relief to some (right Mom?).

Generally speaking, September has been another excellent month. I’ve met the staff and students at the two Junior High Schools I’ll be working at; I’ve begun formal study of the Japanese language; I survived the worst typhoon to hit Hiroshima in 13 years; I’ve reconnected with old friends; and I saw an unexpected number of aquarium animals crap. Yup, it’s been a quite a month.

Shelter from the Storm

With the arrival of September came somewhat more tolerable weather. Instead of being really hot and humid, it was slightly less hot and humid. Heck, some days were even downright pleasant. And with daily highs of only high 20s and low 30s, there wasn’t even a hint of snow (jealous? I hope so). At the risk of making the weather sound too ideal though, I must mention that late August through to late October is typhoon season. So while I have certainly enjoyed the milder weather (and the lack of snow), I had to keep a vigilant watch on the movement of those oh-so-wonderful storms that blow in from the Pacific Ocean. Let me tell you, there certainly wasn’t a lack of excitement generated by typhoon activity. Over the last week of August and into the first two weeks of September, we had a weekly typhoon. Then we skipped a week and had another.

Unlike tornadoes, which are almost impossible to predict, you can pinpoint with reasonable accuracy when a typhoon will hit your community. Therefore, we in the JET community use “Typhoon Day” to describe when the typhoon is expected. For example, “Ah, Tuesday will be Typhoon Day. I better not plan to travel by shinkansen (super fast train) as all runs will be cancelled.” Needless to say, Typhoon Day is quite an experience, but after the second or third Typhoon Day, it was starting to get routine. If it’s a school day, I will typically wake up at my usual time and turn on the news to get the latest typhoon updates. Students all over Hiroshima will do the same, then they will breathe a sigh of relief because the typhoon warning has cancelled classes. As the students cheer briefly before returning to bed, I continue to get ready because while it’s not safe for students to go to school, it’s perfectly fine for teachers. As I eat breakfast, I watch news footage of the current situation in Kyushu (the island south west of Japan. If a typhoon is coming to Hiroshima, it will generally go through Kyushu first). Following the footage of the storm’s awesome power, the local weatherman will then tell us how long it will be until we can expect the same fury in our fair city. (usually, mid afternoon) After breakfast, I head out on my way to work and take momentary pleasure in the fact that I can actually get a seat on the streetcar because half the people who normally ride with me are safe at home. Once I get to school, I will talk about the typhoon with the other staff (the Japanese will typically start conversations by discussing the weather, not unlike North Americans). Without fail, at least one of the staff will ask me, “do you have typhoons in Canada?” “Kind of” I will reply before explaining the difference between typhoons and hurricanes. I also make sure to explain that Edmonton is very far from the ocean so “no, we’ve never had a hurricane in Edmonton.” (If I don’t tell people this, they will ask, believe me). But to dispel the notion that I’m bragging about Edmonton’s relative safety, I tell my Japanese colleagues about tornadoes. After I’m done, they will ask if school is cancelled in the event of a tornado and I then say tornadoes typically occur in summer when school is out anyway. Next, for my pleasure more than anything else, I tell them that we will close the schools on occasions when the temperature drops to -40 degrees Celsius or lower. My Japanese colleagues will respond with a shocked, “ah, so cold,” and walk away with an _expression of complete and utter horror on their faces. Meanwhile, I smile smugly because I still get a kick out of telling people the temperatures we Canucks endure during winter. Around this time I settle into some form of looking busy for a few hours until my supervisor tells me to go home because it is getting very dangerous outside. So I slowly pack up my belongings, waiting for one of my colleagues to take pity on me and offer me a ride home. Once I’m safely home, I take the time to catch up on all those things that have been neglected (this usually includes emailing, cleaning or sleeping). Outside the storm will rage and occasionally I’ll hear the sounds of branches hitting buildings, bikes being blown over, and tin roofs being torn from sheds. All the while I sit in my little apartment, secure in the knowledge that my building, which is tucked in behind several larger buildings, is quite safe from the tumultuous winds. In the early evening the worst of the storm will have passed, at which point some of the other JETers and I will call each other and talk about our Typhoon Day experiences. Finally, as Typhoon Day draws to a close, I put myself to bed and take a moment to appreciate the quietness that surrounds me. Ah, all’s well in Hiroshima, and it will be a whole week before I have to do it all over again.

Tangled up in School

For many of us, September meant returning to school. This was no exception in Hiroshima. And of all the people who returned to school, I think I was the most nervous. My nervousness was due in part to the fact that it was my first day in not only a new school, but a new school in a new country where I don’t know the school system or the culture, never mind the language. The other reason for my nervousness was I had to give a speech at a general assembly for the entire school body, in Japanese! I had very little Japanese at this time, but I managed to find an excellent resource amongst my JET literature that dealt specifically with writing welcome speeches for general assemblies. I copied out a bunch of sentences, glancing briefly at their meaning to make sure I wasn’t asking the student body for cheese or the location of the bathroom, and set to work on pronunciation. I was ready.

Once my speech was over and properly ended with “doozo yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” (I hope our relationship will be a happy one) I figured I had managed to pull it off rather well and at the same time come across as pretty impressive with my command of Japanese. I later learned that, while I was rehearsing my speech, everything I was about to say was, at that moment, being said by the school principle as he introduced me. I soon took to the stage to tell the students that I was from Edmonton, Canada and I came to Japan on the 25th of July and it was my first time here. Information which, unfortunately, they already knew. There’s nothing quite so irritating as having someone else steal your thunder is there? Luckily for me, Japan is a very polite society; so despite my redundancy, the other teachers kindly praised me for my excellent speech and “good” Japanese.

As the speeches ended and school properly opened, it was time to get down to work. The first order of business for me was to do what is called the “Self Introduction.” As the name implies, I introduce myself to my students and talk about my country and then answer any questions they might have. Now, in this first month of school, I had several assumptions smashed. One assumption I held was that the students would have good grasp of English, having studied it for so long. Second, I assumed that I would have maybe four or so classes that I would see everyday and together we’d study English until the end of the first term, just as we do in Canada. As it turns out, students begin their study of English in Grade 7, not Grade One, as I wrongly thought. So any conversational English more complicated than “good morning” and “how are you?” was generally met with “wakarimasen!” (I don’t understand!). In addition, it turned out that I don’t have those four nice classes I thought I’d see for the term; I teach each and every English class in the school, which is fine, but it means that I only see each class maybe once a month. So what this all meant for me and my “Self Introduction” lesson was I’d have to first tone down the language a little. “The multicultural tapestry at the heart of my nation is as broad and diverse as our very climate and landscape,” became “Canada is very big.” Also, because I teach each and every class, I had to do my “Self Introduction” lesson over and over and over. Furthermore, when I finish my spiel and it is time for students to ask questions, I am invariably asked the same questions: “Do you like Japanese food?” “Do you have a girlfriend?” “Do you speak Japanese?” I felt like I was working at the Village again. There came a point when I half expected one of the students to stand and ask “do you really live here?” It never happened though. And every so often a student would ask a question that strayed from the norm. I think the most unusual question I got was “have you ever felt close to death?” Two things happened as a result of this question. The first was Curtis Drader got to be a minor celebrity as I told the class about our infamous canoe trip. The second was that one student had to be treated for a swelled head as I heaped praise on him for such a unique and creative question.

One month and approximately 60 “Self Introductions” later, I can honestly say it feels good to pack that lesson plan away. I think on the whole the lessons were successful. The students were generally quite interested in Canada and it brought me a touch of patriotic pride to hear the “ohhhhs” and “ahhhhs” as I showed them a picture of the northern lights or as one of their classmates got to wear a Team Canada hockey jersey. Subsequent to one of my “Self Introductions,” a colleague asked his class for their impression of my lesson. He relayed to me the students’ feedback. “Ken sensei has really big hair,” was a popular comment, as was “Ken sensei has cool neck ties.” One student though made the observation that “Ken sensei really loves his country.” That I do son, that I do.

Play a Song for Me

In mid-September, our school took a break from the rigors of study to put on the annual Sports Day Festival. On Saturday, September 18, parents and school board officials converged on the athletic field to watch as the students (and sometimes staff and foreigners) participated in an assortment of weird and wacky relay races. Now nothing in Japan can begin without some kind of official ceremony, and on the Wednesday prior to the festival, classes were cancelled for the sake of practicing the opening ceremony. As I didn’t have any specific role for the opening ceremony, I was assigned the difficult task of standing around and looking good. I preformed my task admirably throughout the morning. However, by the time the afternoon rolled around, I was getting kind of restless. Watching the students practicing for their Sports Day events all day inspired me to make a contribution of my own. Being weary from the heat and the generous meal we had at lunch, I sat down in the open chair beside the vice principle to watch the remainder of the activities. Without even speaking to each other, we agreed on our own entry into the Sports Festival. Yes, synchronized napping. I started by slowly lowering my head, closing my eyes and succumbing to a few moments rest. I suddenly woke up and looked over to see if the vice principle had noticed me sleeping, only to see that his head was slowing drooping and his eyes closing as he drifted off for a momentary slumber. I tried to resume watching the students’ practice, but again I was soon bobbing the head, closing the eyes and nodding off to sleep. Once again I woke up in time to see the vice principle go through the same motions. This whole process repeated itself for quite a while, though I could not say exactly how long. When it was over though, I felt confident that we had enough practice to début our new found talent during the Sports Day Festival.

As spectators and participants arrived on Saturday so too did the rain, leaving the festival in doubt; the festival was hanging by the edge of a knife, as it were. Discussions were held, and after some humming and hawing, it was decided that the festival would proceed. Around 10am, the rain let up and the opening ceremony began, much to the delight of the parents who had arrived at 7am to stake out good tarp space, I’m sure. What followed the opening ceremony was an impressive display of athleticism, sportsmanship and youthful exuberance. The main emphasis of Sports Day Festival seemed to be having fun. There were traditional run around the track and pass the baton events, but there were significantly more events that involved crawling under nets, walking across balance beams, lashing your leg to another person’s and running, jumping while wearing a potato sack and so forth and so on. It was kind of like watching a tamer version of Most Extreme Elimination Challenge (in fact, I’m starting to think the whole Sports Day Festival is just training for future MXC contestants. Once you master running across the balance beam, you graduate to Sinker and Floaters). And when I wasn’t answering questions as to whether we had anything like Sports Day Festival in Canada, I even got into the action. I never got to demonstrate synchronized napping, but I was part of a losing effort in the PTA versus staff tug-o-war, and I got to run in the staff versus Grade 9’s relay. (We let them win, honest. We didn’t want them to resent us for the rest of the school year. No really, it’s true. I swear. Ah come on, be nice).

Despite a few loses, the staff were in high spirits once the festival was over. After the tents were put away and the last parent and student had waved goodbye, it was decided that we must celebrate. And what better way to celebrate than an all-you-can-eat-and-all-you-can-drink enkai? (Japanese party with co-workers) We met at a restaurant which one of my colleagues described as “traditionally Japanese.” I wondered what “traditionally Japanese” meant. I was to find out. At the entrance of the restaurant I was made to remove my shoes and then find a place on the tatami floor in front of the table. Spread upon the table was an array of raw meats and vegetables. Assuming what was to be done next, I boldly grabbed a piece of raw octopus with my chopsticks and made for my mouth. Before I could complete the transfer of food to mouth, though, a colleague politely instructed me that I was to put the meat on the grill covering a small ceramic pot that sat in the middle of the table. The ceramic pot, as it turned out, was filled with coals. What fun! A Japanese Barbeque! All I needed was a kilo of bacon and cheddar smokies, a story of Gretchen and the Cornfield or two, and I’d be set. As it was, I made due with octopus, prawns, vegetables and answering yet more “Do you have (insert noun here) in Canada?” questions.

The merry-making went on for several hours before the restaurant staff decided our time was up and kindly asked us to get the hell out. Our eviction didn’t spell the end of our celebration, however, as it was agreed that we should seek out another great Japanese tradition: karaoke! I am the veteran of many a karaoke outing, both in Canada and in Japan, and in some circles, I am known as Karaoke Ken. The Shi JETers already met Karaoke Ken on a few occasions, but this particular evening would mark my first karaoke outing with a group of Japanese. In Japan, karaoke is done slightly differently than in North America. The basics are the same, but instead of getting up in front of the entire bar as you would at any karaoke bar around Edmonton, in Japan you are assigned a private room in which your only audience is your drunken friends. So there I was, crammed into a room much too small for the 2 dozen or so of the assembled teachers, anxiously awaiting my first “real” karaoke experience. As I was answering “yes” to the obligatory “do you have karaoke in Canada?” the lights dimmed, strains of music ushered forth from the speakers and the cheesy karaoke videos started. (Yes, they have cheesy karaoke videos in Japan too) The Music teachers regaled us first with their lucid voices. Then the Physical Education teachers entertained us with some fine songs. Beer appeared on the table, and it was appreciated by all. On the evening went, until microphone appeared in front of me. I took the microphone and looked around. Every pair of eyes in the room was on me. A silence had fallen over the crowd as they anticipated the sweet notes that would soon fall from my lips. I had been told by veteran JETers that the Japanese really appreciate it when Westerners sing karaoke, but I had to see it to believe it. Whether it was the fact that I took full advantage of the all-you-can-drink beer deal, the thrill of singing karaoke, the realization that my fifteen minutes of fame may have just arrived, or a combination of all three I cannot tell. All I know for sure is what I did next. I kicked off my sandals, stood on the vinyl upholstered bench, looked at my adoring fans and said, “Hiroshima, are you ready to rock?” *Applause* “Hiroshima, I said are you READY TO ROCK?” *Wild applause* “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!...'Say your prayers little one, don’t forget my son to include everyone…'” Five and a half minutes of appallingly sung Metallica later, I was the glowing recipient of polite, if not awkward, applause. I’m sure it was merely a coincidence, but I was offered a ride home soon afterward.

Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright


As I said, it’s been quite a month. Amidst the start of school and my “Self Introduction” lessons and the typhoons and wild nights of karaoke, I even had time to visit with your friend and mine, Jen Sargent. Jen left Edmonton last October and has been living in the city of Okayama for the past year. Okayama is near to Hiroshima, and toward the end of September, Jen paid me a visit. It was much too short a visit, but it was nice to see a good friend again. Unfortunately for me, Jen is at the tail end of her year in Japan, and will be back in Canada very soon. Seeing someone I knew from my Edmonton life caused me to think about how much I missed things back home. I didn’t get to see much of the World Cup of Hockey. I was fortunate, however, to see the final between Canada and Finland, thanks to a fellow Canadian hockey fan who recorded the game. Although the outcome was already known, it was great to spend an evening eating pizza, drinking beer and watching hockey. I’m missing hockey, but then, thanks to the work stoppage, all us hockey fans will be hard up this winter won’t we? You have to appreciate the irony though, that here in Hiroshima I’ll see just as much NHL hockey as all you folks back in Canada.

While a year without hockey will be tough for all of us, I don’t lament it as much as I do the missed opportunities to see all ya’all. Over the past month, I have really appreciated getting all the stories and updates about life back home. If I can’t be there in person, then at least I can be there in some sort of weird, creepy, voyeuristic, stalker-type-person way. If you find you have some time to send off a quick email about what’s going on in E-Town or elsewhere, (like Smokey Lake. Thanks Rivs and Pam) by all means please do so. For those of you who are already keeping me updated, thanks so much and keep it up. Thanks also to those of you who helped fill out my MSN contact list. I’ve been lucky enough to catch some of you online and I hope to catch some more of you in the future, even though time differences make it difficult.

Though I miss life in the Big E, I assure you I am still very much enjoying my life here in Japan. There is much to see and experience yet. The adventure is not over. October will likely mean more changes. I will start actual classes that don’t involve me talking about myself for fifty minutes. I will also experience my first Thanksgiving away from home. Additionally, October will be the three month anniversary of my arrival in Japan. Chad Goble, Dorothy’s son who is also in Japan, told me that the three month milestone is when culture shock really sets in. So far, culture shock hasn’t been an issue, but we’ll see how it goes after the three month hurdle. And as ever, I’ll keep you posted.

Until the next time…

Ken

PS - Sorry. These aren’t getting any shorter. But on a positive note, you'll be glad to know I spared you the more gruesome details of my aquarium visit

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