MooshiMooshi Part3

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MooshiMooshi from the classrooms of Japan!
I just finished my first week of teaching at a Japanese Junior Highschool. The week was spent presenting self-introductions to various classrooms of ridiculously cute 12 year olds. My job consisted of showing them photos of ‘American lifestyle’, playing word bingo and passing out stickers. But I only had to say hello in one of their directions to set them off in a wave of excitement. Apparently, I am the first blonde they've ever encountered. The girls come up to me in pairs trying to say hello, and then run off giggling. The boys keep asking me how old I am. The teachers are very kind. There are 500 students and 4 English teachers at the junior high. It is a new 3 story building with fresh wooden interior. The desks and chairs are wooden also, but more or less, it resembles your typical classrooms. Although they fly a Japan flag outside, there are no patriotic symbols in the classrooms, only children's artwork. There is no pledge of allegience in homeroom. However, a memory of military time does linger; at the beginning of each class, the teachers yell, "Attention, Bow." Students raise from their seats, stand straight, and bow low, while reciting one of the most often used Japanese phrases; Onegai shimasu, which in this case, means, "I will do my best".
On Monday, I had to give a speech in front of an all-school assembly. I was pretty nervous, but it went over well. I was thrown off by all the bowing and shoe etiquette. Remove shoes when entering the gym. Bow to the principal. Then bow to the students. Then the students bow to you. Then you approach the podium and bow to the flag behind it. Then you stand in front of the podium and bow to the students. Then they bow to you again. Then, you give your speech. Everything is preformed in reverse when you exit the podium.
In regards to shoes, I have to bring 3 pairs with me every day; my outside shoes, my inside shoes, and then my gym shoes. Baffling. I am suffering under my office wear, though. Despite the pictures we see in America of crazy Tokyo fashion, the rest of Japan is very conservative. I must wear a collared, long sleeve shirt and pants every day. The Japanese government has begun an initiative to cut down CO2 emissions and pollution. Called the "Cool Air Initiative", it is a law that all businesses and Gov. buildings can not turn on the air conditioning unless the temperature exceeds 30 Celsius. Likewise, in wintertime, they are not allowed to turn on the heat unless it is colder than 9 Celsius indoors. I have to hand it to Japan for making an effort in the right direction, but for a westerner used to wearing tank tops and shorts it is a bit of an adjustment. But I do have my Hello Kitty fan...
On Thursday, I bonded with the students as we worked outside a community project to clear weeds growing by the side of the roads. I think the kids were happy to see me work along side them, while all the other teachers drove around in a car surveying the work. I ride my bicycle the short 8km to school everyday, and this has earned me comradery with the students as well. I learned that the bicycles all the schoolchildren use are given to them for free from the government. There are no school buses in Japan, everyone is expected to ride to school. And like the uniforms, government issued shoes, etc. the bikes are a way to create uniformity among the children so there are no class distinctions visible. I have even heard that some schools make children with naturally light hair dye it black to fit in with the other students. I'm not sure if this is true, but from the back, all my students are indistinguishable. The uniformity and strong pressure can seem a bit stifling, but at the same time, it seems to bring the society closer together. Everyone feels equal, and no one is chastised for sticking out.
Although I have been met by some annoyances, I have discovered many charming things here. The taxi cab
drivers with their pristine white lace seat covers and white chaulffer gloves. The responsible, yet meticulous separation of garbage. The courteousness of people to wear face masks when they are ill so they don’t
spread germs. The patient pedestrians who will never cross the road unless the signal is green(sometimes you will see them standing there for several minutes on empty streets in the middle of the night, waiting...) This is a society that is concerned with the wellbeing of others. If the Japanese motto is "Better to ask than to go astray”, the American motto certainly is, “It’s not my problem”.
Everything is so fresh and new still, so the only problem I have been facing lately is aggravation over not being able to read anything. I have no idea what all the mail I keep getting says! I feel uneasy about tossing aside the notes that might read, "if you do not pay x-$ by tomorrow, we will shut off your water". But, they very well might just say, "Tomorrow, there is a sale on towels at Happy Mart". I don't know.
My other problem is that I keep dreaming in Japanese, which is getting confusing!
Yesturday, I went out to a lunch of soba noodles and tempura in a historical samauri residence-turned restaurant in Matsue. We sat on the floor and watched colorful koi swim in the pond outside.
It had been raining everyday last week (you can view my melancholy rain photos) and today was the first brilliantly sunny day since I’ve been in Izumo. I took advantage of it by planning a bike trip to a gorge and
waterfall area I had spotted on my map of Shimane prefecture. However, cycling in the countryside has again proven a slightly difficult task due to the signs only being in kanji and my map lacking anything but squiggly blue and red lines to distinguish road from river. I spent most of my energy getting lost. Getting lost is in itself an adventure, a chance to discover the unexpected, which is what happened today.
I can read some kanji and I know the symbols for things like river, mountain and temple, but somehow I miscalculated on my map and wound up going off my route and up the side of a mountain. I then saw the
symbol for a shrine, and knowing that I was supposed to pass a shrine on the way, kept heading up the 10%
grade slope. All of the sudden, an ancient stone gate presented itself before me, a sure marker of a shrine,
and I could see a path through the forest going up. The beckoning shade that lay beyond the gate contrasted in such an alluring way with the sheer brightness of my surroundings. The day was getting late and I wasn’t
sure if I was going to find this gorge, so I lay my bike down in the grass and entered the passageway. In a
matter of seconds, I realized I was entering upon territory that had laid dormant for a long time. Worn stone steps covered in leaves, clay and moss, rose before me, with nothing to my sides but a canopy of thick bamboo foliage. Insects I have yet to learn the names of crisscrossed my path and spiderwebs clung to my bare arms. As I ascended, the sound of cicadas increased proportionally to the receding sound of the roadway below. I felt like the little girl in Spirited Away, entering abandoned holy territory, wondering if the spirits are hiding in the trees, whispering. Up I go, up and up and up. When I stopped to catch my breath, the misquitos would bite, so I tried not to stop for more than a quick picture. The stairs became more undefined, sacrificed to the passage of time, and now I walk on nothing but brown leaves and slimy stone. There is still no light and I am
beginning to wonder when this will end. I thought about all of the superstitions surrounding shintoism, all of the kami gods with their knowing smiles and big bellies.
Finally, I saw the break of daylight several yards ahead. As my attention shifted, WHAM! I was slapped in
the arm! I let out a scream and ran all the way into the light. Either it was a bat or a slap from a Shinto spirit, but it made me feel that my presence there was not wanted. At my destination now, I wandered the grounds of a small, abandoned shrine. The wooden structure sat quietly as spiders went busily about their day catching dinner on the wooden columns. There were no wooden prayer cards or paper prayers tied to the trees, and I wondered why a shrine would be erected in such an area. I snapped few pictures, gave 2 claps to the gods, and decided it was time to make it back down to my bike. Down was actually harder than going up, as I had to watch my footing to keep from slipping. But I did make it down, and was relieved to see my bike lying in the grass beside the gate. I decided to take one more photo, but as I step forward with my camera, a thick snake, two feet long, grazed across my foot and slithered along the path!
Again, I screamed, and with shaky ankles and knees ran back through the gate.
I wonder: Did the forest chuckled behind me?
Well, that was my adventure for the day. I never made it to the gorge, and upon getting back to my
apartment, checked a different map and realized it was still an hours ride away from where I had been. But
now I can try to go there again, a little more prepared, ready to combat those artful Shinto gods.

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