Sunday, February 1, 2009
new pics
Hello friends. There are some pictures of winter clothes and other bits of my life here, on my flickr account.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Winter Fashion in Mihara
It's all the rage. If you have a cold, you wear a mask. Yet another example of people kindly thinking of others. And you don't look such a twat, because every third person is wearing one too. I even like this one a little - it's got some ninja styling don't you think?
Nemawashi
Ah Nemawashi! I felt like, after being here for six months I was finally making some real progress when Gunch and Watanabe explained it explicitly to me. Jane Goodall must have felt a bit like this when one of the chimps finally condescended to touch her or feed her or whatever it was. A breakthrough! I was privileged enough to learn it at the feet of not one but two 67 year olds. They told me everything. Nemawashi. I have sensed it and felt its influence. More disruptive has been the influence I have had on those around me because I don't know what it is.
Nemawashi! Let me explain...
The first part of the word Nemawashi (the Ne) is the kanji for root (like the roots of a tree). Gunch explained that when you plant (or dig up to replant) a tree you must work the soil carefully - loosening, digging, turning and patting - in an area wider than you think in order to ensure harmonious planting or upheaval. Nemawashi is groundwork and preparation. Its metaphorical meaning is a beeg part of Japan culture, Watanabe went on to explain (Watanabe, by the way, is the motorcycle chommie who now comes and hangs out at school quite regularly. I thought he was a Yamamoto. Apologies Watanabe!). You see, he began, The Japanese don't like conflict. They don't like to argue or debate. They don't like to antagonize or make anyone feel uncomfortable. Smooth social interaction is the most important thing! So? So before any delicate conversation that must be had - Nemawashi is performed. Days or weeks of gentle groundwork to ascertain every one's opinion and investment in a matter, the various whys and wherefores and then what the best possible outcome will be. With all this Nemawashi-ing, groundwork being so carefully laid, any meeting acting becomes simply symbolic because the decisions as it were have been arrived at weeks before - in a slow and private way.
And this is good thing to learn you may think, for the business world or when I have to say very big things to very important people. This will not be often though. So, a good thing to learn but not of day to day importance perhaps. Aha! Not so. Because, as the two men explained this stuff to me I began to think about something Yoko Jenkin told me before I even got here. What she told me seems to make so much more sense if I look at is through the idea of Nemawashi and the two ideas together promise to improve how I interpret everything and speak to everyone.
Yoko, my Japanese teacher in South Africa was the one who introduced me to the notion of subtlety in language and its paramount importance in Japan. She tried to explain to me the grammar rules for removing the subject form a sentence so 'I'm going to the shops' just becomes 'going to the shops' or even simply 'to the shops'. She said that saying absolutely everything in the sentence was mildly insulting as it insinuated that the listener could not work out these things for themselves. Some pretty subtle stuff. * These subtleties, which at the time just seemed to make Japanese conversation incredibly muddy and round-about, I now see are some of the elements of Nemawashi. That every word is groundwork. When Gunch and Watanabe said that Nemawashi is for saying difficult things, I think they mean, that is to say, Nemawashi is for everything! Because if you are constantly NOT saying something then the interpreter is constantly reading between the lines. It allows both speaker and interpreter never to have to go out on a limb and never face outright rejection of an idea or request. The subtlety gives speakers time to take stuff in and think about it and respond without offense. This might seem like quite a lot of work just to avoid words such as 'No' and for those of us who aren't hurt by 'No', perhaps it is a bit unnecessary. Here though 'No' is considered to be an aggressive word. A hurtful word. An enemy of the peace. For a culture that ascribes 'No' and its friends (the other negative words) such power, one can see why Nemawashi and talking around and around becomes a feasible way to communicate.
Sometimes I think of this mode as wonderful and artful. Its another example of how very deeply the respect and selflessness of Japan is entrenched. Other times I just find it irritating beyond words - generally when I come across new and unfamiliar Nemawashi tactics. Like 'Do you have a watch?' which doesn't mean, do you have a watch. It means 'What is the time?'. Hmmm... Or when I asked my supervisor 'Should I help you clean the classroom?' and he responded 'Maybe you don't have to' which it turns out, after months or guessing, means 'yes'. Ha! These situations are irritating.
Now I must counsel myself to be careful whilst learning Nemawashi and the Art Of Balanced Society Maintenance, not to consider it as better or worse than the way I am used to operating (A mistake I make often - thinking that I have been a total boob until now, and from now on, knowing this one new thing, I"ll be ace!). Nemawashi and the Art Of Balanced Society Maintenance is simply another mode, as different from what I am used to as the languages of English and Japanese themselves. Who knew how much difference and understanding was housed in the HOW? Hell!
*She also tried to make clear to me that present and future tense are in fact, the same tense - hence their conflation in Japanese (I still don't really understand this).
Nemawashi! Let me explain...
The first part of the word Nemawashi (the Ne) is the kanji for root (like the roots of a tree). Gunch explained that when you plant (or dig up to replant) a tree you must work the soil carefully - loosening, digging, turning and patting - in an area wider than you think in order to ensure harmonious planting or upheaval. Nemawashi is groundwork and preparation. Its metaphorical meaning is a beeg part of Japan culture, Watanabe went on to explain (Watanabe, by the way, is the motorcycle chommie who now comes and hangs out at school quite regularly. I thought he was a Yamamoto. Apologies Watanabe!). You see, he began, The Japanese don't like conflict. They don't like to argue or debate. They don't like to antagonize or make anyone feel uncomfortable. Smooth social interaction is the most important thing! So? So before any delicate conversation that must be had - Nemawashi is performed. Days or weeks of gentle groundwork to ascertain every one's opinion and investment in a matter, the various whys and wherefores and then what the best possible outcome will be. With all this Nemawashi-ing, groundwork being so carefully laid, any meeting acting becomes simply symbolic because the decisions as it were have been arrived at weeks before - in a slow and private way.
And this is good thing to learn you may think, for the business world or when I have to say very big things to very important people. This will not be often though. So, a good thing to learn but not of day to day importance perhaps. Aha! Not so. Because, as the two men explained this stuff to me I began to think about something Yoko Jenkin told me before I even got here. What she told me seems to make so much more sense if I look at is through the idea of Nemawashi and the two ideas together promise to improve how I interpret everything and speak to everyone.
Yoko, my Japanese teacher in South Africa was the one who introduced me to the notion of subtlety in language and its paramount importance in Japan. She tried to explain to me the grammar rules for removing the subject form a sentence so 'I'm going to the shops' just becomes 'going to the shops' or even simply 'to the shops'. She said that saying absolutely everything in the sentence was mildly insulting as it insinuated that the listener could not work out these things for themselves. Some pretty subtle stuff. * These subtleties, which at the time just seemed to make Japanese conversation incredibly muddy and round-about, I now see are some of the elements of Nemawashi. That every word is groundwork. When Gunch and Watanabe said that Nemawashi is for saying difficult things, I think they mean, that is to say, Nemawashi is for everything! Because if you are constantly NOT saying something then the interpreter is constantly reading between the lines. It allows both speaker and interpreter never to have to go out on a limb and never face outright rejection of an idea or request. The subtlety gives speakers time to take stuff in and think about it and respond without offense. This might seem like quite a lot of work just to avoid words such as 'No' and for those of us who aren't hurt by 'No', perhaps it is a bit unnecessary. Here though 'No' is considered to be an aggressive word. A hurtful word. An enemy of the peace. For a culture that ascribes 'No' and its friends (the other negative words) such power, one can see why Nemawashi and talking around and around becomes a feasible way to communicate.
Sometimes I think of this mode as wonderful and artful. Its another example of how very deeply the respect and selflessness of Japan is entrenched. Other times I just find it irritating beyond words - generally when I come across new and unfamiliar Nemawashi tactics. Like 'Do you have a watch?' which doesn't mean, do you have a watch. It means 'What is the time?'. Hmmm... Or when I asked my supervisor 'Should I help you clean the classroom?' and he responded 'Maybe you don't have to' which it turns out, after months or guessing, means 'yes'. Ha! These situations are irritating.
Now I must counsel myself to be careful whilst learning Nemawashi and the Art Of Balanced Society Maintenance, not to consider it as better or worse than the way I am used to operating (A mistake I make often - thinking that I have been a total boob until now, and from now on, knowing this one new thing, I"ll be ace!). Nemawashi and the Art Of Balanced Society Maintenance is simply another mode, as different from what I am used to as the languages of English and Japanese themselves. Who knew how much difference and understanding was housed in the HOW? Hell!
*She also tried to make clear to me that present and future tense are in fact, the same tense - hence their conflation in Japanese (I still don't really understand this).
Monday, January 26, 2009
Bullying
My friend works at a different high school in Mihara. I think I have mentioned before how rigorous the streaming is within my high school, well, the streaming happens school to school too with high, average or low academic academic schools. The kids write entrance exams to determine where they will go. If you go to a low or average academic high school your chances of going to university wane dramatically. Mine is a high academic school so kids are encouraged and motivated. By the sounds of it, at other schools, kids are just given up on, as this story will show. This might be why school kids are so stressed out. At every point in their academic career they are writing bloody entrance tests that, they are told, will change the course of their lives... and they actually do. Its hectic. My friend's school is low academic and the kids are more disobedient. By more disobedient I don't mean drugs and knives. But last week there was an incident that blew up into a full scale drama.
Teachers got wind of some bullying going on in the first year group, no one owned up so they decided to investigate. This involved cutting every period last Wednesday short by ten minutes so that at the end of the day there was a hour or so free. In this time, all the first year students were locked in their classrooms and called out one by one to be interviewed by a panel of senior teachers. When the interview was over they had to go home, missing whatever clubs or sports they had, so they wouldn't get to consort with any possible accomplices. My friend and her supervisor were discussing this bizarrely militant arrangement - her supervisor asking if this was how it was done in America. No, my friend said. In America you could see the bullies quite clearly: they were knifing people in the corridor. Oh, said her supervisor. Then my friend asked, tentatively, what would happen to the bullies when they were found. Would they, you know, get hit? Emotionally, yes, said her supervisor...how ominous.
I spoke with my friend again today and apparently seven boys have been apprehended. The charges were intimidation and stealing money from weedy kids. All seven said they had been receiving instructions from someone higher up (whether in the school or community it wasn't clear) and now the school is expelling them. Of course, stealing from and beating up little kids is not behaviour that should be encouraged. But expulsion? Really? They will have to go to night school now or find jobs, according to the supervisor. No second chances. When my friend asked if there was a school counselor and shouldn't they step in, she was told yes, there is counselor but their job is to protect the good students. So for seven 16 year old boys, that's it. Seems its all fun and games until someone, you know loses an eye or 1000 yen.
Teachers got wind of some bullying going on in the first year group, no one owned up so they decided to investigate. This involved cutting every period last Wednesday short by ten minutes so that at the end of the day there was a hour or so free. In this time, all the first year students were locked in their classrooms and called out one by one to be interviewed by a panel of senior teachers. When the interview was over they had to go home, missing whatever clubs or sports they had, so they wouldn't get to consort with any possible accomplices. My friend and her supervisor were discussing this bizarrely militant arrangement - her supervisor asking if this was how it was done in America. No, my friend said. In America you could see the bullies quite clearly: they were knifing people in the corridor. Oh, said her supervisor. Then my friend asked, tentatively, what would happen to the bullies when they were found. Would they, you know, get hit? Emotionally, yes, said her supervisor...how ominous.
I spoke with my friend again today and apparently seven boys have been apprehended. The charges were intimidation and stealing money from weedy kids. All seven said they had been receiving instructions from someone higher up (whether in the school or community it wasn't clear) and now the school is expelling them. Of course, stealing from and beating up little kids is not behaviour that should be encouraged. But expulsion? Really? They will have to go to night school now or find jobs, according to the supervisor. No second chances. When my friend asked if there was a school counselor and shouldn't they step in, she was told yes, there is counselor but their job is to protect the good students. So for seven 16 year old boys, that's it. Seems its all fun and games until someone, you know loses an eye or 1000 yen.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Playing Hookie
Today I bunked the two periods after lunch with Gunch and his motorcycle chommie. We went to a swanky Italian resturaunt on the other side of town and ate at a leisurely pace, they drank wine. I wanted to but thought it would be pushing my luck to arrive back to school late and drunk. The meal was delicious – a small salad followed by a small helping of pasta with fresh mushrooms and parma ham. The main course was a little helping of osso bucco, a tiny medallion of steak, a square of silvery fish baked with carrots and tomatoes and an espresso cup of hot leek soup. Dessert was one strawberry, cream, almond icecream and a sliver of apple tart.
The men spoke about their respective work. Gunch mourned for the days when teachers were broad-minded people (the seventies apparently) and Mr Motorcross (Mr Yamamoto…I think!) told me that he likes his job because when he discusses it with his wife she doesn’t understand what he is talking about. Mr Yamamoto is a Christian (Shinto father, Christian mother) and is currently very interested in Jews – how they are different form Christians and what our ‘big book’ is called. I felt like such a sneak sponging such a fabulous lunch and being mostly unable to answer his questions in return.
The men spoke about their respective work. Gunch mourned for the days when teachers were broad-minded people (the seventies apparently) and Mr Motorcross (Mr Yamamoto…I think!) told me that he likes his job because when he discusses it with his wife she doesn’t understand what he is talking about. Mr Yamamoto is a Christian (Shinto father, Christian mother) and is currently very interested in Jews – how they are different form Christians and what our ‘big book’ is called. I felt like such a sneak sponging such a fabulous lunch and being mostly unable to answer his questions in return.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
my favourite class
I have just finished teaching my favourite class. They are second year students and I normally only teach first year students. I have only taught them once before, just after I arrived; I remember it was stiflingly hot. What makes them my favourites is hard to categorize but the feeling was instantaneous when I first taught them. Their focus is absolute but more than that, I can feel that they are with me, not against me (anyone who has faced a pride of teenagers will know the visceral distinction). They are a smart class but not too smart – the really smart ones have been bogged down by their book knowledge whereas my favourites are still agile of mind, making them more dynamic than the really smart ones. Smarter than the smart ones. I can play with them. They are a joy.
So I was walking around my favourite classroom (because it houses my favourite class) and all of a sudden a sadness began to seep in like the leak at the bottom of a boat. I felt a slight sogginess initially through my socks but the sadness’ progress was steady and by the end of the lesson I was sloshing around, knee deep in it. Let me say here that it is not entirely unusual to have bizarrely intense feelings come over me here in Nippon. It happens on my bike or mid conversation or at home or whenever – one minute I am feeling thusly and the next minute – the converse of thusly. Its alright, proof of sanity rather than madness I think. As an extremely irritating hippie once advised me, I usually just ride the wave, babes. Today however it irked me and I wanted to know why I suddenly felt so sad. Here are my thoughts.
The sadness was about Hiroshima and the bomb. This in and of itself is not so strange, because it is a desperately sad thing. It is strange however that it happened in class and not say, last weekend when I was in Hiroshima city for a conference. I know that when I say the Hiroshima to people outside of Japan it must still carry the taste of the bomb and the tragedy but to me the name only signifies the place. Hiroshima is just a city now – no connotation, it is where I can go for better bars and shopping and conferences. This time round I even arranged to meet with someone at the A-bomb memorial because it is central and convenient. When I went there I barely looked at it, its significance did not even register.
Maybe the fact that it didn’t register must have registered because sadness seeds were surely sown. It was not coincidence either that the sadness happened when I was with my favourite class. In fact I'm certain that they triggered it. They trigger it partly, I think, because the last time I taught them in sticky July and August, the significance of where I was and what happened here in August 1945 was very present, exacerbated by my reading every bit of info about the bombing I could get my hands on. It was then that I began reading the series Barefoot Gen – a manga about the bombing and its aftermath. I’m still reading it now but I am wary of it. The simple, cartoony pictures have a way of getting under my skin, it’s very disturbing. I made the mistakes, at first, of reading it while eating, while sick and with company. Now I only read it when I am feeling in top physical and mental condition, away from any food or people. Yes, so in part I associate that class with that time and therefore with the book. But deeper than that, the feeling of joy they give me feels inextricably linked to the horror I feel about the bombing. Like they are a memorial - is that morbid? That they are there and happy and smart and that they are people - diverse, interesting people as much as anyone anywhere makes me think about the bomb. People who drop bombs cannot think of their targets with the affection I feel for my favourite class. If they did, they wouldn't drop bombs.
But of course you don't hint that any of this is going on. You just wander around and teach as per normal while all these wild feelings bump and squeeze inside.
So I was walking around my favourite classroom (because it houses my favourite class) and all of a sudden a sadness began to seep in like the leak at the bottom of a boat. I felt a slight sogginess initially through my socks but the sadness’ progress was steady and by the end of the lesson I was sloshing around, knee deep in it. Let me say here that it is not entirely unusual to have bizarrely intense feelings come over me here in Nippon. It happens on my bike or mid conversation or at home or whenever – one minute I am feeling thusly and the next minute – the converse of thusly. Its alright, proof of sanity rather than madness I think. As an extremely irritating hippie once advised me, I usually just ride the wave, babes. Today however it irked me and I wanted to know why I suddenly felt so sad. Here are my thoughts.
The sadness was about Hiroshima and the bomb. This in and of itself is not so strange, because it is a desperately sad thing. It is strange however that it happened in class and not say, last weekend when I was in Hiroshima city for a conference. I know that when I say the Hiroshima to people outside of Japan it must still carry the taste of the bomb and the tragedy but to me the name only signifies the place. Hiroshima is just a city now – no connotation, it is where I can go for better bars and shopping and conferences. This time round I even arranged to meet with someone at the A-bomb memorial because it is central and convenient. When I went there I barely looked at it, its significance did not even register.
Maybe the fact that it didn’t register must have registered because sadness seeds were surely sown. It was not coincidence either that the sadness happened when I was with my favourite class. In fact I'm certain that they triggered it. They trigger it partly, I think, because the last time I taught them in sticky July and August, the significance of where I was and what happened here in August 1945 was very present, exacerbated by my reading every bit of info about the bombing I could get my hands on. It was then that I began reading the series Barefoot Gen – a manga about the bombing and its aftermath. I’m still reading it now but I am wary of it. The simple, cartoony pictures have a way of getting under my skin, it’s very disturbing. I made the mistakes, at first, of reading it while eating, while sick and with company. Now I only read it when I am feeling in top physical and mental condition, away from any food or people. Yes, so in part I associate that class with that time and therefore with the book. But deeper than that, the feeling of joy they give me feels inextricably linked to the horror I feel about the bombing. Like they are a memorial - is that morbid? That they are there and happy and smart and that they are people - diverse, interesting people as much as anyone anywhere makes me think about the bomb. People who drop bombs cannot think of their targets with the affection I feel for my favourite class. If they did, they wouldn't drop bombs.
But of course you don't hint that any of this is going on. You just wander around and teach as per normal while all these wild feelings bump and squeeze inside.
Monday, January 5, 2009
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