Communication Breakdown

It's Thursday, November 7th, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

It's friggin' cold outside.

It's my last day at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) where I team-teach English hired through the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. It's also my last day as a 26-year-old.

Mrs. Bannai (Bannai-sensei) an English teacher at this school - and one of the cutest chicks I have ever seen - seriously... she must have been the mold for ever single female cutey-pie Japanese manga/anime (comic book/cartoon) character out there - anyhow... she's quite concerned about my eyesight and the fact I am constantly rubbing my eyes.

She and the school nurse think I should go to an eye doctor and get my eyes checked... but I tell them I am afraid to do so because of the language barrier. I would really like someone to go with me.

Maybe I just don't understand how things really are in Japan, but when I says something like this to any MAN here, they usually drop whatever they are doing and drive me someplace to resolve my problem/concern or issue.

This does not happen here. Of course, this is the first time I have ever confided to a woman here about any physical problem... so I don't really have a large sample base to work with regarding stereotypes.

But, no one offers to take me to an eye doctor, no matter how much I hint. And I'm quite good at doing that. No one blinks - except in that cute female Japanese way. Oh well.

During my school lunch with the kids, the boys talk pure sex with me. A lot of sex. In broken English and broken Japanese... At least it's in English mostly, so I do my best to provide them with answers about naughty English words and answer as much as I can about my own conquests, or recent lack thereof.

It is scary when you consider that these are 13-year-old boys, and I am twice their age (for now).

I go home... go out and rent a couple more movies, watch and relax and then go to bed at 12:30AM.

I have not plugged the phone back in for a few days now.

Somewhere my eyes hurt,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by Led Zepellin. Yeah, I've used the title before... but it's Led Zep, man!

You Really Got Me

It's Tuesday, November 5, 1991.

It's the first working day for me since my emotional meltdown this past weekend... since I made an impassioned speech at the Ohtawara Cultural Festival here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan, that I wished people would just forget about where people are from and would just be friends.

Who knew that a very emotional speech that garnered me a standing ovation would play a large part in my life... actually, at this point in time, I have no idea if it will.

I hope so.

Today, I am at the largest of Ohtawara's seven junior high schools—I teach at all as an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme—Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara junior High School).

It's about a 10-minute bicycle ride from my large apartment building. I genuinely like the students and teachers at this school. Not every kid is golden, but even when one gets lippy, the class leaders put that kid back into step and apologize to the teacher for  his behavior. I've not had any poor behavior directed at me here - and let's keep it that way.

It's freezing cold outside! There's no heating system in the classrooms. Zip. No insulation either. According to last year, there should be a potbelly stove placed into each room to warm the class. Trust me... with the stove at the front of the class... you do not want to be the cool, freezing kid in the far rear corner. Unfortunately... there is no stove in place at this time. Apparently, it's not cold enough yet. Could have fooled my shrunken testicles.

Instead... because there's a howling wind a blowing outside... in each of my three classes the windows are wide open. I'm freezing. The students are freezing. And, yet the teachers leave the window open... I think it's to prove a point. I have no idea what it is, but asking Shibata-sensei (Mr. Shibata - a teacher), one of the English teachers at this school... he simply says... "Perhaps the students like it."

He then smiled, shook his head and said he has "no idea why, but the orders come from the Principal."

Fair enough.   

You would think that the arctic wind blowing directly onto the crotch of my pants would help my emotional state of mind... but I am still in a daze.

The kids are all great, however - all first-tears (grade 7s - 12-year-olds).

But, while walking from one class to another, some cutie-pie third-year girls come running up to me with books clutched to their chest and ask me if I would please come to the school's cultural festival on Sunday.

Hmm. It's the same day as I was asked to go to the Oyama Kyudo (Oyama Japanese archery) festival. But... I think I need to go and hang with the kids. I was also asked to go to the Wakausa Chu Gakko (Wakakusa Junior High school) cultural festival on Saturday.

After school, I head home, rent some videos and then go off to teach my adult nigh school course I do on the side. Mr. Suzuki is writing 'Happy Birthday' on the greenboard. Coo. It's my 27th birthday on the 8th, and I won't see these folks again for another week.

My students all come up to me the moment they see me enter the room. It's heartwarming. They were all very worried about me after my speech yesterday - that I seemed unhappy and lonely.

Mrs. Ohno - dear, dear woman - she has written out with the aid of a Japanese-English dictionary some questions - all multiple choice.

It must have taken her a helluva long time to look up the words and to write it out - providing multiple choices to make my giving her a proper answer easier for me.

Well... it's like I suspected... make an ass of yourself and suddenly everyone is concerned.  Truthfully, I did not make an ass of myself, but I did make an emotional plea for help, without actually verbalizing it. Smart people here in Ohtawara... or empathetic. Whatever. They know I'm down. 

I give her my answers, she seems satisfied I'm not going to kill myself or others, and realizes I'm just going through a rough patch.

Funny... after 15 months... and seeing some of these people for three hours a night once per week ... they already know when I'm not right emotionally. Maybe it's because I'm usually so up. Pity I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Or it's a good thing. At least I don't hide how I feel like most people. I don't want to wallow in self-pity or confusion. By opening myself up like this, by the actions and inactions of people, you see who really cares.

After class,I go home and watch TV before having to call it an early night. My damn eyes are really bothering me, as my left contact lens keeps on moving about the eye. Rub-rub-rub.

Oh... and today I mailed off the November issue of the Tochigi-ken newsletter the Tatami Times and wrote out my official resignation letter as its editor.

I still haven't plugged my phone back into the wall.

Somewhere someone gets me,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Kinks:

 And here's a great cover by Van Halen - because I love this song: