gojira is hungry

On my first day of teaching, I played a game with some of my classes that is called "Wolf," but I renamed it "Gojira" (Godzilla) to make it a bit more culturally accessible. The game has Gojira (me) "sleeping," while the students call out a question, such as "What's your name?". If I give the key answer ("My name is Gojira!" and not, say, "My name is Pikachu."), I pretend to chase a few lucky students back to their seats. If I catch them, I get a point. If I don't catch them, the students (as a group) get a point.

I'm explaining this to you so you understand who "Gojira" is in the context of this update. Gojira is me. And every day, after chasing around kids, Gojira is very hungry.

I have two burners in my little "kitchen" area, plus a sink, some shelves, and a cabinet the size of a shoebox. This is my space. Still, it's infinitely more cooking room and appliances than I had in Taiwan. I knew I missed cooking in Taiwan; I missed the independence of making my own meals, the control cooking gives me over what, exactly, goes into each dish.

What I didn't realize was how much I actually enjoy cooking. I didn't realize it was something I would look forward to at the end of the day. It should be a chore; a bother; an impediment that comes between me and food. It isn't, though. It's fun. I keep my meals pretty simple, so they don't take too long and they aren't complicated to make, but still, I'm surprised at how the magic of food-making makes me so happy.

At first, I tried to make meals that seemed Japanese. It was hard to think of recipes, though. Then I realized I had everything I was used to at the grocery store: meat, veggies, fruit, spices, bread, rice, noodles... with a few slight differences, such as the abundance of tofu and daikon radishes (which are as enormous in person as they appear on anime!). Rice, also, comes in medium-to-enormous bags, some of which probably weigh as much as I do. Finally, the baking section is considerably more limited than an American one, although that likely owes to the fact that Japanese homes don't usually have room for an oven.

Despite these differences, though, the fundamentals are the same. Raw foods are available for purchase, and can then be taken home and cooked however the buyer pleases. I know how to cook. I know how to boil vegetables and saute meat. I know how to simmer sauces and slow-cook stovetop rice. I know how to chop onions, mince garlic, carve up chicken, dice peppers. I've got tons of kitchen know-how that hasn't changed just because my space is smaller and the foods available are a bit different.

When I stopped trying to make Japanese foods and started making Western foods with the available ingredients, cooking got easy. I found the stewed tomatoes by accident, and I still don't know if what I've been buying is ground pork or ground beef (I think it's pork, though, based on my dictionary). That doesn't change the fact that I can make pasta and tomato meat sauce in my sleep. The more I cook here, the more I realize that my brain doesn't have to think about the mechanics. I may be ponderously studying Japanese, but I am fluent in Making Food.

So now that I'm not worried about making perfect Japanese dishes anymore, just cooking something tasty and edible, making dinner has become a lot more fun. I've made tomato sauce three times now, but I'm branching into an adventure I call 101 Ways to Make Rice Interesting, and Japan seems pretty good at that. There are a ton of rice mixes full of spices and herbs that you can add to your regular rice to make it exciting. I've already made tomato rice and herb rice. I'm planning on mixing rice with some of the spice mix, plus beans and lightly cooked diced peppers for a bit of a veggie-and-protein kick.

Planning this kind of thing is fun. I never thought it would be. I never thought I'd start a routine of putting on some music and just making dinner, whatever I feel like that night. I try to plan meals a bit and buy ingredients for them, but with a grocery store literally five minutes from my house, I don't worry about running out of food, so I don't plan too far in the future. I'm still working out what my "staple" foods are, although bread and milk are definitely two things I can't live without. I'm about halfway through my 2kg bag of rice I bought in my first week here. I'll probably buy more when it's used up.

I really like cooking. I like how it's like a dance, and everything has to be timed correctly so nothing gets burned or undercooked. I like the rhythm of chopping vegetables, and seeing how thinly I can slice garlic and onions. I like the slide of a knife through a chicken breast, and carving out the perfect pieces to fry. I like orchestrating a perfectly balanced meal, and then placing it on a plate and savoring that moment of, "Behold what I have made." And then, after all that, I get to eat what I made.

When I'm cooking, I'm in my own little world. It's methodical, purposeful, and calming. It's whatever I decide it should be, whether that's creative or easy and simple.

Cooking is definitely one of my favorite parts of my life in Japan. I'm so glad I have a place to cook!

Itadakimasu!

the boring things (that make me happy)

My day was super normal today. I went to work, I taught four classes in a row, ate lunch with the kids, walked around with them outside at recess, taught another class, spent my last period in the teacher's room planning stuff, and had a meeting with the 5th and 6th grade head teachers about next week's lessons before I went home. When I got home, I checked Facebook, downloaded the new podcast episode of Welcome to Night Vale, and listened to the episode while taking a walk/jog around the neighborhood. Upon arriving back at my place, I rented the movie Catching Fire off iTunes, and watched it while I cooked dinner. Now, I'm going to write this blog post, finish writing an article for Anime Secrets, and then probably go to bed (because I'm super-tired.)

This was a really average day, in the grand scheme of things. It's the kind of day everyone has, where they go to work, come home tired, and go about their daily chores and self-maintenance (such as feeding themselves and looking after their health). I'm still two days away from the weekend.

And yet, I don't feel at all like my day was taken from me by the things I had to do. I felt like my day was good.

Granted, the day was exhausting. I am looking forward to sleep in ways I can't describe. But I got myself out of bed and to work on time today, despite being zombie-ish first thing in the morning. I got through my first class, which was a bit awkward since I'm still learning what's expected of me, but all my other classes for the day went fine--even great. At least one teacher (that I remember, my days are blurring together) told me she thought my class was wonderful.

Then, after I made it through my initial class marathon, I ate lunch with the students, and went outside to see them at recess. Recess at this school (Sano) takes place in a giant dust bowl: an enormous expanse of open, packed dirt that's ringed by some fencing, occasional greenery, and a variety of playground structures like swings and monkey bars. Most of the kids, as far as I could see, spent their free time running around as madly and aimlessly as possible. A lot of them ran up to me and yelled "Hello!" in various pitches before dashing off again.

Two kids stuck around long enough for us to invent a game: Keep Walking! It involves one person telling the others to Keep Walking, Stop, or Turn. After about five minutes, the boy student took over (in English), telling me and the other student to walk, stop, or turn. It was all the "playing" I could do in business clothes and kitten-heeled shoes. I have sneakers, but those are my "indoor" shoes now, so I can't wear them outside. I need to buy "indoor" shoes so my running sneakers can go back to being "outdoor" shoes. (Although I may not wear them to school, because then the kids will think I can run around with them.)

After recess, I had one more class, and then about fifty minutes of silence in the teacher's room, which I tried to use to do lesson planning but couldn't. This is because the English lesson books are half in Japanese, and without online company resources to tell you what you're supposed to do... you don't know what you're supposed to do. Fortunately, the 5th and 6th grade head teachers held a brief meeting with me after school, and they basically gave me my lesson plans for next week.

After my two days at Sano, I'm starting to feel like I can actually do this job. The difficult part will be keeping up the momentum; I've set a precedent for being "fun" and "exciting." But unlike my previous job, I'm not expected to cram every last morsel of English education down these kids' throats. I also only have 45 minutes in which to do the lesson, so I'm not scrambling to kill time and stay interesting when my students (who are children) have mentally checked out.

Tomorrow is my first day at my third and final school, Koya. I'll see how it goes, but it shouldn't be horrible. Also, I've only got four classes each day as opposed to Sano's five, so it'll be a bit less long of a day than the two in the middle. This is actually a good schedule; short Monday, busy Tuesday and Wednesday, and then less-busy Thursday and Friday. I'll use Monday to wake up for the week, Tuesday/Wednesday to build momentum, and Thursday/Friday to slide into the weekend without feeling like I'm scrambling toward the finishline.

Having actually been okay these last few days has made me tentatively hopeful about my coming year in Japan. Today was a good day, and it's been a good week so far. I've enjoyed coming home and winding down by cooking--I actually look forward to that part of the day. It's relaxing.

Japan's a good place to enjoy what's around us everyday. When I went on my walk this afternoon, I stopped often to just look at the hundreds (and I do mean hundreds) of flowers blooming all over the neighborhood in people's gardens. There are blankets of white and pink flowers falling over stone walls, towering green bushes stuck full of round pink, white, and red blooms. There are multi-colored tulips everywhere. Wildflowers are making a go of it in fields. The cherry blossoms have mostly blown away, but Japan's only just begun gearing up for a colorful spring and summer. Then, when the sun begins to go down, it throws streaks of yellow and red light over the swooping Japanese roofs and through the strings of electrical wires criss-crossing overhead. There's an instant contrast between the stark simplicity of the roads, homes, and fields and the vibrant, natural color around them.

Japan does an incredible job of making a boring, everyday environment meaningful, and thereby beautiful. At work, we drink loose-leaf green tea--and it's self-serve. My co-workers store their cups in a cupbard full of fancy teaware that's used to treat visitors. Every day, after lunch and before recess, the kids grab washrags, dustbins and brooms and clean the school. Even the simple ritual of removing one's outdoor shoes in preparation of entering a school or home shows respect, and makes the school itself feel more important to you.

I think this is the part of Japan, or my idea of it, that I've always felt I would connect with--the sometimes over-the-top time and care taken to show respect for the seemingly trivial and minute aspects of our lives. Japan's a little ritual and conformity-crazy, I'll admit. (Next week my kids are going to learn to introduce themselves in English by making and exchanging meishi, or business cards; a very Japanese thing to do, and it has more to do with teaching the kids how to be Japanese than how to speak English.) But there are qualities here that can definitely be learned from, and it's the unique opportunity of a born-and-raised Westerner to learn about and incorporate these qualities without losing the independent sense of self. Moreover, as a foreigner here, I'll never be expected to fully integrate, anyway. I'll have the opportunity to learn without the added social pressure of complete conformity.

What I'm saying is, not only is Japan not too bad of a place, but I'm also enjoying living here. I like the lack of craziness. It's a bit trying on weekends, but during the workweek it's nice to come home, make dinner, and chill out before falling asleep. It's a bit nice to have to find things to do with my time, to invest myself in hobbies and make my day meaningful in little ways since I can't just go out and find something to easily distract me. I miss Taipei's exuberance, the evident vitality that came from being a metropolis. But with me in my late twenties, nearing my thirties, working a full-time job and intending to set down some roots here, Japan is suiting me quite well.

getting lost

The key to getting lost while driving in a foreign country where you can't read the signs (if there are signs) is to not panic.

The second key is to have a map with you. But not panicking is important.

I've gotten "lost" twice already. One time I was driving the wrong way down road 38, although I didn't know it. I stopped at a Shell station and the attendant pointed at places on my map and then out into the dark distance until I understood what she was saying. I appreciated that lady a lot because she didn't get frustrated by my obvious lack of Japanese, she just kept re-explaining in simpler terms until I got it.

The second time I got lost was today, when I doubted myself and didn't take a turn that it turned out I should have. When I realized that nothing was looking familiar, I sighed, found a parking lot to turn into, and re-traced my steps until I figured out where I probably was. I found a Lawson convenience store and a 7-Eleven marked on my map, and knew that if I kept driving and saw them, it'd be confirmation I was going in the right direction. I got back on the road, saw the stores, and from there quickly returned to an area I knew. I also learned a new way home, though this one isn't as direct as my other way.

In both cases, it was dark, I couldn't read or see any of the street signs (again, if there were any) and in a matter of minutes I found myself speeding down a street where nothing looked familiar. In both cases, I stopped driving before I got too far away from anything I knew, and used my map to get back on track.

I thought I would need a GPS to get around Hitachinaka, but it's turning out that I don't, at least not so far. My map, although completely in Japanese, is helping me get un-confused as well as helping me confirm when I am going in the right direction.

I'm glad I'll have it with me when I go to Mitanada tomorrow for my first day of work. I've already been to the school once, but it'll help to have backup in case I need it.

Going to bed soon; it's an early and exciting day for me tomorrow!

schools

No pictures of the schools yet; I didn't want to be that creepy gaijin taking pics of kids' schools from her car window.

However, last Tuesday I did manage to Google, locate on a paper map, and then drive to all three of my school locations. The first two (Sano and Kouya) are close to me, while Mitanda is a good twenty minutes away. Fortunately, my schedule for most of the year is Mitanda on Monday, Sano on Tues/Wed, and Kouya on Thurs/Fri.

On Thursday I was picked up at my house by another helpful Japanese Interac employee (IC, which I think stands for Interac Contact), who drove me to Sano, then Kouya school. In both of these schools, we were greeted and ushered into a meeting room off to the side of the teachers' work room. I met with the principal or vice-principal of these schools, as well as the teacher who would be my in-school contact for lessons and instructions. Together we discussed school lunch fees, what to wear at school, what would be expected of me, and other important things (such as how I needed to bring my own cup and "hashi," or chopsticks to school for lunch!). It was very quick for both, since both schools were still in the middle of their school day when the IC and  I visited. I didn't see any other foreign teachers at either Sano or Kouya, so I think I may be the only gaijin at the school.

On Friday, a different IC picked me up and we drove to Mitanda. The atmosphere there was different. It could have been any number of reasons: the school day was over, so they had more time, or that Mitanda is a smaller school, so the teachers are more tightly-knit. Whatever the reason, after the customary meeting with the school principal over cups of coffee, I was invited into the actual teachers' room, shown my desk, and introduced to everyone. I kept smiling and bowing and saying "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!" back to anyone who said it to me.

All the teachers were brought into the room (there weren't meany couldn't have been more than ten or twelve), and I was asked to make an introduction speech. Fortunately, I'd prepared one on Wednesday night in case it was needed. I had to read it off my notebook, but they applauded, so hopefully I did well. I really want to learn more Japanese now because not only will it make living here easier, but these people seem friendly and fun, and they're going to be my co-workers, and I'd really like to cultivate a relationship with them beyond a wave and a smile because we've nothing else we can say to each other.

At Mitanda, also, I was able to meet the 6th and 5th grade homeroom teachers, which was great, because those are the two grades I'll be teaching at Mitanda for at least the next month. I really love Mitanda school. They've tried to get to know me, and help me. They even provided me with a printed copy of the curriculum, my schedule for the next few months, and information about the songs on the CD that goes with the schoolbooks I have. (Which I was thankful for, since I do not have the CD.)

I'm nervous as hell. Not speaking any real conversational Japanese means it's harder for me to ask my employers and co-workers what they expect from me, how to do things right, what advice they have. I need to practice Japanese phrases that I can use to tell them I'm open to helpful criticism, that I'd love their input on anything and I'm eager to do my best and I don't want them to worry about telling me how they prefer things to be done. I'm joining a community, after all, and even though being foreign sort of restricts me from ever truly being a full member of it, I'm going to be part of the school machine and I want to be a hard-working little cog. :)

Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm going to hole up in the nearest Starbucks I know of and plan my lessons for the first week. I need to make sure I understand how all the timesheet paperwork is supposed to be done. ('Cause without that I may not get paid!)

Thankfully, the Starbucks internet here is a million times better than the internet at the Starbucks in Ohio (sorry, Google Wifi, but it's true). Also, a friend sold me her old tablet, so I finally have something to load books onto and acquire additional apps for studying (and deciphering) Japanese. I've scheduled all my time tomorrow for getting my bearings and making sure I'm ready for not just Monday, but Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, as well.

I'm glad Mitanda is the first school I'll visit, since my schedule is the least busy there and I have the most information about what I'm supposed to do. The best defense against nervousness and a bad first day is being over-prepared and organized!

A green-tea latte won't hurt, either.

As my Japanese co-workers have been saying to me all week, がんばって!

the day has come

Tomorrow I'll be visiting two of the schools I'll be teaching in. On Friday, I'll be visiting the third school. Although I don't have to bring anything, I won't be teaching, and I'm not expected to speak fluent Japanese to anybody, I'm nervous as all hell.

I'm nervous about it because I get nervous about every new job I haven't started yet. I hate the adjustment period of a new job. I dislike the mental acrobatics of remembering how things are done, I dislike the worry that I'll forget something important and mess up. I really don't ever mess up, but still, I just dislike the whole period of getting into the swing of things in general. Basically, starting a new job is like being the replacement cog in a machine where others depend on you to do your job right, although you only have a framework idea of what that job is going to entail. The specifics are going to be thrown at you when you get in the door.

Being professional isn't rocket science, and now that I've taught for a year I'm comfortable being the trained monkey in front of kids. So that's not scary.

I think what makes me most nervous is that tomorrow and Friday are when I'll find out what the rest of my year is going to be like. I don't yet know what I'll be expected to teach (as in specific lessons), what my co-workers will be like, what kinds of kids I'll have. At this point I don't even know how I'll feel about the school lunches, even though I have an idea of what'll be in them. (Fortunately I can bring my own lunch if I want, as long as it's home-cooked and deemed "healthy" by Japanese people.)

I'd just like to know, already. I'll be less stressed once I know.

suburbs

I figured out what's been driving me nuts, and it's that there's not much close-by that I can go do.

In Taipei, there was something to do everywhere. Literally around the corner from my apartment were clothes shops, tea stands, a mall, a movie theater, a gym, and two bus stops. I couldn't run out of places to go in Taipei if I tried. Plus, everything was in very easy (and cheap) reach.

Here, in the suburbs, it's not like that. I have to drive places, and Lord knows I'm not a fan of driving. Plus, I don't have a GPS, so if I get lost... I'm lost. So I'm not doing much exploring. I can't tell which places are closed and which are open, or what kinds of businesses they are, or what their hours of operation are because it's often in Japanese. In Taipei there were hundreds of coffee and tea shops nearby for me to just go to, places I could sit down, log into the wifi, order a cheap and yummy drink, and sit around writing or web-surfing for just hours. Here, I've yet to find one coffee shop that fits any of those requirements. At least in Columbus I knew my way around enough to find the nearest Starbucks.

It's gotten me a bit down. I didn't realize how much I enjoyed the constant stimulation of the city until I was mobile and had to really seek out any kind of entertainment.

Advantages that Hitachinaka has: my apartment is bigger, and cleaner. I'm not being woken up at odd mornings because someone, somewhere nearby, is doing loud construction that vibrates my head. Also, I'm not being suffocated in heat and humidity every time I step outside my door. I do like many things about Hitachinaka, and the suburbs in general, over the big city--any big city.

But the drawbacks I'm growing annoyed by now are those of living in a residential area. Moreover, a residential area I'm hesitant to explore because if I get lost, I'm in a car with no GPS and no definite way to get back home. I desperately miss the accessibility of Taipei, and the mobility I had via the bus and MRT systems. I miss being able to go places without having to think about how to get there, at least beyond "Take the 235 bus to Fu Da MRT Station and go from there."

I'm in Japan. I'm living the dream. I'm happy. But I need to get my hands on a GPS soon and figure out where things are here before I've spent all of spring indoors, marathoning Game of Thrones and Project Runway.

sakura matsuri

Sakura means cherry blossom, and matsuri means festival. This means the cherry blossom festival in Hitachi has been aptly named. Myself and the people from my Mito Branch training group joined forces to eat food, take pictures, and have fun at the Hitachi Sakura Matsuri.

The trains are still a thing that I'm trying to figure out. They're not as English-translated as the MRTs in Taipei were, nor do they come as often. There are displays that tell you when the trains are coming, and labels on the trains to say where they're going, but if you make a mistake and have to get off at the next stop, it may be a while before another train comes to take you to where you intended to go. A map comes in handy. So does the question "____ eki wa doko desu ka?" Or, Where is ___ train station? It's a simplistic question that I have used in numerous situations. Thankfully, many Japanese people are more than happy to help.

I hopped onto the train from Sawa station and rode it to Hitachi station. The festival was easy to find: it was right outside the station, and everyone was walking toward it. Once we'd all found each other, we headed toward the noise.

There was a lot going on. Kids' dance groups performing, vendors selling all manner of food, and cherry blossom trees everywhere. The trees lined Heiwa St., making a canopy of blossoms that was gorgeous to look at. Other people were taking as many pictures as I was.

For the most part, our group wandered around, eating food, taking pictures, and just seeing everything. We did some fun things like pound authentic mochi (rice ground into a paste and eaten like taffy).

At one point, later in the day, we decided to investigate Kamine Park, which was about a mile's walk away and supposedly had lots of sakura trees in a more traditional landscape. The walk, however, drained most of the energy a lot of us had left, and we barely stayed before heading back down. It was getting dark, anyway, as the sun starts going down around 6 and is completely gone by 8. We arrived at the train station and went our separate ways, mostly in silence, digesting food and the excitement of the day.

I took so many pictures.

One thought that keeps coming back to me is that I still can't believe I'm here. In all the years I watched anime, read manga, and learned about Japan, I never actually thought I'd ever be here, able to participate in the culture I'd admired from afar. In many anime and manga, characters go to a shrine and make an offering before praying for luck, or wisdom, or good grades in school, or whatever they want. There's a Shinto shrine by my house. I can go there whenever I want. Similarly, cherry blossom festivals are a strong part of Japanese culture. Now I've been to one. I'm going to teach at a Japanese school, where the kids are going to eat in the classroom, clean up the school at the end of the day, and essentially do all the things that kids in anime and manga all do. I'm going to watch these practices in action, because these things are in anime and manga because they're part of Japanese culture.

I pounded actual mochi and ate it today. I didn't think I'd ever do that, either.

Someday I'm going to go to Tokyo, and Kyoto. I'm going to visit a cat cafe, and the cat island. I'm going to watch anime on TV and in theaters. I'm going to learn Japanese and speak it to other people.

I've felt a bit numb these past days, and I can't decide if it's sheer disbelief that I've actually realized a dream I didn't think I'd ever get, or peace at finally being here. I really, genuinely can't tell.

I'm eager for work to start. Having to participate in life again should wake me up. At the very least, getting paid at the end of May will perk me up, since right now I have a daily spending budget that I absolutely must stay under. That's all months away, though. And somehow, I'm in no rush. I enjoyed ambling around today, because in my mind, this is only my first Sakura Matsuri of many. I plan to be here for at least one more.

I'm in Japan, and I'm in absolutely no rush to go anywhere else.