Unloading

I think I'm just going to start writing and see what comes out today.

Bottling up depression is dangerous and quite different than when someone bottles up anger. When one bottles up anger, it's apt to explode like a can of soda opening after rigorous agitation. Depression, is like putting a hole in the can first. And every time one feels like they can't tell someone about it for fear of coming across as a downer, whiny, or otherwise annoying, it puts another hole in the can.

I was driving with Mitsuko over the weekend and out of nowhere I unloaded. A lot.

I didn't shout or get mad at her, mind you. Nothing like that at all. I had a breakdown after another couple months worth of trying to repress what I'm thinking might be a deep-seated depression at my ineffectiveness and inability to do anything related to the reason I came to Japan on JET in the first place.

Every time I start to talk about how frustrating my placement is, it seems that someone will almost always inadvertently talk about how maybe "culture shock" has finally hit me. That's bullshit. It hasn't. I'm going to go on a limb here and expand this following point to more than just my current situation. The worst thing people can do is tell someone it's their fault when a given person is having problems. It makes them not want to speak up. What might have been handled in one conversation gets dragged out and repressed over an agonizing course of time. It takes a lot of gall to assume (and you are assuming) you know what someone is dealing with in their life, or in their workplace. So, stop it.

I love Japan. I have the best time on the rare occasion when I get to do a bit of traveling, exploring, and interacting with people who want to talk to me. It's my work environment that's destroying me.

I looked through my journal and for the past couple of weeks, every entry has opened with the following words:

Nope.

None.

Not today.

Or today.

I think you get the point.

Nearly every other day, while I was sitting here with little to do but collect my thoughts, there would be a phone call to the office. It came from the 2nd year teacher asking for help because the class was too out of control or there would be some kind of fighting that required all available (2nd year) teachers to run up and help.

I have been informally uninvited to these classes after several incidents (including an altercation with a student) wherein the teacher apologized to me once class was over and the students were dismissed.

So that's a third of the potential classes I can't go to. I wouldn't want to go anyway as it stands. I don't need to be insulted, have obscenities shouted, or be the target for paper airplanes, paper wads, etc - while I'm trying to talk. Unless they fix this I won't be making an appearance. I make use of the indefinite pronoun in this case only to point out that I don't care who corrects their behavior, just that someone does. I've had talks with the principal of the school about this, as well as the 2nd year staff. Everyone unabashedly agrees that something is truly wrong. But that is as far as the conversation ever goes.

Those who would teach these children are holding them under a faucet, waiting for the water so that they may wash their hands of the whole affair.

That's just one thing.

The former English teacher still haunts these halls. I don't know what she does other than tell me things I already know. Every time she walks near me I start to become a little bit annoyed at the possibility that I'll be dragged into a conversation I don't want to have. She'll say something in English that I don't understand - which is entirely not a problem. The problem is that she will phrase it in a way that sounds as though it's a new thing she's referring to. This causes me to ask, "What?" or state that I'm not aware of the thing she's just mentioned. Then when I find out what it is in Japanese I come to realize that there's nothing new and I'm on task, on schedule as always. She's just always trying to be on my case.  Let's have an example.

We have an assembly once a week. Every Wednesday morning in the gym the student council will go over any important news, and then any teachers wishing to make announcements will do much the same. She frequently reminds me about this - two years into doing it. It's not a friendly reminder though as she laments the information unto me with an elongated (mis)pronunciation of my name. She'll follow that up with a prolonged drawl oozing instructions out of her mouth to me as though I require it so. I have to hand it to her though, she knows how to sound like a complete asshole when she's trying.

"Joshuerrrrrrrr"

"はい、Yes."

"The meeting is todaaaaaaaaay." She will say with a rising intonation of impatience, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

"What?" I'm alarmed because she's expressing this to me as though it's something I am late or not prepared for.

"School meeeeeeeeeeeting.... in the gyyyyyyyym." I know you're thinking that maybe she just pronounces things like this and it's a complete misunderstanding. I'll put that to rest right now. She doesn't speak English like that to anyone else. I've heard her in and outside of class.

"Oh, the zenkouchoukai." I quickly respond both at ease and frustrated. First, she's not at the meeting. So I'm not late. I look at the clock to confirm it doesn't happen for 10 more minutes. Then, I looked at the rest of the staff room. Everyone else is still here so it's not as if I'm supposed to be there early.

Anyway, that's just one of many stories involving her. She never speaks Japanese to me, nor do I to her. Not since she made fun of it. The third volume of journals should really list her somewhere in the credits because she's got more screen time than anyone else in it.

Despite knowing there would be fallout I also canceled my school lunch recently.

Doing that itself was a process and required talking to multiple parties. One instance I remember quite well. It started when I talked to the quite nice JTE (with whom I get along splendidly) that sits next to me and it came up in conversation that I might be able to cancel my school lunch. I left it at that for a while, but eventually I truly wanted to cancel the lunch because of dietary reasons. I have to say first that I don't mind　kyuushoku at all, and I almost always enjoyed it - Natto isn't food. I didn't drink the milk however, because who does, and I didn't want to eat the rice because I'm trying to lose weight and that amount of empty carb loading just wasn't doing me any favors. It's a lot of rice for those not in the know and wasting food (throwing it back in the bin to be later tossed) is unacceptable to me.

Eventually I talked with the office lady because she was in charge of collecting the lunch money every month. The former JTE, y, was there as well. I wasn't going to ask about canceling the school lunch on that occasion. Originally I was double checking how much I was required to pay for it. An important point for later: It's been a well known fact since I arrived that I don't drink milk, and as a result I don't receive any for lunch. Irrelevant to the milk issue, I found out a year later that I was being overcharged because I have a half day on Wednesday and thus don't eat at the school. This being the second year, I asked the office lady if the amount on my payment envelope was correct. It showed 5000 yen, which is the same it always was. She said it was right. I paused then explained the whole overcharged scenario to her, but I made a mistake. I had forgotten it was because of Wednesdays, and I mentioned milk.

She was confused then looked past me towards y, made a face, then explained it was because of not eating on Wednesday. Immediately I felt stupid. Of course that's what I meant to say, I just slipped up. She looks at me and says, (in Japanese, she doesn't speak any English) "Do you understand?" She looks past me at y again and repeats, "Does he understand?" Now of course I'm feeling a bit annoyed because I do understand, and now y has been brought into this discussion as well - something I did not want.

The office lady explains that she'll give me my refund at the end of next year rather than adjusting how much I have to pay now, which is ridiculous.

I say to the office lady that I understand, but we again go through this song and dance at which point y gets up and says, "Do you understand?"

Or at least she would have. As she got up I turned around and said, "No." She sat right back down.

If we weren't friends before, we sure are now.

A week after that I just told her (office lady) that I wanted to cancel it outright. I was done with it. It took a couple weeks before another person talked to me about it, because it somehow involved him. He said that they would look it but that it would require some phone calling and double checking to make sure I could be removed. His explanation was that there are people who work for the town that carefully balance - that word comes up so often - each meal and he worried that I wouldn't be eating enough, or eating a balanced meal.

That might sound sweet to you, but this is a person who made fun of my weight for quite some time after I arrived, and poked fun at myself and the other ALT in Kotoura-cho at our welcome dinner with the BOE people. After that dinner, I thanked him for his "kind words," and he respond thus:

"Those weren't kind words." Anyway, moving on.

They eventually picked a day when the lunch would stop for me, and now I bring a salad I make at home. Every once in a while though he'll stop by and ask if I'm eating enough.

Yes, I am. Thank you.

This is of course annoying because that same person will equally ask what I'm eating for dinner. I'm honest, and there's no shame in what I'm cooking. I don't eat unhealthy. Despite this, I've always received a warning to "not eat too much".

I won't. Thank you. 

I have plenty more to say, but I guess I should stop here.

-J

Pains

or

A Brief Glimpse Into The Third Volume (And What He Found There)

     I know I haven't written here in a while. 

     2014 is well behind us. I've gone through multiple drafts of this post, and it's taken a few months for me to settle on the right words. I'm sure they'll still be properly inefficient but I need to say something in order to move on. Things really haven't been all that well. I think anyone reading through the journal - which I still maintain almost daily - would discover that for themselves. With the exception of Mitsuko, and a close circle of friends, rarely does anyone read them, and even then I mostly share short passages rather than entire entries.
     It was once suggested to me that I publish my journals. I'm a mere 5 pages away from completing the third volume (pictured above) of stories, anecdotes, and experiences in Japan. Having read through this third volume though has almost convinced me that I couldn't, or at least shouldn't. It's no secret that there's a constant antithesis that runs the course of this soon to be completed journal; just skimming it, even lightly, will reveal several stories of this nature.
     It pains me to have this many negative experiences documented. In a way it's probably good they are. Having few other ways to vent I would've likely lost my mind a long time ago. Mitsuko and some good friends have availed themselves to me on many occasions and for that I do thank them, but waste management facilities they are not, and I hate playing the part of the dump truck.
     Just today I had two of my classes canceled. The JTE who canceled them informed me that the classes were unruly, and the planned lessons could not be completed. Today's would-be lessons had to be moved to next week and in their stead the unfinished material would be covered. The unbelievably poor attitude of the entire first year class has been another dominating feature of my entries.
     Typically I eat with my kids. I rotate on a week by week basis: 1A, 1B, 2A, 2B, 3A, 3B, and then back around again. It's been several months since I've sat with the first year students. When I show up to class, they become upset. They have quite literally sighed when I walk into the classroom. I hate going to their sessions because of how extraordinarily unwelcome I am. I don't mind that they don't care. That's not the issue. I wish the staff would realize it and stop asking me to go. If the students don't want me around, then that's fine. I'll stay away. The last thing I want to do is contribute to why they hate English, America, or me. I realize that this might be a poor attitude on my part. Opponents would argue that I need to fight even harder exactly because of that. To those people I would say that by being trapped in a diminished role as noted by the Assistant in Assistant Language Teacher - our official designation - there is little power and seldom the opportunity to exercise any authority. Without that, we're completely helpless and at the mercy of a system, which to me doesn't work - at least for this.
     I do my best to be cheerful and act professional, but when the teacher has to apologize for the class afterward it's hard to feel like I've pegged it wrong. And if that is truly the case, then it is also hard to feel bad for the situation because there is obviously an awareness but a lack of action for it has not changed. This is just one problem though, and not really something I deal with every day. My visits to the first year classes have been dramatically reduced.
     Worse still is the increasingly sour relationship I have with a fellow worker who shall remain unnamed. I've been asked numerous times about when I'm going home (to America), which always feels like the person in question is telling me to leave. I've been told to my face by this person that they do not like English. They have approached me for the express purpose of saying to me, "I do not like English," which is a hell of a thing to say for someone who is supposed to teach it, and fairly rude towards someone who speaks it natively. Think about that for a second. That sentiment has also been expressed multiple times toward me, never once having been warmly received.
     This is a person who turns off the lights and shuts the door while I'm still packing up after a lesson, a person who hovers over my shoulder while I write or do work, a person who asks if I can understand the faxes I receive from elementary schools - every single time. This is a person who makes ridiculous requests which often feel like sabotage. I'm often asked to do things or create lessons on topics I couldn't possibly know about. Instructions are rarely given, and when I ask I'm treated like an idiot. I do my work in a timely manner but am reminded constantly and condescended towards daily. I'm asked last minute to create entire lessons all the time, and frowned upon when they're not good (refer to sabotage). I'm frequently asked to make things only a day before, only to have them rejected upon delivery because they're not what was asked of me. Multiple examples of all the above are well documented in my journals.
     This is what volume three contains. After only a cursory thumbing through the pages I became intensely depressed at my own sad experiences. On seemingly every page there was a story reflecting the exact opposite of what I was tying to accomplish here. My ultimate goal was to foster good relations between America and Japan. A professional goal was to acquire a Ph.D in my area of study - East Asian Languages and Literature - and my charge was to spread a more accurate image of what Japan is to Americans who still conflate reality with rampant hearsay.
     Apart from school life there were many things that cropped up though. There were of course positive things like when Mitsuko and I went to Fukuoka and ate the best ramen in Japan or when we went to Kobe and experienced a place brand new for the both of us. There were some scary things like Mitsuko getting hit by a car. Some annoying things like getting a driver's license and losing a wisdom tooth. There are also great moments when I really connected with some of my kids such as the speech contest prep, or just a simple lunch. Many things happened last year indeed. That being said, the overwhelming majority of volume three seems to be frustration.
     I'm still doing my best to be responsible. Responsibility for me means to treat my circumstances as just that, my circumstances. For every story I have there are twice as many positive ones that others will tell. I don't wish to sound like an apologist but true to my goal here I'll have to treat my experiences as essentially isolated. It's quite challenging though and what I fear is being unable to avoid telling the truth about what has happened for me in my placement. Sometimes I wonder if it's me.

And that's a really scary thought to entertain.

-J