Help!

Ok I have lots of really cool pictures of the sports day and my elementary school kids - borrowed a digital camera - but despite managing to get pictures up on this damn blog before I can't seem to upload any now. It seems determined to mess me about especially since the pictures are guaranteed to be the best part. Can anyone offer any sage advice? I'd also like to know how to rob images off the internet for this thing - anyone able to help me?

Leitrim is much cooler than anyone ever knew.

So I’m a bit pissed (not too bad) and I’m on my bike cycling hands free over the river to the Bridge club for a hip hop night. Apparently the DJs are great – here for one night only before they go to Hiroshima to perform tomorrow. The gaijin are out in force – most of them dressed in their ghetto finery – one guy sporting a very tasteful medallion – its chunky, its gold, it’s a plastic dollar sign.

We’re wandering over there – past the primped and dyed uber-styled Japanese girls (put your tongue back in gaijin boy – poor Japan attracts some of the sleaziest westerners going – but you knew that). We wander past the uber-pretty, uber-styled Japanese boys. The drinking while driving in Japan is completely prohibited in Japan – zero-tolerance – if you’ve had a sip you’re over the limit. So I’m just thinking – there’s an awful lot of cars here when I realise what kind of cars they are.

Not many people reading this are from my village – but Emma if you’re out there – you know Francey Mac’s car? Think that but pimped by Pimp my Ride for Xhibit. Lots of really old, expensive, classic American cars ridiculously pimped. Then beyond the cosmetics is the hydrolics. Cars suspended three quarters of the way off the ground. Holy shit – maybe this happens in Leitrim but I’m not cool enough to know about it. As a gaijin in Japan I’m not very cool either but that’s cause I’m white – I have black friends though which seems to pass on some kind of associated cool. They are really into rap culture here. (Of course there is the other side of the story whereby any of the black JETs get subjected to some quite offensive personal comments and scrutiny which we’ve been assured is just as rude in Japan as it would be anywhere else).

So we go inside – the warm up acts are dodgy at best but still crazy dancing ensues. Just before the main act we all get called outside – a battle is about to begin – yes the cars are trying to out bounce each other. It’s the red one verses the black one – too late I remember my phones video capability and so I have an unclear video of them pulling away. It was one of the most surreal experiences I’ve had here so far I still reel when I think about it. I know that the yakuza drag race along the main road in front of my house at night and that there are some seriously pimped out cars around the city but actually watching them try to out-bounce each other really threw me. And it was the really Japanese way that they did it too – someone was there with a video camera and the red car crew practiced the little hand signal chant thing they were going to do for the video before it was switched on and the battle began. Fun times.

Undokai Aftermath

So after the sweatiness of Undokai comes the messiness of the Enkai – the drinking party. I had been forewarned about the bizarreness that is an Enkai but hadn’t really expected too much from my oh so nice but oh so tame teachers. I was greeted at the (sliding) door of the tatami room we were eating in with a pint of beer – a stammered question from someone who’s never spoken English to me before about whether I drink beer was quickly answered. Then we get down to the business of eating – such a large amount of food for so many small people. I was sitting opposite Kocho-sensei (the principal) – the seating plan was drawn out of a hat – so some polite him speaking Japanese and smiling and me speaking English and smiling ensued.

Then from what I thought was out of nowhere I was ushered up to the top of the room with one of the teachers who sits at the 1st grade teachers desk with me. We were handed a small glass of coke and two straws – then other pairs of teachers joined us and I realised it was a drinking game – only minus the drink. The teachers divided themselves up into their year groups (teachers here only teach one subject and one year group) and I was told we must do a performance. Everybody had decided to try a section of the traditional military exercise performed by the boys earlier that day. This involved them climbing on top of each other to form pyramids. My bloody camera was of course on the far side of the room while the 2nd year teachers formed a three tiered pyramid on their hands and knees before all straightening out and falling in a pile to the floor – the pictures below show the boys doing it which was all well and good but when a gang of drunk teachers were at the same it was almost too much for me.

I was innocently polishing off my beer (yes Japan has turned me into a beer lover – I can’t believe it – I like beer) when the very shy female English teacher who when I have tried to talk to her in English has responded in Japanese (which she knows I can’t speak)) came over and asked me if I would Irish dance for them. Japan is like an Irish village in many ways – they all know everything about each other and they pass on stuff about you that they have heard. I was watching the girls practice for their dance performance during the week and one of the teachers was telling me about it – traditional Japanese etc. She asked me if Ireland had any traditional dancing so I said yes. She then asked me if it was very slow and after I establishing she had never heard of Riverdance I risked a couple of 1-2-3s to show her. This is what led to my embarrassingly bad on the spot performance. Definitely a case of dance Monkey, dance.

I was rescued by my favourite teacher – Karakawa-sensei who has great English, is obsessed with the Beatles and Western rock in general and who collects swear words – he was very happy when I was able to expand his vocabulary. I stopped dancing and he got up insisting that he was going to dance with me. I then decided it was time for my revenge told all the teachers to get up – I was going to teach them Irish dancing. Oh how easy the 1-2-3s are when you slow it down – oh how foolish all my teachers looked when they tried to speed it up. Who’s the monkey now?

After two hours of eating and drinking it seemed time for most of my teachers to go home – which most of them did but the die hards kept going – of course me among them. I thought we’d end up at a bar but no we landed in another restaurant where they proceeded to order more food – what the hell? You’re all so little and you’re eating so much. By now I had discovered that a lot of my teachers spoke a lot more English than they ever let on in school (I thought that after the enkai when they had long conversations with me that they might repeat the performance in school – but I was wrong) and so I was having a great time chatting with (we got onto what names mean) Mr. Lives beside the Beach, Mr. Forrest, Mr. River and Mr. Happy in the Paddy Field. Two more hours pass and by now most of my teachers are very well on so its time for us all to go home.

I was not happy at this fading – it was only 10.30pm and I was just ready to get going. So lucky that I got a text from my friend – we’re heading to the club (yes that’s The club because there is only one club in this – the Leitrim of Japan) …

Undokai

Undokai was held on Saturday 10 September and began at 9.05 precisely – the opening ceremony, a boring affair that meant little to me was conducted with solemnity. Of course the teachers and students had all been at school for long hours before that. I went in at the usual time of 8am but when I got up at 6.45 they were all already across the road at school preparing.

The first event was the skipping competition. Whole classes trying to skip with one very long skipping rope. This small piece of bizarreness set the tone for the whole day. The three legged race was of course whole classes tied together. There was also the run along each others backs race. One kid is elected runner and runs along the backs of their classmates who after being trampled run forward to reform the bridge they are creating. What about the insurance I hear you cry – it seems that anyone who hurts themselves is supposed to just suck it up. These kind of activities build toughness – at least I think this is the attitude behind it – helped by the fact that insurance companies don’t seem to control the country. And its great all the crazy activities they have look like great craic – til I saw the one kid who had been elected back runner who never stood on a single back – he got necks every time and his classmates practically fell away screaming in pain every time. All in all though the day was enjoyed by all.

Later in the day the events took a weirder still turn when the Star Wars music came on and one boy wearing a white hat supported by three other boys attacked other similar groups until he had scalped his opponent or knocked him off his human mounts.

The girls performed a traditional Hokkaidan fishermans dance which sounds boring but which was really cool – lots of shouting ‘Soran Soran Soran’ and Mexican waves to symbolise the sea.

The crowning moment of the dangerous activities had to be the traditional military/athletic display that the boys put on. They spread out across the pitch in twos and threes and following screamed and whistled instructions displayed their prowess. Handstands and balancing was succeeded by pyramids. In the one in the picture here they go from a pyramid like this to lying out flat and collapsing on top of each other. The finale is the pyramid where they are all standing up straight and there are three layers of them.

Undokai Countdown

Sports Day or Undokai is one of the most important events in the Japanese school year – they go crazy over it and my school is no different. Classes have been skipped all over the show to make room for all the Undokai preparations. Each class designs and makes a massive banner as well as a smaller class label they wear on their PE uniforms on the day. I asked what I could do to help and it was suggested that I stay after school to help the kids with their banner preparation so I have a few times and have now slopped paint and stuck flowers on all kinds of banners – some with pictures of their homeroom teacher, some with ninja’s and one class even has the Power Rangers on theirs.

We also had a rehearsal – so the kids could practice when and where they run in, when to bow etc. It was at this that I first heard them play the Dangermouse theme tune. As you can probably understand I got very excited. ‘They’re playing Dangermouse’, I thought. “That’s Dangermouse!”, I said. “Eh!?!” (can’t convey the complex inflection they can put in this). By now I was getting very excited and had hurried over to the teacher holding the CD case (the full of himself PE teacher who has the most irritating laugh of all time) “Sumimasen, is that Dangermouse?” “Eh!?!” “Dangermouse – its Dangermouse (singing now) he’s the smartest, he’s the quickest, he’s the best … Dangermouse! Dangermouse! Dangermouse!!!” “Iie, that is Devilman” “What (crestfallen)?” “HAHAHAHAHA something incomprehensible probably about me – that is Devilman”. So it turns out that the Dangermouse music seems to be robbed from some Japanese anime that is it’s contemporary – as far as I can tell. I know Dangermouse was old when I watched it when I was a kid and it seems that this Japanese Devilman is about 30 years old. They were quite entertained when I explained that the same music was used in British cartoon that featured a James Bond-esque mouse.

But preparation for all-important Undokai had to continue so and I had to make yet another gaff. The school had borrowed several tents from other schools – steel frames with canvas covers to keep the sun off the kids and their assembled families on the day. The frames divided onto bundles and tied together and so I the builders daughter from Cavan went to help carry them to where they were being erected. I picked up one bundle of steel poles and headed over to the sports pitch – jaws dropped, “EH” was exclaimed and possibly the traffic on the street stopped moving. Then I realised, I was the only girl trying to help, the students were taking bundles four to a set and the teachers were struggling with two to a bundle. It was only me and the two teachers who are also sumo wrestlers that had taken a bundle on our own. Then the compliments started. “Rachel, you are very strong”, “Ahh, powerful” etc. To be honest what I think they were really thinking was “What the hell? Who is this freak who calls herself Rachel-sensei?”

Quarrelling

I've begun to coach the school's speech contest students. All over Japan students are coerced into taking part in the English speech contest and mine are no different. If you've seen Lost in Translation then you know that the most problematic aspect of English for Japanese people is the different pronounciation of R and L. Lip my stockings!

Japanese is a sound poor language and the two alphabets (that are alphabets - not the thousands of chinese characters) have characters that are romanised as ra ri ru re and ro but the pronounciation of them is a cross between the English R and L - rrlla rrlli rrllu rrlle rrllo (this is very much an approximation). So when the Japanese students see r or l written down its very confusing and sometimes (for me) hilarious. It is also frustrating as hell.

The two girls I'm tutoring for the contest are great - confident, friendly and now my favourites. We spent about an hour after school trying to master the word quarrel - by the end I couldn't say it but the girl whose speech it's in (twice - oh the cruelty) got it. When she finally said it right she jumped up and ran out of the classroom shouting to her friends outside that she got it. These speech contest kids are giving the elementary kids a run for their position of work highlight.

Mountaineering

When I was a kid my mother dragged us from one end of the country to the other in search of mountains to climb – our local Cuilcagh, the Mournes, Errigal and of course the Macgillycuddy Reeks. In the elementary school I was asked what the highest mountain in Ireland was and I could proudly point to Carrauntoohill on the map and say “I climbed it” (well nearly, we didn’t go to the absolute top because my father was carrying Cian (who was just over 1 year) on his back and it was too steep and nobody wanted them to go pitching off the side of the mountain). My English teacher then looked at the height (conveniently marked on the map) and said “Ahh 1041 metres, smaller than Daisen” – Tottori’s local tallest mountain. Of course I didn’t need this incident to tell me that Japan has much higher mountains than Ireland – I just have to look outside but the point was seriously reinforced by the hike we went on just over a week again.

We went to climb Mt. Mitsoku, a sacred mountain dotted with temples. The best part was that after the climb we were to stay the night in the main Temple complex and had been promised beer and entertainment.

I scabbed a lift to the mountain but unfortunately the convoy I was in arrived too late to climb – nobody is allowed to go up after 3pm. We were a bit miffed cause we had been told it was only an hour up and half an hour back and though it does get dark early here (7pm and the lights are all necessary) we thought it was a bit anal – we were 15 minutes late. But the Japanese don’t budge on these things so we settled into the monastery after being reassured that we could climb it in the morning – our zazen meditation class with the monk was going to be at 6.30 so we could climb the mountain at 8am (yippee). They had some Buddist scripture for us to copy out (I’m ok at tracing kanji but still illiterate so I have no idea what any of it says). After dinner the entertainment started – traditional Japanese dances by some yukata’ed women and a kid in all the gear. Then some different women came out, they were in yukatas too and even had on the pale geisha make-up but they were looking more hoary than pale as the moon. They were in fact several guys in drag who entertained us with a fan dance – it was genuinely hilarious especially when one of them began to loose his fake eyelash.

More beer was consumed (would you believe I actually like beer now – it’s a slippery slope from here on out) and the French CIR who organised the trip asked us to gather into our national groups and perform something from our country to entertain the Japanese people who had shared their culture with us. And so as everybody gathered into their national groups I sat there hoping no-one would notice if I slipped into my American accent and trying to figure out if there was anyone else who was the only one from their country. Lots of Americans, a sizable group of Canadians, two British guys, two girls from New Zealand, a Russian … no wait two bloody Russians and there was even two French people. I was the only one from Ireland so I tried the I have Canadian cousins can I join you trick (they were willing but it was me who couldn’t brazen it out) then I realised just cause I haven’t got the passport doesn’t mean I’m not British. I went to school in the north, I was even bloody born in the north so I wandered over but couldn’t go through with that either. And not just cause I don’t know all the words to the British national anthem – I actually know it better than the Irish one though there was a point when I did know the Irish one (enough to be appalled at what it means).

So eventually I figured out what I was going to do – up I got beer can in hand and asked everyone to raise a glass (ok can) for a toast. I taught them how to say Kampai! in Irish so we Slainte!’ed all round and it was going so well at this point (ie I had drunk more beer) that I decided to teach everybody the 1-2-3’s. So they watch me and then I slowed it down “1, 2, 3” before speeding it up and having the craic of watching a room full of half-cut people falling all over themselves trying to do a 1-2-3 quickly. And so we drank on and soon it was 4am and time to grab those two hours of sleep required before meditation.

Meditation was not what I expected – I’ve never successfully meditated (my Catholic school tried to make religion more interesting by having a prayer room (comfy seats and heating ensured that my prayers had the soft rhythmic quality of snores)). This was cool though lots of breathing, counting and a monk wandering around whacking people on the back with a big stick … seriously he was beating the shit out of them but I was a good neophyte and kept my mind on my breathing and counting as he went round smacking people.

Then it was time for the climb and Jesus was it a climb. None of these namby pamby ‘walks’ for the Japanese – parts of the hike were literally 180º inclines – we were scrambling up rock faces. It was great, I loved it. I may never sweat so much in my life again but it was fantastic. Anyone who comes to see me has to come and do it. Half-way up there was this temple built on stilts out over the edge of the cliff it was on – you could go all the way around on a little walkway and get an uninterrupted view of the country and mountains for miles. At the top of the hike was the main temple though and it was seriously impressive. It’s a small wooden temple that appears to be floating on the side of a cliff-face. The temple covers a shallow cave in the cliff and used to house seven statues one of which is hollow and filled with sacred scriptures. Its beautiful – completely worth the punishing climb. If anyone has seen Princess Mononoke there’s a bit near the start where it shows the village elders sending the prince guy away and the decision is made in a similar structure.

And the Cutest Child in the World Award goes to …

I’ve started my elementary school visits. I get to go play with the kids about three times a month and I know its going to be the highlight of work. You know the ad for the new phone network 3 – the one with the singing cherry and the two little girls who are in the finals for this award – imagine a whole school full of kids to rival those two all focused on you and trying to impress you with their English. The class consisted of my self-introduction followed by questions – I was asked what kind of beetles we have in Ireland and how far I could swim (they were very impressed with my answer of several kilometres – that earned me points). We then played games – London Bridge is Falling Down (ahh… how the lake at home returns to haunt me) and the Business Card Game.

The Business Card Game consisted of everybody approaching each other and executing this script.
Me: Hello. My name is Rachel
Kid: Hello. My name is _____. Nice to meet you.
Me: Nice to meet you too.
But really the English was just in the way of the real business – Janken. Don’t know if you’ve heard but Rock, paper, scissors is a serious phenomenon here. I’ve used it in Junior High classes where they laugh at how slow I am – but they were nothing to the elementary kids who were determined to beat me and win one of my business cards. Because that of course was the most important part – win as many business cards as you can by playing Janken for them. I think I enjoyed it far too much.

As soon as the game started I was surrounded by a huge crowd of kids – there was almost 60 in each class – and I Jankened until I was really to fall over. In the first class I was beaten badly and had no cards left. In the second class I somehow got good at Janken – I couldn’t loose even when I tried cause all the kids wanted was one of my cards so at the end I gave away the left over cards and was nearly mobbed for them. After the frenzy to get my meishi (cards) ended I was politely approached by almost every kid who I hadn’t won a card off and solemnly offered one of their cards. I now have an excellent network of contacts here in Japan, does it really matter that they are only 9?

Cead Mile Failte

I just have to reiterate how friendly the Japanese people are. Several of my neighbours (I think they’re my neighbours they must live near-by) have accosted me on the street to say hello. One elderly man tried (in very broken English after checking that I wasn’t already married) to recommend my landlord’s son to me. I was told, “He very nice boy”.

Aside from the random attempts at set ups it’s just the general friendliness in everything they do. My elementary school teacher has (after checking that I wasn’t married) decided that she and I should go out on the town together at some point.

Ireland has the reputation for friendliness and hospitality but its Japan that actually delivers on it.

Boot Camp

The Japanese constitution drawn up in the wake of WWII or ‘The War’ as it is here renounced war forever. There is a movement within the country to get rid of that clause and it is sinisterly enough supported by America for the obvious reasons. Despite the official policy there are still some very military undertones to the way things are done here. School is obviously where I’ve seen it most – lots of bowing of course but it’s the precise way it’s done and the way everybody conforms and falls in line. They expect to and are expected to.

Every class begins with the nensei (class rep) going up the top and shouting (in a voice that would be painful for a banshee to listen to) the relevant order which the rest of the class responds to with a cat wailed ‘I humbly thank you for condescending to teach me’ (I’m paraphrasing). They then all bow and in most bowing instances in Japan the parties bow to each other (and then get caught up in a frenzy of bowing to each other which threatens to never end) but in school the pupils bow to the teacher who does not bow back.

Every morning at precisely 8.05 all the teachers get up and bow to the Kocho sensei (principal) before the morning meeting begins. The school’s opening ceremony and our earthquake evacuation drill were both executed with military precision. Each class knew which exit and in what order they were to enter and exit from. One of the teachers issues orders which roughly correspond with “Attention” and “At ease”.

When I was in school we had assemblies and lined up in our classes but it was all the casual wander in when you’re ready (and late if you’re Rachel) with people standing about and chatting (or sitting on your arse and trying to sleep if you’re Rachel). It may have been a Catholic girls school but I’m happy it wasn’t boot camp.

I got the military undertones straight away but it was the traditional military style dance performance that the boys do that really confirmed it for me. School here is a mini boot camp.

Apologies

Hey I'm really sorry - I was having trouble logging onto the blog and then I got busy so here is the stuff I've been writing and not posting - its all a bit out of date but I'll catch it up!