Nostalgia, Beef Jerky, and Airplane Etiquette

**This is a picture of my hand, close-up.  No, it has nothing to do with this post...I just like it!

It is September 9th, 2011.  Summer, the "time to enjoy the sweet things in life" is over, while summer the "time to try to prepare for classes in fetid, humid air" lingers on...I will say though, that the mornings and evenings are getting cooler here in central Japan, and Autumn is whispering all kinds of sweet nothings in my ear as I bike to work. 

Travelling home to Seattle in summer was, of course, wonderful.  This year was also my 30-year High School reunion, so it was an especially nice trip. My head and dreams are filled with faces of friends and teachers, blueberries, raspberries, and the lakes, trees and the glorious smells of the Pacific Northwest. I am finding it hard to snap out of my reminiscences and think about the second term of school which will begin very soon... so I am giving myself a lot of "breaks", i.e. a little time to recount the story of flying back to Japan from Seattle in this post.

My seat on the plane, just in front of the wing, was a window seat on the right hand side of the cabin. I had boarded early, as my recent "Silver Medallion" frequent-flyer status allows (...I thought this early-boarding was meaningless when I scanned the chart of things I DIDN'T get until becoming a "Platinum Medallion" member, but the beauty of being assured space in the overhead bin and being able to settle in my seat without impatient people trying to get around me with lumpy suitcases won me over very quickly!).  My one and only neighbor very politely smiled at me before putting his bag up above and a little carry on under the seat in front of him. That is when everything took a bad, nearly evil turn...He pulled out a very large, EXTRA-SPICY bag of Beef Jerky to place in the seat pocket in front of him! BEEF JERKY!

Now don’t get me wrong—I do not wish to put down the Seattle-founded Oh, Boy! Oberto company (yes, the exclamation point is part of their name).  In fact, in junior high school I ate enough of the stuff to pave the road to, well, the other Emerald City (Get it? Seattle’s nickname?) *I am talking strictly jerky here...even THEN I knew that those “pepperoni sticks” were vile! **Hey! It just occurred to me that maybe the school allowed the stuff to be sold in the student store in the first place NOT because it was supporting a local company but because they knew the power of pepperoni sticks in keeping young hormone-driven lips apart! Smelly food for thought... But back to the recent past:

The man...The extra-spicy beef jerky...the .00001 millimeters between our seats...and the 10+ hours we were about to share together on an international flight...

In the name of self-defense, with the speed that can only be generated by true “fight or flight” situations (and paired, perhaps, with a small dose of general middle-age crankiness at the lack of public decorum infesting society...), I said:

Jen: (in a dramatic stage whisper, with big, surprised eyes, only 1/2 turned toward the man): “Beef Jerky?! No…..no, no, no, no nononononooooo, he CAN’T plan on eating beef jerky on a PLANE with no air circulation!…It MUST be a gift for someone back home! Wow…beef jerky…on a plane!...hehehe…” (shakes head in disbelief)

Man: (with blank look) “ .................”.

I wasn’t sure he could understand me…the flight was going from Seattle to Tokyo, then on to China and Vietnam…he could have been from anywhere.  Not that his being able to understand me or not excuses my rudeness (But truly, was I any more rude than he was, bringing BEEF JERKY on a ten-hour international flight?! And what about the Airport selling the stuff? Talk about RUDE! I’d say THEY have a bit of explaining to do: endangering the air of millions of passengers and crew-members alike on a daily basis! I think I’ll write a letter!). I finally knew he did understand when, the first time he got up from his seat he took the offensive meat-product with him and came back to the seat smelling suspiciously minty-fresh! He had obviously brushed his teeth (and possibly downed half a bottle of mouthwash) after his snack. I smiled very brightly at him and sighed a big inward sigh of relief.   He said perhaps two things to me during the flight, “excuse me” and “sorry”...and I hardly blame him...who wants to talk to a crazy, rude woman? As I rarely enjoy talking to strangers on flights, his not interacting with me was a second, hidden “reward” for my rudeness I guess...

Karma can work very quickly, though: just after I stage-whispered my dismay at my seat-mate’s choice of in-flight nourishment, the girl/woman (impossible for me to guess) sitting in front of me decided, 30 minutes in to the flight, that it STILL wasn’t time to close her window-shade.  All of the others were closed and had been closed since the last Seattle-esque speck of land had disappeared from sight. I realized that I was still wearing my sunglasses and when I took them off, I was nearly blinded by that special light that is only found at 37,000 feet.  I quickly put them back on and assessed the situation.  Technically, the window was part mine....3/4 of it hers, but 1/4 of it fell decidedly on my side of the back of her seat. Telling myself it was one of those situations where it was better to do a thing first and perhaps apologize for it later, I took full possession of that 1/4 and pushed the shade down.  Depending upon her reaction, I had planned on saying something like, “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had fallen asleep and hadn’t realized that the time has come for everyone to shut their window-shades so we can sleep or watch movies!” Her reaction was to jump as if I had tasered her. She did not say anything, but slightly turned her head, as if unsure of what crazy thing I was going to do NEXT!  When nothing more came from behind her seat, she must have convinced herself that we were now in some sort of negotiation with the window-shade, because she proceeded to re-open it “just an inch”, which had the effect of not only burning my eyeballs, but burning them with the laser-like focus and intensity found only on vintage Star-Trek episodes!

Was she THAT INTERESTED in clouds? Was she hoping to see a sunset, despite the fact that we would be directly under the sun for the entire trip?! These were my thoughts as I closed the window again, while saying “I’m sorry, it is just a little too bright out there to have our shared window-shade open just now...”  A little while later I began to feel a little troll-like because it occurred to me that it might have been her first trip on an airplane....and then it occurred to me that maybe she had been  using the light to read because she didn’t know how to turn on the overhead light. Well, I had planned to find a way to show her how to do so on my way back from a trip to the bathroom and a little stretch.  Long before I made it to my seat, however, I could see that she had the window-shade open again, but was using her pillow to “block” the light from reaching me. Now, anybody who has foolishly opened an airplane window-shade mid-flight knows that the special GOD-LIGHT at that elevation has the power to penetrate skulls, not to mention the flimsy puffs that pass for in-flight “pillows.” I marveled, for a split second, at how the pillow was nearly translucent, before pushing the window-shade down once more.  She finally left it down until someone else opened their shade a few minutes before bits of the Japanese archipelago could be deciphered through the clouds.  I let her keep it open then, and suddenly wondered why she hadn’t opened the OTHER window, slightly in front of her seat, but which she must have had 3/4’s possession of...

My puzzlement melted away upon hearing what I have come to value as one of the most beautiful phrases in any language, anywhere: “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have begun our descent in to (insert city name here), where the local time is...”My brushes with beef-jerky breath and near-blindness were forgotten as I started to ponder just how many more comfortable minutes I would have before the Japanese humidity would welcome me back with open, damp arms.

Wonderful, Horrible Thursday

Today is Thursday. My "easiest" and most "difficult" day of the week: easy because I have only one class...difficult because it happens to be my largest and most unruly group! It should improve, as soon as I can remember everyone's name and use those names within sentences to keep their attention when I need to.

I have a little bit of a rant to write, but first, I hope you are enjoying the photo above...can you imagine the conversation that was had when trying to arrive at a name for their hair salon?

Keiko: I know, Junko, Let's use a foreign word...that should get some attention.

Junko: Yeah! Good idea, Keiko! But let's NOT look up the meaning of it!

(...I don't imagine I will be visiting any time soon!)

So this morning, at precisely 3:58 a.m., I am awakened by the slamming of a car door. Then I hear one of those prolonged "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep" sounds that tells people a sliding door in a mini-van is being opened. THEN I hear rummaging, then "patta-patta-patta-patta" (the sound of someone running in ill-fitting slippers) disappearing in to the distance. Fully awake, and angry because I had only one more hour of sleep left before my alarm was set to go off, I decided to go out on my deck and see exactly who it was running around making so much noise at that hour. A woman came running back down the street, patta-patta-patta, slammed the back door of her van, pushed the button that made the sliding door close with another "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep", and then slammed her own driver's door. This is not the first time this has happened, but it is the first time I have seen the culprit. I also realized that she parks in front of my house OUT OF CONSIDERATION FOR HER FRIEND/CUSTOMER(?) WHO LIVES DOWN THE ROAD!!! She doesn't want to park in front of her friend's house because she KNOWS it will wake them up! So much for consideration of others...if I figure out her schedule, I am going to talk with her. Nothing like an irate foreigner speaking in broken Japanese to put the fear of God in to someone at 4 a.m.!

Okay, my little rant is over. Thank you very much.

"Crunky Nude Ball", anyone? Or a pancake milkshake?

Do either of these new Japanese products need ANY explanation? I mean, obviously they were created to fulfill a need in society (...weren't they?!). Sorry- the title of the milkshake is not "pancake" but "hotcake" milkshake...hmmm, that is a nice rhyme...there may be a poem in that! Except in Japan "Hotcake" is pronounced "hot-to-ca-kie" with four syllables, so it would be "hot-to ca-kie mir-ru-ku-sha-kie"!

Summer is a-comin' in...Loud, sing cu-ckoo!

Happy Easter to one and all. I woke up very early this morning and decided to ride my bike to the ocean---it is a stunning day here. I was sitting enjoying the view and listening to my music (today was Diana Krall, Rickie Lee, and the magnificent Charlotte Rae--hence the title of today's blog!). An older man came walking up with an entire flock of pigeons following him and he stopped and started to talk to me like we were old friends. I went along with him because, well, he was pretty old...and that is just the way I am--talkative!-- when he suddenly realized that I wasn't who he thought I was. I don't even think he realized I was foreign, which is kind of funny, given my height when compared to most Japanese... not to mention my sunglasses, a ridiculous headband and the bright orange-swirly patterned sweatshirt I was wearing. Still, he asked where I was from, if we hadn't met before, and if I rode my bike there often. We chatted a while and then he walked off after a few "domo's" and bows. Nice guy, but I am glad those damn pigeons followed him! I hope the Easter bunny is generous to you all. The photo is of the "winter roses" in the small garden next to my driveway.

Japan is my Second Home

Beyond the insanity of the last week because of nature's recent wrath here in Japan, it was a long week of goodbyes, speeches, and present giving-and-receiving for me. I swear, every vessel that can be used as a flower vase in my house is in service! It is nice to feel so loved by my students and colleagues. Teaching can have very, very strong emotional perks: One hundred and ninety 7th graders making a speech in English for me, giving me flowers, and clapping as I left the auditorium...200 or so 10th graders making a speech, giving me flowers, singing "Sing a Song" in English and then making a "canopy" of their arms above me as I left the multi-purpose room, in tears...and the same number of 8th graders doing something similar. I am happily drained of energy.

Yesterday was the "biggie" though: the all-school assembly in which five of us "leaving or retiring" teachers had to make a final farewell speech to everyone (1100 people). I often try to give speeches in both Japanese and English so that everyone can understand...but this year I barely had time to come up with a rough outline so I decided on English only. Since I am still recovering from a cold, I decided to make it short and sweet because I feared my voice wouldn't last. Well, listening to the other teachers' speeches-- luckily I was fourth!-- gave me better ideas...

I reminded students of all of the times we had studied the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" units, and how everyone always laughed when "teacher" or especially "English teacher" was mentioned...and then I talked about how I love teaching and that it is like opening a gift every year, and every day...you never know what it will be: sometimes it is a small thing (Oh- that girl couldn't pronounce that word last week...now she can!), and sometimes it is a big thing (Hey! I remember that girl hated English in the 8th grade...and now she is trying out for the prefectural speech contest!). I spoke about the various traits I loved in each of the groups I taught, and how I hoped for their continued success in English. I encouraged them to travel-- not just to experience the world, but to better understand their own country.

Then I lightened things up a bit (these ceremonies can be deadly serious!) and spoke about/sang the various sounds that will remind me of them and the school: our morning "quiet time" song, our school chime, the various songs I often heard at lunch-- I mentioned a few extremely popular Japanese band names and did a little imitation of Lady Gaga singing "Poker Face", which they loved-- and then I hummed the song that always plays at the end of the day : "What a friend we have in Jesus" (though only an instrumental version- I don't know if any of my students realize it isn't a Japanese song!).

That is when I switched gears and told them how much my family has been in contact with me since the earthquake and how much they want me "home." But, I told the students, I feel like I AM home, at least in my second home...and I just couldn't leave. I don't know if it was then when I started to cry or not, but that set off quite a few students, too! I have spent nearly half of my life here, how can I leave in a time of crisis? I can't.

Lastly, I talked about "Life=Change", a motto in my classes. I reminded them that one of the retiring teachers was born during the Second World War and that the head of our Board, who was sitting on the stage had lived through it. Then I talked about how proud I was that America, a country they fought that war with, had sent two huge ships full of food, blankets, kerosene, medicine and rescue helicopters just to help the Japanese people. Now THAT is change! I said that I hoped that they would find the good in every change in their lives.

At the very end, I sang a verse of our school song and a tiny bit of a beautiful song they sing here at our school festival which is full of reminiscences and hope at the same time. It is never easy to say goodbye, but this year was especially hard.

Several students ran up to me for a hug after the ceremony-- and this is a country that does not often show public displays of affection! I was so surprised by it I started crying all over again!

The link I am trying to include is to my latest photo book. This one is especially for my colleagues and students at Futaba Gakuen, but I hope everyone will enjoy it and that the love I have for this special place comes through the photos.

Shizuoka Futab...

...details I want t...

By Jennifer Hansen

Book Preview

Jennifer's Very Busy Day 9-15-10

This is a photo of the "Shinkansen Goods" (Bullet Train Goods) I bought recently: Bullet Train Chopsticks, Bullet Train Playing Cards and a Bullet Train Tape Measure with all of the stations along the way spelled out for you! These things will always remind me of my recent, VERY busy day: September 15th, 2010.

6:30~8:00 a.m.: Overslept, finally woke up, said a little prayer for my brother-in-law Perry who passed away recently and whose memorial service was later in the day (actually, the next day, Seattle time),took shower, hung up clothes stranded in the washing machine overnight, tried to finish packing for trip to Kofu city, gave up, slurped a hurried and weak cup of tea while my piece of toast toasted, slabbed some peanut butter on it and dashed out the door to get to work just in time.

8:15~8:30: Cooled off using my personal fan on my desk at school while listening to the Principal and VP’s give us the morning news....went up to 4th floor to teach 1st class.

8:40~9:30: Taught a joint-class with my friend Mrs. Eguchi, to give our 11th Graders a chance to ask any last questions they might have on the articles they have been reading in “Girls’ Life” magazine before the test. Slow bunch...there were not many questions!

9:40~10:30: Taught 7th Graders all about prepositions of place and reviewed the gestures we made up for them: On= hand on your head. Above= Hand above your head, In= finger pointing in mouth, etc. Gave them a quiz and sang “There were 10 in the Bed” song.

10:40~11:30: Went to observe one of our student teacher’s classes (she is also a former student of the school). The content was about Hawaiian and she started the class with “Aloha”. Things get blurry in the class after that, as my mind was racing ahead in the day...

11:30~12:20: Finished printing, collating, stapling together and folding the prints I needed for the talk I was giving in Kofu city the next day. I finished just as the chime rang for the end of the hour.

12:20~ 1:10: I raced home and finished packing for my trip to Kofu city (two hours away in another prefecture of Japan). I ate a popsicle for “lunch” and sat under my air conditioning for ten minutes because it is still grotesquely hot here...Rolled my suitcase back to school, stuffed it in the womens’ locker room and dashed back upstairs for 5th hour class.

1:15~2:05: Taught the 10th grade South class about making and replying to requests and had them tell me about their summer vacations in three sentences in front of the class. When they finished, one of their friends had to ask them a question. Fun for all (and easy for a tired teacher..).

2:15~ 3:05: Used nearly the same exact lesson plan for the 10th grade East class...it had been a very long time since I had seen them, though, and so spent even longer on summer speeches.

3:15~3:45: Changed in to a T-shirt, jeans and apron to supervise (and help) 12 girls do “Chu-Soji” which means “Medium Cleaning” in the auditorium before our school festival this coming weekend. They had to sweep between seats for 1500, wipe down the wooden arm rests (not ALL 1500 though...) and sweep the stage. We found a pair of shorts in the aisles and had a good laugh about who forgot them there...various teachers names were offered...literally whistling while we worked (the auditorium has great acoustics), cleaning went by pleasantly.

3:46: Realized I had forgotten to pack the ONE shirt I wanted to wear for my presentation...changed back in to teacher clothes.

3:50~4:30: Practiced with a student who is participating in the Prefectural English Speech Contest soon....she speaks well but needs some more practice with her gestures and timing.

4:35: Dashed home ONCE MORE for the forgotten shirt...doused my body with a cooling powder spray, then dashed back to school.

4:55: Grabbed my suitcase from the womens’ locker room and met another teacher I was traveling with in front of the school to wait for our taxi.

5:00: Watched (no, in this heat, I MARVELED) as several girls from the cross country team came running back through the school gate from a long run in the park....

5:05: Got in the taxi, rode to the station.

5:15: Bought some bottled water, a newspaper, and some VERY CUTE “Shinkansen (bullet train) Goods” which I had JUST read about in the newspaper (and which are pictured above). Thought briefly about getting something to eat for dinner but decided to wait—surely there would be something on the train.

5:40~... There was nothing on the train. About half way through the two hour train trip I find some old Tic-Tacs I have in my bag and snack on those to tide me over.

7:10~ The other teacher is snoozing and I am listening to a Wait, Wait, Don’t tell Me podcast when WHAM! There is a horrible, horrible noise that comes from the train and the tracks below us. Immediately everyone is wide awake, big-eyed, and silent. We are all looking at one another for some kind of explanation but there isn’t one. As the train screeches to a halt, I realized I was bracing myself to by hit by another train (gruesome thought, I know!). Luckily, the conductor came on to say that we had hit an animal on the track. I was relieved that there wasn’t going to be another train involved, but I couldn’t imagine what kind of animal it was. We were half an hour late and our Principal, who had gone up earlier in the day, called to ask where we were...he was waiting for us at the station.

8:15 p.m. It is now nearly 8 hours since my pathetic popsicle lunch and the Tic-Tacs are doing nothing to stop the growling sounds my stomach is making. We decided to go to an Italian place in the station and ordered some local wine- the area is famous for it. Without that wine and my raging appetite, I don’t think I would have eaten most of that food...what is it about fake Italian places thinking they can fool people with ketchup in place of tomato sauce?! I was too tired and hungry to care though.

9:15: We checked in to the Royal Garden Hotel (not “royal” at all and no “garden” in sight!) and said our goodnights. I started peeling out of my clothes as I was locking the door and stood in the shower for 25 minutes.

9:45: It wasn’t until I was out of the shower that I realized the room was like an ice locker...so I spent about ten minutes searching for the controls. I had no luck and of course I was wide awake after the long shower, so I watched weird game shows and a mesmerizing documentary about people who have brains with “total recall”...I couldn’t turn it off!

12:00: The brain documentary ended and so did my energy- I plopped in to bed and reached above my head to turn off the room lights- happily discovering the air conditioning controls right next to them. The last thought I had was, “How could I have missed those earlier?!”.

FYI:
The next morning the newspapers told us that our train had hit an Inoshishi (ee-no-she-she) which is WILD BOAR in Japanese!
And, just in case you were wondering, my presentation went well. The other teacher and I absconded somewhat early from the conference to visit a winery and then a hot-spring, which advertised a wine-bath! It was heaven- just what I needed to relax and forget the crazy-busy previous day.

From the sweaty end of summer

Hello all...it has been far too long since I have written. Busy summer, as many of you know. It all started out on the 4th of July...I chaperoned 18 students to Lennoxville, Canada (two hours southeast of Montreal) for an English language camp. No- I take that back- it was an English language camp with a whole lot of French thrown in! Mon Dieu! Upon arrival we were treated to the hottest heat wave that part of Canada has ever experienced-- between 95 and 100 for the first week, and NO air conditioning! It wasn't as humid as Japan, but still it was miserable. Zut alor! (Alors? I scraped the bottom of the barrel for my high school French while talking with the French-only nurse at the camp...my head still hurts). The girls eventually figured out when English was being spoken and when their teachers switched to French. Only a few became homesick, so that was good.

My principal told me I could have some free time-- but of course still had to be available in case of an emergency-- in the middle of the month. So, I visited my friend Amy in New York. It was just wonderful--- Amy let me use her apartment, WITH AIR CONDITIONING-- and showed me some fantastic restaurants, etc. It was very important that she had air conditioning because New York was ALSO having a heat wave...worse than usual I was told. Still, I went to lots of museums, saw some very impressive views, cried at the 9/11 memorial (more exactly at the church right next to Ground Zero), visited with a former student, and in general got a very large dose of Americana, which I sorely needed. I traveled from Montreal to New York (and back) on the Adirondack line for a mere $62 each way. Having only ridden on the West coast version of Amtrak, I was VERY pleasantly surprised, and highly recommend this train to anyone who wants a break from flying in to New York. Granted, it did take nearly 11 hours...thanks to Homeland Security having to do an on-board check of passports, etc., but I just snapped photos and read my books until we were back on track.

I stayed the last few days of the camp with my students and escorted them back to Japan...it took 50 hours (!!) bed to bed because of the last-day Farewell Dance and the fact that we were scheduled to leave the school at 3:30 a.m.! The students didn't even get back to their dorms until 12:30. We had a loooong layover in Vancouver because our scheduled pilot was ill and it took them a while to find a replacement. Still- I am thankful that nobody was ill or got hurt on the trip. I had all of two nights in Japan before taking off for Seattle, and spent the second night with my friend Mary, from Ireland, and Kod, singing karaoke! It is something of a tradition for Mary and I...I think we sang every ABBA song ever written, plus a few other gems.

Visiting everyone at home was just what I needed. Unfortunately, all of the planes and trains and buses I had been on finally caught up with me: I caught a doozy of a cold that settled in my throat. I couldn't speak at all for three days and my throat is still weak! I have to give a presentation this coming Thursday in front of 60 people, so I am trying to rest my voice before then...

The worst part of the summer was that my brother-in-law passed away...we knew he was sick but hoped that he had longer to live. I am so glad my niece and nephew were there to support my sister. I just wish I could have stayed a little longer for the memorial which is this coming weekend.

At the moment I am sitting directly in front of a fan-- the only air-conditioner I have is upstairs-- feeling a little guilty for writing this blog when I should be working on my presentation...but it was about 102 degrees today and is still in the high 80's now, and still huuuuuuuumid. I am tired of every single surface I come in to contact with (including my own arms and legs) feeling slightly sticky. I hope it is more pleasant where you are. Wish me luck.

NYC

Hello All!
Just a moment to type before my time runs out on this hotel business center computer! I am in New York while my students try their best to survive in Canada using English without me! I'm sure they be fine...but still I worry! I will get back to blogging when I have a little more time. Send me your ideas for what to see and do while I am here in the City that never sleeps.

More Teacher Thanking and Me-he-HEM-RIES...

Maybe it is only because it is the first testing season of the year (there are five here in Japan, conveniently every two months or so), I don't know-- I just seem to be in a reminiscent mood about my own school days. So, I will continue my earlier writing where I thanked some of the teachers I had. Today I'll write about THE DARK AGES (more commonly known as "Junior High School"!). Oh, and before I go on, I DID remember that the dog which so kindly scarfed up my left overs in the 4th grade was named Cuddles! I have the feeling it was David Denny's dog that just sort of followed him to school one day though it was against the rules...Mrs. Duffy had more sympathy for that dog that us students!

Onward, ever onward. My introduction to "Canyon Park Junior High" began with one Donald Halazon. He was my homeroom teacher, my social studies teacher, my language arts teacher (I think), and later the man I T.A'ed for in 9th grade. Is T.A. a verb?! His first words to me were "Hansen?! Jennifer? Uh...are you by any chance related to Margaret and Amy?!" Labeled! The first day! Still, it turned out all right. He was essentially a very fair man who loved teaching. Loving his work did not stop him from making his favorite quote every other day though: "Do you know that teachers earn LESS than GARBAGE MEN?!" When he wasn't teaching or ranting, chances were you could find him imitating Donald Duck. He not only was head of the "Traffic Safety" club (?! We helped guide cars into parking spots for school events! I can't believe it but it was actually a cool club at the time!!), he introduced the people in that club to Greek food. He told us his name was actually Halazonetheopolis, or something close to that. He married a lovely woman who had a younger sister not much older than us. I thought at the time that she had enough hair for three people. I hope they are still happy and healthy together. Thank you, Mr. Halazon.

Other Junior High teachers: Mrs. Patricia Legget, who had great red hair, a constant smile, and knew how to teach math despite the near-perfect inattention of her charges. Priscilla Hickey (I SWEAR I am not making these names up!!), P.E. teach and gymnastics coach extraordinaire, all 4.5 feet of her! Barbara Brodniak, another P.E. teacher/coach who I have thanked many times for coaching me in basketball and "life" in general. We went to see the Sonics play at the Key Arena and that was my first professional sporting event of any kind. Mr. Estes, an English teacher and counselor that, by some magic, actually got through to a lot of junior high students. Mrs. Kunkle, the strict but elderly and forgetful English teacher who we fooled by putting an afro wig on Mike Battista and telling her a new "girl" called "Michelle" had joined the class. "Michelle" had her head down on her desk and started "crying"...causing Mrs. Kunkle to try to figure out how to deal with a crying new girl delicately. We got a TON of homework that day when she finally realized she had been had! It was worth it. Mrs. Peck, the art teacher, with thick black hair nearly down to her knees. Ms. Cohee, English/French/Drama/Dance teacher and cheer leading coach...energy to spare and sincere to the end. We loved her and were lucky enough to attend her beautiful wedding to Dennis. Oh! Mr. Ted Freemantle, who WAS as cool as his name sounds! He was like a modern-day Shakespeare, physically: tall, balding on top but longish black hair curling under on the sides and a beard and moustache too. He used to wear what can only be called "smocks" with V-necks and geometric designs on them. And his PENDANTS! He had a few- all large and all very hippy-cool. He would play Cat Stevens for us as we wrote. He was an English teacher. We wrote a lot and I can still sing all of the lyrics to most Cat Stevens songs!

Let's see....digging a little further in to the memories...who can forget Lwanga Lwanga! I didn't even HAVE him as a math teacher, but I had enough interactions with him (YOU! No run! WALK!) that I can never forget him. He was from somewhere in Africa, had a thick accent, an unsmiling face (most of the time), and a talent for scaring kids straight. He made my brother WALK home once to retrieve the math book he had forgotten. We lived 5 miles from the school! Ms. Wright, a cool art teacher. Mrs. Shoemeyer, a slightly ditsy home-ec teacher who had a co-hort called Ms. Heinzen. She taught us sewing, supposedly. A friend and I, inspired by an outfit she wore to school, gave her a prank call and sang "She wore BLUE VELVET!" to her at the tops of our lungs. I refuse to admit exactly how many times we did this. I don't think she ever suspected us because she took us to lunch at the Ranch Drive in at the end of the school year! Thank you, Junior High School Teachers, one and all. I know my list is not finished yet, but my energy is. For those of you tired of reading about these long ago memories, well, I will try to mix it up a little for a while.
P.S. The pic included in this post is an original drawing of yours truly from a friend in my local pub...I think it is a dead ringer!

The Sexy Chart

I found this poster in my local train station several months ago but have neglected to share it until now. When I took the photo I thought the girl at the bottom looked a little like the Japanese version of "Ugly Betty" (of TV fame). It is advertising an optical shop. If you can't read it very well, "Sexiness" is measured from bottom to top and "months" across the bottom. I recently got a pair of prescription sunglasses that are rectangular and gray. I don't know, but when I wear them I definitely feel like I am higher on the sexy chart! My own sexiness aside...if you look closely at the girl, you will notice that not only do her glasses change, but her expression does too. She seems to be smirking a little at her sexiest. She also seems to be wearing eye make-up at the top of the chart. The thing that really makes me laugh though, is that the sides of her nose and even her NOSTRILS seem to change shape, too! Now that is asking a LOT of a pair of glasses. I hope you are wearing your sexiest glasses...and if you don't wear glasses I suggest you run out and get some.

The Things I Fall For

The meaning of the term "shopping therapy" has changed for me: living in the States it was mostly just a way to spend time with friends and reward myself with something tangible for my real or perceived hard work. It was never empowering. Living in Japan, however, I have come to realize that shopping is one of the only arenas in my life where I don't have to rely upon anyone else. Not that it is my goal never to rely upon others, but being a foreigner in a place like Japan which is so vastly different culturally from my country means that my self-confidence can sometimes take a beating. There are infinite words to mispronounce or use incorrectly; there are cultural faux pas to avoid or to learn lessons about when they cannot be avoided (I have been given lessons on things like "how to peel an orange properly", "how to tie shoes", and even "how to hold your hands for a photo", amongst others); and there are people/situations you come across where just looking non-Japanese adds...stress. In short, the frequent state of being wrong, being perceived as "wrong" and/or not being perceived at all takes a toll on a person. Shopping is a nice antidote for this feeling. Maybe it's just less likely that store clerks will correct my glaring language mistakes or tell me the proper way to hold my bag when I have the money right in front of them, but I definitely get a sense of accomplishment when I leave a shop with a little bag and a feeling that I belong. The knowledge that anyone with money "belongs" in a shop never seems to dampen my spirits! Of course, sometimes this means I buy something that I later regret.

That was a very long introduction for telling you about the fun thing I just bought (and don't regret at all!). They are pictured and are called "eco nation" speakers, "for all pods". I use mine for my I-phone and Shuffle. If you haven't seen them before, they are sold in a flat box. You can get either brown or white and you use the six little pencils provided to draw your own design on them. I fell for them immediately. As you can see though, I haven't yet begun to decorate them...I am thinking of going the cover-with-pretty-paper route instead of the pencils (or go with the pencils first and THEN the pretty paper when it is clear to me that the pencil decoration looks too cheesy...), but either way, I'll update you with the finished product.

Happy Neighbors, Lady Gaga, and the Heat

Just a quick update tonight, as I still have a long to-do list before friends of friends visit tomorrow. New neighbors recently moved in. They seem young, and they laugh an awful lot...they also seem to be an international couple: I hear tidbits of English, Japanese, and something that may be Tagalog. Usually these tidbits come wafting across the two-foot gulf of space between my house and their apartment late in the evening. Oh, and usually the tidbits are in song form...I never heard anyone sing so much. I haven't actually seen them yet, as the entrance to their apartment is on the street behind mine, and we have vastly different schedules to boot. They live below the chanting woman. Every day between 7 and 9 a.m. she chants. It is always something I am compelled to listen to for a few moments every time I hear it. It is calming. It doesn't inspire ME to do it, but it is calming to hear someone else doing it! The new neighbors' singing, well, they only sang one song I recognized and that was Lady Gaga's Paparazzi. Lady G has not hit as big in Japan as other places yet, but she is making progress. I have to confess, I can't turn away when I see her on a screen. Maybe it is just so refreshing to see someone doing something other than tattoos and piercings...I don't know.

Summer is so close I can hear it breathing...today it gave us all a little preview by enveloping this area in humidity. Still, I shouldn't complain, as there is the rainy season to get through and it is approaching very quickly! I hope you are cool and dry wherever you are.

5:41 Update, a new Faux Pas, and two films

So, if you haven't read the previous post, "5:41", you should do so now...because here is the update: After two stretches of waking up at exactly 5:41 a.m. and then hearing the same time quoted on a podcast moments after waking up at that time, I went to school and told my tale to my friend, Colin. He laughed and said, "You should look it up on the Internet to see if it has any special meaning." I did, and here is what the first result (of "about 18,600,000" that Google took 26 seconds to report)said:

It is a verse from the bible: Mark, 5:41: He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!"). (!!!)

I nearly fell off the chair laughing! Though I would describe myself as more spiritual (it's about time to find a new word for that, I think) than religious, I decided to take the advice of yet another co-worker and be open to any divine messages that might be headed my way if I should wake up at that time again!

In other news...I thought I had just about broken every social rule and committed every faux pas there IS here in Japan, but today I managed to pull off yet another. I wore a blouse today that has two ties in the back, and at lunch time a woman in the staff room let me know that I was wearing my shirt "like a dead person." Allowing for my less-than-perfect Japanese and the often choppy language Japanese people sometimes use with me, I still had no idea what she was talking about. Finally, she spun me around, untied the ties, and re-tied them so they would be horizontal. She explained that only dead people wear ties that "stand up" vertically. Now I know. If that were the worst of my fashion worries I would be thrilled!
As in most places, there are lots of taboos here for the living associated with the dead: You shouldn't place your chopsticks "straight up" in rice because that is the way they are placed in the rice put on the family altar for ancestors; you shouldn't say the word "shi" (four) at times or give gifts which come in sets of four because one meaning of "shi" is "death"; dead people are dressed in white kimono but have a black border around their photo for the family altar, etc.

Just to end on a happy note, if you haven't seen the 1984 movie "The Funeral" (Ososhiki in Japanese)by Itami Juzo you will LOVE it. It is a very Japanese yet very universal farce. Another one you should see if you haven't already is the 2008 "Departures" (Okuribito in Japanese)by Yojiro Takita. It won an Oscar in 2009 for best foreign film and manages to be funny, sad, touching, educational and beautiful all at once.

5:41

It bothers me greatly when people say there is no such thing as "coincidence." Of course there is such a thing! This short post today is about a very strange one. Some of you know that I had been waking up at 5:41 - exactly - for several days in a row. Then it stopped, then it started again. One morning I deliberately did not look at the clock when I woke up to make sure it would NOT be 5:41, but when I looked at the clock, it was 5:41! I thought for sure it must be something outside waking me up, but none of the usual culprits (nesting pigeons, or one of the many motorcycles who drive the countryside here delivering local newspapers, milk, junk mail, etc.)were anywhere to be seen (heard). Well, I thought it was all finished but this morning I woke up at the magic time AGAIN. Shaking my head (well, kind of rolling my head back and forth on my pillows), I grabbed my I-phone to listen to a podcast while I tried to fall back to sleep. I often listen to A Prairie Home Companion but I had heard them all, so I chose something new (to me) called "Sarah and Vinnie Full Show." A woman came on and started joking about something with a man and replied to something with this line: ..."Yeah, like I would do that at (she paused as she glanced at her watch)5:41 in the morning!" I SAT STRAIGHT UP IN BED with my jaw HANGING open! What is going on?! I decided I had better listen to the entire podcast in case there was some message for me in it...there wasn't.

The only thing I can come up with to explain the weirdness of waking up at that time for so many days is that I must be thinking about my mother's birthday, 5/14, transposed to 5/41--->5:41.

There IS no explanation for the coincidence of hearing that same time on the podcast MOMENTS ater I really DID wake up at that time...is there? Enjoy your coincidences everyone, they ARE out there.

Japannequins!

Japannequins

By Jennifer A. Hansen

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If you haven't ordered your copy yet, do it now! It's a great book!

National Teachers' Day

May 4th is National Teachers' Day in the United States (and possibly elsewhere). No, I didn't know that either until I read the blurb from a Teachers' Calendar someone gave me. It said something snappy at the end like, "If you can read this, then thank a teacher!" After cringing at that old chestnut, I took it to heart. I decided that for my first blog post I would thank all of the elementary school teachers I can remember (it isn't that I don't feel grateful to later teachers...I simply think the earlier ones tend to get the short end of the memory stick, which is a shame). The odd, entertaining comment will be thrown in for those of you who are already rolling your eyes at the thought of reading a long list of people you probably don't know...

Pre-school: *This, in my large family, does not mean a colorful place you take toddlers in an effort to socialize/teach them like the stupendous Goddard schools of today...
(that's a plug for my friends Jim and Roni who have a stupendous school in Snohomish...check it out! http://www.goddardschool.com/Schools/Snohomish-WA/schools.gspx ).

For my family, "pre-school" just meant "home." Any education I received before going to Kindergarten happened at home. So, thanks to my very first (unpaid) teachers: Mom, Dad, and all of my sisters and brothers. Truly, I wouldn't be the same without you.

Crystal Springs Elementary School, Bothell, Washington:

Kindergarten: Mrs. Belknap (or Mrs. Seifert...I get Kindergarten and 1st Grade mixed up...). thanks for having Show and Tell and for wearing cat-eye glasses. I distinctly remember coveting a white dress you wore with tiny pink flowers all over it.

1st Grade: Mrs. Seifert (or Mrs. Belknap...see above). Thanks for looking the other way when we climbed the forbidden cherry tree in our "quad". Trees were my natural habitat at home, and that tree was a good transition for me.

2nd Grade: Mrs. Judith (?) Frymeyer (sp?). Thanks for being the Hippiest Hippy teacher I ever had. I remember your ponchos, your sandals, your enormous glasses, and your kindness when I lost a tooth (or five) in your class.

3rd Grade: Mrs. Diane King. Easily the tallest, coolest, most beautiful teacher on EARTH-- at least to my 3rd grade mind. Thanks for taking me to Seattle Center as pay-back for me having to miss a school field trip because of a dentist appointment. Thanks for having your class to your house for hot cocoa after Christmas caroling. Thanks for your pale pink lipstick and polyester suits--if anyone ever looked good in that era, you did. Thanks for not sending me to the Principal when I fought with Steve Manson. Thank you also, for keeping in touch with me for so many years after you moved away. Thank you for not laughing when I wrote about the "kegger" we had for my brother when he returned from Vietnam.

***Also 3rd Grade: Mrs. Hamasaki. We changed classes for music, and Mrs. Hamasaki could play the piano and sing soprano like no other, so it was off to her class we went. "Here Come the Brides" was on TV at the time, and she sported the same 'do that the character "Biddy" had: ringlets piled up behind a big poof of hair. Except Mrs. Hamasaki's hair was blond, very, very blond. Thank you, Mrs. Hamasaki, for your music and for bringing your Sumo-sized husband to one of our picnics. If he didn't do Sumo wrestling for a living, I can't imagine what he did do!

4th Grade: Mrs. Dorothy Duffy. From Heaven straight to the deepest pit of Hell...or so I thought, when I first read that name on my report card at the end of 3rd Grade. She looked to be over 100 years old, had a jet-black, helmet-shaped hair style which framed her overly-powdered face, and thin lips that were permanently pursed. She had rules galore, and made us keep a handkerchief, nail clippers, and a fingernail file in our desks at all times. She loved spelling, and made us kiss her on the cheek if we missed a word on our weekly test. We ALL learned to be very good spellers in Mrs. Duffy's class! Within months I was a very good student, and I do give her credit for shaping up my study habits and for showing me the power of books. The only thing I couldn't ever get used to in her class was her rule about "cleaning your plate" at lunch. I was a supremely picky eater as a child and missed many a recess because I could not pass her end-of-lunch inspection. She would glare at me with eyes that had seen the Great Depression, lecture me for a while, and watch while I guiltily gave my food scraps to "Ruffles," (Waddles? I forget...)the dog we allowed in to the classroom sometimes as a mascot. If she could see me eating sashimi today she would no doubt faint! Thank you for making me read aloud for a very long time (as punishment) from "Our Washington"...to this day, reading aloud helps me focus! Thank you for everything, Mrs. Duffy.

***Also 4th Grade: Mrs. Virginia Boyle, Reading teacher extraordinaire! Thank you for changing me from an avid reader in to a voracious one. Also, thanks for the Zot! candies you gave us. Thank you and rest in peace Miss Bligh (who became Mrs. difficult-name-I-couldn't-pronounce). You taught us music but gave us pure joy! I think you introduced us to every musical instrument ever made...and you could play them all! My nieces were also very lucky to have had you later in your career. The world is sadder without you. Thank you Ms. Judy Fawcett (sp?) for teaching us P.E., doing Square Dancing with a half-cast on your leg and for driving your bright yellow Porsche with the top down. You wore shorts and sunglasses almost every day (a difficult thing to pull off in Bothell, Washington!), and so were gloriously tan and healthy-looking. I say "looking" because even then I was wise to those lines around the mouth that mark smokers...I hope you gave them up!

5th Grade: Thank you Ms. Rosebaugh, for being my teacher all of two months or so. You were the first black teacher I had, the first woman who used "Ms." in front of her name, and the first one to make me think hard about what "race" meant when you asked us how many races of people there are in the world. Our dorky 5th grade minds guessed anywhere from 10 to 3 and I can still remember our brains absorbing your answer "ONE...the Human race." We loved you. We also loved the cool colored and patterned tights you wore with short skirts...you seemed so modern after Mrs. Duffy! Alas, the class was too big and they brought in another teacher, Miss Janie Krueger. I was already taller than her and had serious doubts about leaving Ms. Rosebaugh's class...but Miss Krueger was awesome! I remember laughing a lot in her class but still learning because we seemed to go to the library constantly. Thank you!

6th Grade: Mr. Victor Lawrence. This man was made to be a teacher. Thank you, Mr. Lawrence, for allowing us to build a sailboat in class (how many did you make over your career, I wonder?), for keeping the card game "Authors" on hand at lunch, and for never embarassing us in front of other students if (when) we did something wrong. You were one of my favorites. You also looked better without your toupee...

**Also 6th Grade: Mrs. Klose, the music teacher we were all prepared to dislike because HOW could you possibly be as good as Miss Bligh?! We envied the younger students who still had Miss Bligh but very soon were won over by Mrs. Klose's bright personality, slight over-bite, and a beautiful singing voice. Physically, she reminded me of Dear Abby-- at least the picture that was in the paper at that time. She had Dear Abby's hair-do: dark curly hair flipped up on one side. Thank you for letting me be your assistant and giving me the mini Raggedy-Andy playing cards. They are the original pack in my playing card collection (I'll bet some of you didn't even know I have such a collection...now aren't you glad you kept reading this?!).

***Also Elementary School: Mrs. Marilyn Cook, Librarian. Thank you for many years of service-- whenever I hear/see "Charlotte's Web" I think of you. Thank you also for creating a reading club where we got to read new books before the other students. Thank you, Mr. Victor Ohls, our Principal, who used to judge and give out awards for our hand-writing samples. Thank you for your wisdom in discipline matters (he had a paddle hanging on his wall but never used it on me...even when I broke the glass door to the auditorium...it was an accident!). Thank you, too, for allowing "Movie Nights" and popcorn in the gym. Many of us had families who didn't often have money for real theaters. Thank you for carting us home in your sea-foam green station wagon when winters were bad and buses couldn't make it up and down hills. Thank you for having your wife, Dolores, substitute when teachers were away. She made us smile.

I was a lucky girl to have had you all in my life. Thank you for becoming educators. I can only hope that I am giving my students a fraction of all that you gave me.