When a character walks into a scene, he has a certain set of expectations and goals in mind. Preventing the character from achieving his objectives are obstacles, which can either be physical or figurative in nature. When these obstacles are met, the character proceeds to take actions to overcome those challenges. Whether the character is successful or not, there is an outcome that progresses the story.
I came to Japan with a completely different impression of what the teaching experience would be like. Up until this last Thursday, everything had been going swimmingly. My lessons were timely, the kids were paying attention, everyone was laughing and drinking champagne (metaphorically). And then last Friday rolled around. What a hellish day.
Things started as usual in my first period. Ran the lesson, played some games. Good kids. Second period is where it went down hill. Ten minutes in, there was a fight. Two boys crying, and the rest of the class erupting into hoots and hollers because of that. The assistant and I tried to get the class under control, and eventually we did, but it was one long uphill battle.
That period couldn't have ended sooner. Third period: The exact same thing! Another fight, one boy crying, another girl crying because the picture she was drawing for the lesson wasn't working out. The class erupted once again, and once more I struck up a hike to reach the top of that ever-so-tall and looming hill known as authority.
Third period over. On to the fourth. And guess what? More chaos! No fights this time, luckily. Instead, two observers from the board of education showed up for a random check-in. They arrived right in the middle of the class's worst and most disruptive moment. Things were a complete disaster, and the observers left several minutes into the volcano's eruption -- just enough time to see panic breaking out into the city. I can only imagine the words they chose for their reports.
The most difficult part about my whole situation is that I am not allowed to discipline. I am not allowed to raise my voice. I am there to teach English, and nothing more. The regular teacher or teaching assistant is the one who is supposed to get a hold on the students when they start getting rowdy. My particular assistant that day was not so assisting, so I was practically stuck to myself trying to herd thirty children into a cooperative mood by using sugary "please's" and stern parent-like looks of disapproval.
I've never been in a position like that before. I've never been in the middle of a sea of demon-like obstacles, each so great that to tackle even one would be to tackle one more than I can currently manage.
My experience with children is low. True, I was a child once; for 13 years I probably made somebody else's life as crazy as mine was last Friday, so I am at least knowledgeable of the matter in that regard. But experience in actually overseeing the well-being of a single child (or thirty at a time, in my case) is quite new to me. I am stuck between trying to be a friend of the students, and trying to be their teacher. So far I have found it near impossible to try and be both.
I will need to try harder.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Settling In
I think its safe to assume that the settling in stage of a long-term trip occurs when you begin to read a book for your own personal leisure. Tonight is that night for me. I got home early from a fun day at school, watched a show, had a big dinner, even had time to write this, and after I finish here I'm going to read.
Unfortunately, I don't feel as though the community has settled with me yet. Every day just walking around I get long stares. People avoid sitting by me on the trains and in waiting rooms. Bystanders stop what they're saying as I pass; the air fills with suspicion whenever I am near. Not even the street callers handing out flyers and other advertisements will approach me. It's as if I'm... a foreigner.
Odd to be a foreigner. I'm not offended by other's reactions to me, and it's not like the subtle changes in behavior are entirely unexpected -- no one's ever rude to me, they just clearly view me differently. I suppose I walk around naturally assuming that everyone will greet me warmly with a kind handshake and a shout of "Good morning red-haired person!" or something close to that. I am quite a sore thumb with my different colored hair and skin and all that. Millions of them, and only one me.
When I'm at the schools its a different story. There I am "Eigo-sensei" (English Teacher). A sensei. Me! I certainly don't act like a sensei. During class I'm a bit of a clown in front of the students. At recess I run out to join the kids, and they all chase me around, or I chase them, or we play dodgeball. They perform kancho on me! Which, while being quite the discomforting prank, is still some sign of acceptance. "We like you enough to make fun of you," is what it is. They've even started to practice their English with me outside of class, which is a great step forward.
I'm not a sensei, even if they call me one. I learn too much from the students to accept that title; they are constantly teaching me new Japanese words, showing me new games, telling me about the food, the culture, and guiding me around school. I'm more of a hired friend, which I don't mind. The only thing I dredge is the minute I have to head home. Gonna be a lot of heartbreak that day.
Unfortunately, I don't feel as though the community has settled with me yet. Every day just walking around I get long stares. People avoid sitting by me on the trains and in waiting rooms. Bystanders stop what they're saying as I pass; the air fills with suspicion whenever I am near. Not even the street callers handing out flyers and other advertisements will approach me. It's as if I'm... a foreigner.
Odd to be a foreigner. I'm not offended by other's reactions to me, and it's not like the subtle changes in behavior are entirely unexpected -- no one's ever rude to me, they just clearly view me differently. I suppose I walk around naturally assuming that everyone will greet me warmly with a kind handshake and a shout of "Good morning red-haired person!" or something close to that. I am quite a sore thumb with my different colored hair and skin and all that. Millions of them, and only one me.
When I'm at the schools its a different story. There I am "Eigo-sensei" (English Teacher). A sensei. Me! I certainly don't act like a sensei. During class I'm a bit of a clown in front of the students. At recess I run out to join the kids, and they all chase me around, or I chase them, or we play dodgeball. They perform kancho on me! Which, while being quite the discomforting prank, is still some sign of acceptance. "We like you enough to make fun of you," is what it is. They've even started to practice their English with me outside of class, which is a great step forward.
I'm not a sensei, even if they call me one. I learn too much from the students to accept that title; they are constantly teaching me new Japanese words, showing me new games, telling me about the food, the culture, and guiding me around school. I'm more of a hired friend, which I don't mind. The only thing I dredge is the minute I have to head home. Gonna be a lot of heartbreak that day.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Big Question
"How's Japan?"
Well, it's different, obviously. I can't address every little difference, but for one, we use yen here instead of dollars, and because about 90 yen equals 1 dollar, you feel more wealthy than you actually are -- I currently have about 9,000 yen in my wallet. If that were dollars, I'd be golden.
One thing I'm impressed with about Japan is that it is surprisingly clean. For having almost half the population of the United States (127 million) crammed into an area the size of California, I would have thought litter and random garbage here to be comparable to that of the streets of New York (sorry New York). Not so. The streets, sidewalks and train stations here are incredibly spotless. The only real litter is cigarette butts, but even that is minimal. Here we see a bit of Japan's group mentality settling in; If one person makes a mess, it becomes a mess for others. Everyone carries their garbage with them, stuffing it into their pockets until they get home where it can be properly recycled. As a result, there are very few public garbage cans in Japan.
Virtually all of the Japanese that I've seen are thin. Very few obese people here, which may be a factor of the mostly fish, noodles and rice diet. Speaking of appearances, everyone is well-dressed. The Japanese women, in particular, have a bit of modesty concerning what they wear; no low-scooping v-necks, no spaghetti straps, no piercings. Skirts and tight shorts do make the occasional appearance, so seeing a bit of leg here and there is common, but for the most part the attire is tasteful.
There aren't many bugs. May just be the season, maybe it'll get worse as the summer progresses, but for these past two weeks, the only bugs I've seen have been ants and one dragonfly. Oh, and there was one really strange flying red bug that attacked me, 'bout the size of my eye. It may have been after my brains.
Water in Japan does not have fluoride in it. I can't taste the difference, but it's odd to think that it's not there -- like I'm missing out on something. Food is a discussion all in itself. It's hard to find the little things that we're used to in the states. For example, I spent half an hour searching for spaghetti sauce, until I finally asked someone and they told me that it comes in a bag -- I had been looking for a glass jar. Peanut butter was a little tricky, too, because they don't call it peanut butter. It's called peanut cream, and it resembles a thin paste rather than something thick and made of actual peanuts (tastes the same, though). The amount of food you get for a particular purchase is about half of what you'd get at some Wal-Mart or ShopKo, and it costs twice as much. At least the rice is cheap.
Above all, Japan feels safe. Despite its oddities, it has an overwhelming feeling of security, as if you could walk down any dark alley at any time of night and emerge on the opposite end unharmed, with a new friend or two met along the way. I get the sense that I could leave the front door to my apartment wide open for a month and not be robbed. Not sure if I'll give that a try just yet, but I'd stake money on a positive outcome.
Finally, there's TV. I got to watch some of Die Hard and Star Wars Episode One in Japanese, as well as the new Willy Wonka. That kind of programming is a bit rare, though. Most of the television shows I've seen typically involve a panel of about 5 to 10 people who all give reactions and comments about something happening on screen, which is kind of odd to watch -- it gives a slight feeling as if you're watching TV with someone else in the room. Some of the kids programming is a little wacky. Soap operas and dramas are mostly similar. And there's sumo! Sumo's fun to watch, but it ends quickly so you have to pay attention.
Some things have been a little challenging to adapt to, but on the whole I think the Japanese do a lot of things right. I like Japan! And that's just how it is.
Well, it's different, obviously. I can't address every little difference, but for one, we use yen here instead of dollars, and because about 90 yen equals 1 dollar, you feel more wealthy than you actually are -- I currently have about 9,000 yen in my wallet. If that were dollars, I'd be golden.
One thing I'm impressed with about Japan is that it is surprisingly clean. For having almost half the population of the United States (127 million) crammed into an area the size of California, I would have thought litter and random garbage here to be comparable to that of the streets of New York (sorry New York). Not so. The streets, sidewalks and train stations here are incredibly spotless. The only real litter is cigarette butts, but even that is minimal. Here we see a bit of Japan's group mentality settling in; If one person makes a mess, it becomes a mess for others. Everyone carries their garbage with them, stuffing it into their pockets until they get home where it can be properly recycled. As a result, there are very few public garbage cans in Japan.
Virtually all of the Japanese that I've seen are thin. Very few obese people here, which may be a factor of the mostly fish, noodles and rice diet. Speaking of appearances, everyone is well-dressed. The Japanese women, in particular, have a bit of modesty concerning what they wear; no low-scooping v-necks, no spaghetti straps, no piercings. Skirts and tight shorts do make the occasional appearance, so seeing a bit of leg here and there is common, but for the most part the attire is tasteful.
There aren't many bugs. May just be the season, maybe it'll get worse as the summer progresses, but for these past two weeks, the only bugs I've seen have been ants and one dragonfly. Oh, and there was one really strange flying red bug that attacked me, 'bout the size of my eye. It may have been after my brains.
Water in Japan does not have fluoride in it. I can't taste the difference, but it's odd to think that it's not there -- like I'm missing out on something. Food is a discussion all in itself. It's hard to find the little things that we're used to in the states. For example, I spent half an hour searching for spaghetti sauce, until I finally asked someone and they told me that it comes in a bag -- I had been looking for a glass jar. Peanut butter was a little tricky, too, because they don't call it peanut butter. It's called peanut cream, and it resembles a thin paste rather than something thick and made of actual peanuts (tastes the same, though). The amount of food you get for a particular purchase is about half of what you'd get at some Wal-Mart or ShopKo, and it costs twice as much. At least the rice is cheap.
Above all, Japan feels safe. Despite its oddities, it has an overwhelming feeling of security, as if you could walk down any dark alley at any time of night and emerge on the opposite end unharmed, with a new friend or two met along the way. I get the sense that I could leave the front door to my apartment wide open for a month and not be robbed. Not sure if I'll give that a try just yet, but I'd stake money on a positive outcome.
Finally, there's TV. I got to watch some of Die Hard and Star Wars Episode One in Japanese, as well as the new Willy Wonka. That kind of programming is a bit rare, though. Most of the television shows I've seen typically involve a panel of about 5 to 10 people who all give reactions and comments about something happening on screen, which is kind of odd to watch -- it gives a slight feeling as if you're watching TV with someone else in the room. Some of the kids programming is a little wacky. Soap operas and dramas are mostly similar. And there's sumo! Sumo's fun to watch, but it ends quickly so you have to pay attention.
Some things have been a little challenging to adapt to, but on the whole I think the Japanese do a lot of things right. I like Japan! And that's just how it is.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Friends, Fish, and Fighting
Last weekend I went and visited an Aikido friend of mine who recently moved his family from Salt Lake City back to Japan. I happened to be placed in a part of Tokyo that was close to his home, so he invited me over for a meal. I later went to the local playground with the kids and we monkeyed around for a while.
After I got back from visiting my friend, I took a few shots of my current hometown, Musashi-Yamato. Also visited the grocer.
This weekend was the annual All-Japanese Aikido Exhibition. The current head of the Aikikai foundation was there to give a demonstration at the end of the five hour event. Here are some photos and videos of the masters at work:
This is a video of Tada Sensei, who is the second-highest ranked member of Aikido:
Finally, the Doushu (head of Aikido) himself:
After I got back from visiting my friend, I took a few shots of my current hometown, Musashi-Yamato. Also visited the grocer.
This weekend was the annual All-Japanese Aikido Exhibition. The current head of the Aikikai foundation was there to give a demonstration at the end of the five hour event. Here are some photos and videos of the masters at work:
This is a video of Tada Sensei, who is the second-highest ranked member of Aikido:
Finally, the Doushu (head of Aikido) himself:
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A Complete Guide to Riding Trains in Japan
The Route
You know where you want to go, but not how to get there. Trains in Japan are a little mangled and complicated, so if you attempt to find your way blindly to wherever you're going you will likely get lost. A great resource for planning your route is a little site called Hyperdia. Put in your start and end station, and the site does the rest, providing you with transfer points, ticket prices, maps, the works -- Never travel Japan without Hyperdia. Getting to your initial station from whatever hotel or residence you're at is up to your own navigation skills, but generally you can spot a small blue train sign hanging on a street corner or tucked away down a noisy alleyway. Some of them can be hard to find.
The Gate
The starting station is set, and you know your transfer points. Once you reach your first station, a series of signs will guide you to the correct gate. There may be a lot of signs, and you may have to walk as much as 500 meters even once you're in the terminal, but if you stay true to the signs (most of them will have both Japanese and English written on them), you will reach your gate safely. All gates are color-coded, too, so you can use that as an extra guide to your destination.
The Ticket
Within about 20 meters of any gate there will be a series of ticket booths embedded in the walls. Most of the ticket machines will have optional English instructions. If not, look for a button on the left side that indicates one person (usually illustrated by a human silhouette). The screen will fill with a set of numbers, indicating ticket prices (in yen) for you to choose between. The amount you will need to pay for your ticket will depend on how many stations you're traveling between. Look just above the ticket booths (or very nearby overhead) and you'll see some maps of the railway lines. The station you're at will be marked in yellow, and beside each station will be its name and a number (these are ticket prices). Not all of these maps will have English translations, so likely you'll be looking at a bunch of kanji. If you can read the kanji, or if you have English titles for the stations at your particular map, or if you happen to know what kanji you're looking for, you can locate your station right away and purchase a ticket matching the number indicated on the map. If you don't meet any of that criteria, your mission will be a little bit harder once you get through the gate. In those situations, purchase the least expensive ticket; with that you can at least get through the gate, and then once you're at your destination station you can have the fare of your ticket adjusted to pay the difference.
The Ticket Gate Thing
After you've bought you're ticket, you'll have to pass through a little security gate thing that will scan your ticket. Your ticket needs to be inserted into a little slot on the right-hand side (where the arrows are pointing); the ticket can be face up or face down, forward or backwards, doesn't matter. The machine will take your ticket, scan it, and then spit it back out on the opposite end. It's important that you pick up your ticket on the opposite end and take it with you when passing through the gate, since you will need it to get out at your destination station.
Sometimes the gate will beep at you. When this happens, some small doors will close in front of you, a red stop sign will show on the ticket gate, and a kind, automated Japanese woman's voice will tell you (in Japanese) that there is a problem with your ticket. This could mean that you bought the wrong ticket for the wrong train, or you put in the wrong ticket (you may end up with one or two in your pocket after some traveling), or a number of other small things. In any event, a station guard will typically rush over to you to check on the problem. Meanwhile, a horde of Japanese people behind you will give you crummy looks for stalling them by locking up that ticket gate with your mistake. If a station guard doesn't come to you, you will need to go to him; there will be a booth at one of the ends of the ticket gates; a kind Japanese man will be standing there wearing a mask. Go to the Japanese man, give him your ticket, and he will fix your problem by saying "Wrong ticket," or "Wrong station." At which point you will need to produce the correct ticket, or relocate to your correct station.
The Platform
Through the gate. Yes! On to the platform... But which one? Once through the gate, there will be additional signs indicating as many as six (or more) platforms that you can go to. Your train is at one of them. Here again, signs will guide you, and most will have English translations. However, the problem with the platform signs is that they will not list all the stations that a particular train at a particular platform will visit. The signs will only list major stops, as well as the final stop on that train's route. For instance, I may be at Station D, looking to go to Station G. The platform sign might list Station E, M, and finally Z (the end station), but not D or G. That train is heading in the correct direction, but because it doesn't list the particular station you're going to, it can be easy to wind up waiting on the wrong platform. The easiest way I've found to beat this obstacle is to know the last stop on the train you're looking to board. If you're at Station D and heading on down the alphabet, know what Station Z is, because Station Z will _always_ be on the platform signs (that will also be the name on the train itself). If you can find the sign listing that station -- check the maps back at the ticket booths -- then you should have no problems finding your platform.
The Lines at the Platform
On the platform, you will see everyone lining up at about 10 meter intervals along the platform, or, if there's no one there, you can start your own line! At crowded stations, everyone will form paired lines, like good little animals boarding the Arc. Pick whichever line you like. Shorter lines are, of course, better, since they give better odds of getting a seat on the train (see below). Be watchful of the digital displays hanging above the platform, because they will indicate which train is arriving at what time -- multiple trains for different destinations can arrive at any one platform depending on the station, so be careful not to get on the wrong train (even though you're at the right platform).
When the train pulls in, the lines will move up to the train's doors, but the paired lines will split so that the lines are standing just to the sides of each door. This is to allow those already on the train to get off and pass easily through. Once everyone has disembarked, the lines will file in, the doors will shut, and you'll be on your way.
The Standing/Sitting Game
Some train rides might take a while. Could be 30 minutes to your destination, maybe an hour, or two. If you've a long ride ahead of you, you will definitely want to get a seat. Trouble is, all the millions of Japanese commuters want a seat, too, because it really, really sucks to have to stand in a crowded space for that long. And it will get crowded! The picture above in the previous section is no exaggeration; many times, the platform patrons will help to shove people onto the trains, pushing and jamming everyone in to the point where your face is in someone's back, someone's bag is jabbing into your side, and somehow a small child is sitting on your head. It happens! A lot of this trouble, though, can be avoided with a comfortable seat.
First trick to getting a seat is to be early. At a busy station, be 20 minutes early, minimum, for your train, and wait in the lines so that you can be near the front when your train arrives. Second trick is to get in lines as far down the platform as you can go; less people walk all that way down there, so the lines will be shorter and there will be less people in the cars (be careful you don't go too far, though, if you're a guy; the front three or so cars of a train are sometimes for women only). Third, get in a line with business men. Business men are hesitant to take a seat. Women, children, and the elderly are not. You will get pushed out of the way for a seat if you are not fast enough. Fourth, travel as lightly as you can. The more things you have on you, the harder it is for you to swim through the crowds to get your seat.
In the unfortunate event that you don't get a seat, you will have to stand. For short trips, the best places to stand are near the doors so you can quickly get off. For longer trips, you will want to stand in the aisle in front of the seats for a possible chance at getting a seat a few stops later along the way. Avoid standing in front of students and other sleepers; you will see these folks nodding off, leaning forward, eyes closed. These people are on the train for the long haul and will not be giving up their seat anytime soon. If you can, stand in front of someone wearing headphones. These people have headphones to stay awake, and will commonly get off one or two stops later. Standing in front of someone who looks awake and alert (and _not_ reading a book or newspaper) is also a decent bet, as they are being watchful for their upcoming station. Despite these tricks, a seat is never guaranteed. Be prepared to stand for long periods of time. Bring water.
The Ride
While on the train, it is respectful to take up as little space as possible. Try to keep your bag and any possessions in front of you, or, even better, put your things on the racks above the seats. If you're sitting, keep your things on your lap. Also while riding, don't eat any food, and only drink if you must -- this is another show of respect for keeping the always-busy trains clean and safe for everyone to use. If you're standing, stand facing flat towards the windows; if you're standing perpendicular to the windows, you're making it more difficult for others to move past you.
The Exit
When exiting the train, move quickly. There is always someone behind you at a train station, so if you stop or go slow, everyone behind you will have to do the same. Watch for the exit signs. If you know your exit, great. If not, it's no big problem; there are always lots of exits, and all exits will lead either into the same terminal or to roughly the same street corner. Pick one, and go!
Before the exiting process is complete, you will have to pass through the ticket gate things one more time. Insert your ticket, and this time the machine will keep your ticket and you can continue on your way. Here again, the machine might beep at you, usually for not having paid the correct fare. If that happens, you can either go to a station manager and he'll help you fix it, or there are convenient fare adjustment machines which will allow you to make the correction yourself. These machines almost always have an English button for translations. Follow the directions, exchange your ticket, and you're out.
And that's how you travel from one station to another! Now do that six times a week, round trip, and you'll know what I'm going through. Oh, and get a Suica card. :)
You know where you want to go, but not how to get there. Trains in Japan are a little mangled and complicated, so if you attempt to find your way blindly to wherever you're going you will likely get lost. A great resource for planning your route is a little site called Hyperdia. Put in your start and end station, and the site does the rest, providing you with transfer points, ticket prices, maps, the works -- Never travel Japan without Hyperdia. Getting to your initial station from whatever hotel or residence you're at is up to your own navigation skills, but generally you can spot a small blue train sign hanging on a street corner or tucked away down a noisy alleyway. Some of them can be hard to find.
The Gate
The starting station is set, and you know your transfer points. Once you reach your first station, a series of signs will guide you to the correct gate. There may be a lot of signs, and you may have to walk as much as 500 meters even once you're in the terminal, but if you stay true to the signs (most of them will have both Japanese and English written on them), you will reach your gate safely. All gates are color-coded, too, so you can use that as an extra guide to your destination.
The Ticket
Within about 20 meters of any gate there will be a series of ticket booths embedded in the walls. Most of the ticket machines will have optional English instructions. If not, look for a button on the left side that indicates one person (usually illustrated by a human silhouette). The screen will fill with a set of numbers, indicating ticket prices (in yen) for you to choose between. The amount you will need to pay for your ticket will depend on how many stations you're traveling between. Look just above the ticket booths (or very nearby overhead) and you'll see some maps of the railway lines. The station you're at will be marked in yellow, and beside each station will be its name and a number (these are ticket prices). Not all of these maps will have English translations, so likely you'll be looking at a bunch of kanji. If you can read the kanji, or if you have English titles for the stations at your particular map, or if you happen to know what kanji you're looking for, you can locate your station right away and purchase a ticket matching the number indicated on the map. If you don't meet any of that criteria, your mission will be a little bit harder once you get through the gate. In those situations, purchase the least expensive ticket; with that you can at least get through the gate, and then once you're at your destination station you can have the fare of your ticket adjusted to pay the difference.
The Ticket Gate Thing
After you've bought you're ticket, you'll have to pass through a little security gate thing that will scan your ticket. Your ticket needs to be inserted into a little slot on the right-hand side (where the arrows are pointing); the ticket can be face up or face down, forward or backwards, doesn't matter. The machine will take your ticket, scan it, and then spit it back out on the opposite end. It's important that you pick up your ticket on the opposite end and take it with you when passing through the gate, since you will need it to get out at your destination station.
Sometimes the gate will beep at you. When this happens, some small doors will close in front of you, a red stop sign will show on the ticket gate, and a kind, automated Japanese woman's voice will tell you (in Japanese) that there is a problem with your ticket. This could mean that you bought the wrong ticket for the wrong train, or you put in the wrong ticket (you may end up with one or two in your pocket after some traveling), or a number of other small things. In any event, a station guard will typically rush over to you to check on the problem. Meanwhile, a horde of Japanese people behind you will give you crummy looks for stalling them by locking up that ticket gate with your mistake. If a station guard doesn't come to you, you will need to go to him; there will be a booth at one of the ends of the ticket gates; a kind Japanese man will be standing there wearing a mask. Go to the Japanese man, give him your ticket, and he will fix your problem by saying "Wrong ticket," or "Wrong station." At which point you will need to produce the correct ticket, or relocate to your correct station.
The Platform
Through the gate. Yes! On to the platform... But which one? Once through the gate, there will be additional signs indicating as many as six (or more) platforms that you can go to. Your train is at one of them. Here again, signs will guide you, and most will have English translations. However, the problem with the platform signs is that they will not list all the stations that a particular train at a particular platform will visit. The signs will only list major stops, as well as the final stop on that train's route. For instance, I may be at Station D, looking to go to Station G. The platform sign might list Station E, M, and finally Z (the end station), but not D or G. That train is heading in the correct direction, but because it doesn't list the particular station you're going to, it can be easy to wind up waiting on the wrong platform. The easiest way I've found to beat this obstacle is to know the last stop on the train you're looking to board. If you're at Station D and heading on down the alphabet, know what Station Z is, because Station Z will _always_ be on the platform signs (that will also be the name on the train itself). If you can find the sign listing that station -- check the maps back at the ticket booths -- then you should have no problems finding your platform.
The Lines at the Platform
On the platform, you will see everyone lining up at about 10 meter intervals along the platform, or, if there's no one there, you can start your own line! At crowded stations, everyone will form paired lines, like good little animals boarding the Arc. Pick whichever line you like. Shorter lines are, of course, better, since they give better odds of getting a seat on the train (see below). Be watchful of the digital displays hanging above the platform, because they will indicate which train is arriving at what time -- multiple trains for different destinations can arrive at any one platform depending on the station, so be careful not to get on the wrong train (even though you're at the right platform).
When the train pulls in, the lines will move up to the train's doors, but the paired lines will split so that the lines are standing just to the sides of each door. This is to allow those already on the train to get off and pass easily through. Once everyone has disembarked, the lines will file in, the doors will shut, and you'll be on your way.
The Standing/Sitting Game
Some train rides might take a while. Could be 30 minutes to your destination, maybe an hour, or two. If you've a long ride ahead of you, you will definitely want to get a seat. Trouble is, all the millions of Japanese commuters want a seat, too, because it really, really sucks to have to stand in a crowded space for that long. And it will get crowded! The picture above in the previous section is no exaggeration; many times, the platform patrons will help to shove people onto the trains, pushing and jamming everyone in to the point where your face is in someone's back, someone's bag is jabbing into your side, and somehow a small child is sitting on your head. It happens! A lot of this trouble, though, can be avoided with a comfortable seat.
First trick to getting a seat is to be early. At a busy station, be 20 minutes early, minimum, for your train, and wait in the lines so that you can be near the front when your train arrives. Second trick is to get in lines as far down the platform as you can go; less people walk all that way down there, so the lines will be shorter and there will be less people in the cars (be careful you don't go too far, though, if you're a guy; the front three or so cars of a train are sometimes for women only). Third, get in a line with business men. Business men are hesitant to take a seat. Women, children, and the elderly are not. You will get pushed out of the way for a seat if you are not fast enough. Fourth, travel as lightly as you can. The more things you have on you, the harder it is for you to swim through the crowds to get your seat.
In the unfortunate event that you don't get a seat, you will have to stand. For short trips, the best places to stand are near the doors so you can quickly get off. For longer trips, you will want to stand in the aisle in front of the seats for a possible chance at getting a seat a few stops later along the way. Avoid standing in front of students and other sleepers; you will see these folks nodding off, leaning forward, eyes closed. These people are on the train for the long haul and will not be giving up their seat anytime soon. If you can, stand in front of someone wearing headphones. These people have headphones to stay awake, and will commonly get off one or two stops later. Standing in front of someone who looks awake and alert (and _not_ reading a book or newspaper) is also a decent bet, as they are being watchful for their upcoming station. Despite these tricks, a seat is never guaranteed. Be prepared to stand for long periods of time. Bring water.
The Ride
While on the train, it is respectful to take up as little space as possible. Try to keep your bag and any possessions in front of you, or, even better, put your things on the racks above the seats. If you're sitting, keep your things on your lap. Also while riding, don't eat any food, and only drink if you must -- this is another show of respect for keeping the always-busy trains clean and safe for everyone to use. If you're standing, stand facing flat towards the windows; if you're standing perpendicular to the windows, you're making it more difficult for others to move past you.
The Exit
When exiting the train, move quickly. There is always someone behind you at a train station, so if you stop or go slow, everyone behind you will have to do the same. Watch for the exit signs. If you know your exit, great. If not, it's no big problem; there are always lots of exits, and all exits will lead either into the same terminal or to roughly the same street corner. Pick one, and go!
Before the exiting process is complete, you will have to pass through the ticket gate things one more time. Insert your ticket, and this time the machine will keep your ticket and you can continue on your way. Here again, the machine might beep at you, usually for not having paid the correct fare. If that happens, you can either go to a station manager and he'll help you fix it, or there are convenient fare adjustment machines which will allow you to make the correction yourself. These machines almost always have an English button for translations. Follow the directions, exchange your ticket, and you're out.
And that's how you travel from one station to another! Now do that six times a week, round trip, and you'll know what I'm going through. Oh, and get a Suica card. :)
Friday, May 14, 2010
A Week at an End
First and foremost, I've been in training. Eight to ten hours a day, working over the weekend as well as on Monday and Tuesday, which made this week extra-extra long. I can't really talk about the training itself because of contractual agreements, but it was fun and difficult. Learned a lot about teaching kids and about the Japanese school system. Interesting stuff. Here are some pictures of Iidabashi, where I've been training:
I got moved to a new place. It's a cozy little apartment. Has character.
Went and got a health check. This involved walking between a set of numbered rooms, where I did a urine sample, chest x-ray, electrocardiogram, blood sample, weight and height check, and blood pressure. I learned how to say, "Take off your shirt," in Japanese. :)
I started teaching on Wednesday. My first school was a junior high, where I taught 7th, 8th, and 9th grade students. The kids there spoke a decent amount of English, so they were easy to communicate with. I had a little trouble connecting with them (they had that "I'm tired and don't won't to be at school today" kind of air about them), but the day got better as things progressed. Thursday and Friday I was at two elementary schools with 3rd, 5th, and 6th graders, and I had a lot of fun with the kids there. They got a kick out of my reenactments of various sporting activities. Also played dodgeball with them, in my nice suit.
Been riding a lot of trains, which have caused me some degree of distress. I've fallen into every beginner pitfall, including boarding the wrong train, getting on a train going in the wrong direction, paying too little or too much for a train ticket, buying the wrong ticket altogether, boarding a "local" train instead of the faster "express" train, and, of course, getting off at the wrong stop. The trains really are one giant maze. I'm glad I got offtrack, though, because it's allowed me to explore the stations and the area around the stations.
Speaking of exploring, I found a small shrine the other day. I'm not sure if the shrine is devoted to anything, and I didn't catch the name, but here's a look:
It's finally the weekend. Finally getting some rest. I'm going to take a stroll around my new hometown today, which is called Musashi-Yamato, and will post some pictures of that as I get them. See you then.
I got moved to a new place. It's a cozy little apartment. Has character.
Went and got a health check. This involved walking between a set of numbered rooms, where I did a urine sample, chest x-ray, electrocardiogram, blood sample, weight and height check, and blood pressure. I learned how to say, "Take off your shirt," in Japanese. :)
I started teaching on Wednesday. My first school was a junior high, where I taught 7th, 8th, and 9th grade students. The kids there spoke a decent amount of English, so they were easy to communicate with. I had a little trouble connecting with them (they had that "I'm tired and don't won't to be at school today" kind of air about them), but the day got better as things progressed. Thursday and Friday I was at two elementary schools with 3rd, 5th, and 6th graders, and I had a lot of fun with the kids there. They got a kick out of my reenactments of various sporting activities. Also played dodgeball with them, in my nice suit.
Been riding a lot of trains, which have caused me some degree of distress. I've fallen into every beginner pitfall, including boarding the wrong train, getting on a train going in the wrong direction, paying too little or too much for a train ticket, buying the wrong ticket altogether, boarding a "local" train instead of the faster "express" train, and, of course, getting off at the wrong stop. The trains really are one giant maze. I'm glad I got offtrack, though, because it's allowed me to explore the stations and the area around the stations.
Speaking of exploring, I found a small shrine the other day. I'm not sure if the shrine is devoted to anything, and I didn't catch the name, but here's a look:
It's finally the weekend. Finally getting some rest. I'm going to take a stroll around my new hometown today, which is called Musashi-Yamato, and will post some pictures of that as I get them. See you then.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Akihabara
Today was the first day of my training. We went over some policy guidelines, what to expect in a Japanese classroom, what to do and what not to do when at school and when meeting the principal (there are a lot of subtle points of social etiquette that a foreigner like myself could have missed), and so on. That took most of the day, but I had some free time afterward to visit Akihabara, the "Electric Town."
Akihabara is a dangerous place for those with spending habits. You could easily stop into one of the many stores there and drop about $80 in a quick purchase. There are simply way too many fun-looking toys to buy and signs to see. It's like being a kid again. Here's one minute of Akihabara:
For your additional enjoyment, here's a taste of a Japanese subway:
(click the slideshow for larger images)
Akihabara is a dangerous place for those with spending habits. You could easily stop into one of the many stores there and drop about $80 in a quick purchase. There are simply way too many fun-looking toys to buy and signs to see. It's like being a kid again. Here's one minute of Akihabara:
For your additional enjoyment, here's a taste of a Japanese subway:
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Legs Have Eyes
The greatest benefit in being a character is that you are made of words. A story can only say that you get hurt or killed. What really happens to a character when the story goes, "He tumbled down a steep flight of cement stairs in a bundle of flailing arms and legs, snapping his neck and the number two pencil in his pocket. He lost his career and his girlfriend because of that fall, and most definitely his life. He was, in fact, dead." ? Is the assuredly dead character just standing offstage in metafictional space, waiting for the sequel novel to reveal that he didn't really die from falling down those treacherous stairs, that he is alive and well, and that he is indeed the father of some estranged woman's child?
Another benefit of being a fictional character is that you are blessed with instantaneous travel. With two words, "you're there!" No downtime, no lag. What a marvel life would be if we could all be where we wanted to be.
I spent over twenty hours hopping between planes and terminals today. At every security checkpoint I passed through, I was stopped so that the laptop I was carrying could be tested for explosive residue (thanks Angela). On my first flight to LA, I gave up my comfy window seat so that a husband could sit next to his wife and newborn daughter, rather than across the aisle from them. On the flight to Japan, I broke my six year vegetarian diet by eating fish and meat, which did a number on my stomach. I didn't sleep more than an hour at a time during the journey, what with the excitement and commotion of everything. Despite being so worn and beaten by the entire ordeal, the one thing I never forgot was my camera.
Click for Photos
Another benefit of being a fictional character is that you are blessed with instantaneous travel. With two words, "you're there!" No downtime, no lag. What a marvel life would be if we could all be where we wanted to be.
I spent over twenty hours hopping between planes and terminals today. At every security checkpoint I passed through, I was stopped so that the laptop I was carrying could be tested for explosive residue (thanks Angela). On my first flight to LA, I gave up my comfy window seat so that a husband could sit next to his wife and newborn daughter, rather than across the aisle from them. On the flight to Japan, I broke my six year vegetarian diet by eating fish and meat, which did a number on my stomach. I didn't sleep more than an hour at a time during the journey, what with the excitement and commotion of everything. Despite being so worn and beaten by the entire ordeal, the one thing I never forgot was my camera.
Click for Photos
Self's Introduction
Writing about one's self is difficult. Difficult, because there is choice in the person that you choose to portray. I could conjure up lies or put on some front, presenting myself as an entirely different person. I could tell people that I'm someone that I'm not, and no one besides my close friends and family would be any wiser. As opposed to a character in a story, a fictional character is a lie, and those lies have to be made believable in order to engage and build interest within the reader. It's no mistake that so many works are done in the second or third person. Saying "you" or "he" is less frightening than "I." Less personal that way, despite the fact that every character ever written is, in all actuality, a reflection of the author. "To gaze upon the works of an artist is to stare directly at the artist himself," I once read and am quoting now, from a source quite unknown to me. Perhaps I made it up?
This blog will be, as you have probably guessed, about me. Not the character "me," but me for me. Me while I travel through Japan, while I visit schools and tell all the adorable and well-mannered children that I meet when to say "he" and when to say "I" — It's "i" before "e," isn't it? Except after...? Sea of Japan. Correct.
Please enjoy, and please feel free to comment. The blog will last for three months, with several updates per week. I will post as many pictures as I can, because I'm certain that all of you will want to see the beauty of Japan that I, too, will soon have the privilege of witnessing.
In the meantime, wish me luck. I leave in 27 hours, and have yet to fit my belongings into this decently-sized and compartmentalized box of mine that will be hurled into the belly of some large metallic and bird-shaped object with enormous jet engines on it, a thing which I will also be boarding quite shortly to sit in a blue polyester chair that will fly me a quarter distance's way around the globe in less than half a day's time. It's going to be great.
This blog will be, as you have probably guessed, about me. Not the character "me," but me for me. Me while I travel through Japan, while I visit schools and tell all the adorable and well-mannered children that I meet when to say "he" and when to say "I" — It's "i" before "e," isn't it? Except after...? Sea of Japan. Correct.
Please enjoy, and please feel free to comment. The blog will last for three months, with several updates per week. I will post as many pictures as I can, because I'm certain that all of you will want to see the beauty of Japan that I, too, will soon have the privilege of witnessing.
In the meantime, wish me luck. I leave in 27 hours, and have yet to fit my belongings into this decently-sized and compartmentalized box of mine that will be hurled into the belly of some large metallic and bird-shaped object with enormous jet engines on it, a thing which I will also be boarding quite shortly to sit in a blue polyester chair that will fly me a quarter distance's way around the globe in less than half a day's time. It's going to be great.
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