People often ask me why I came to Japan and to be honest I don’t remember anymore. There was no ambition for climbing the social and political ladders, no scheme to secretly change the English education system and no plan to reinvent myself as pretentious bohemian. All I wanted was to do my job sincerely and well. At times I drifted aimlessly through the rice fields and mountains of Iwaki, but what’s wrong with that? Along the way I picked up a new language, a ton of happy memories, a handful of great friends and a wife.
I’m also often asked why I stayed for so long. I stayed because it was my pleasure.
I didn't think anything memorable or important would happen in these last few months on the JET Programme, I thought it would be a time for reflection, packing and stress. I almost didn't do Cycle Aid Japan because I didn't want to be committed to something at this time, but it turned out to be one of the best experiences I've had in Japan, and one of the worst. I did the 60km 'middle course' from Koriyama to Fukushima.
Belly dancers appeared at the start.
Chie drove me and my bike up to Koriyama where the event was to start. It was a charity cycling event, not a race. I went to the bathroom and while I waited for an eternity to get into a bathroom stall a slouching, slow moving man in his late 20s shuffled up to a urinal and pulled down his trousers to reveal an adult diaper. It was apparent that this man had special educational needs. Soon after a teenager came into the toilet and upon seeing the harmless man slouched over the urinal, he turned and walked out laughing. The shame. The man in his late 20s shuffled out of the toilet and met his waiting mother who fixed up her son's trousers and led him away. I thought about a parent's love for their children, and wondered aloud why both guys in the stalls were taking such a goddamn long time to come out. Finally one of them finished and I saw in the stall the now familiar sight of shit and mess around the rim of a "more hygienic" Japanese squat toilet. Then I defecated gloriously and I worried that it would end up being the highlight of the day.
My friend who is American but not obnoxious attended the event with me and if it wasn't for him signing up as well, I probably would have quietly let the sign-up deadline slip by. He is stronger and faster than me and I was worried that he would outclass me so much as to cause embarassment, but we stuck more or less together until the end. A member of staff rode behind everyone and if you dropped back to where he was, he had to ask if you wanted to retire. This was my biggest fear, and worrying about it stopped me from fully enjoying the first half of the course. About three times during the ride a bright yellow support car slowed down beside me to ask if I was okay, and then went right by other people who were going at the same speed as me. Did my condition appear worse than everyone else's? Perhaps they had perfectly straight riding form and I was hunched and flailing all over the place. At the rest points no one looked as tired as I felt, they were either hiding it well or I was out of my league. As usual, I underestimated myself. The recommended average speed for the course was 15km/h but we did an average speed of 20km/h, completing the course in 3 hours and 12 minutes.
The rice fields and the mountains.
Maybe it was me, but the event seemed a little dour at times. The female staff at the registration desk were happy, but the male staff at the start point were very stern faced. I attempted communication with one of them, but it was weird and he didn't seem interested. When we set off the staff gave a sober applause, the kind you'd hear from a group of mothers watching their sons go to war for the emperor. None of the whooping and hollering that I was expecting. The same solemn clap was heard from the staff at all the rest points. I just wanted to be encouraged, I just wanted people to care about me. My American friend and I did some whooping when we set off from the halfway rest point but we got laughed at. The other participants mostly had severe expressions, and discussed in serious tones their condition and the complications of the course. No smiles.
However, towards the end of the course you could feel the esprit de corps. People resting on the side of the road shouted support and I shouted back. "Only 15km to go!" The last 10km included a long 4km climb, at the peak of which was a small group of staff and members of the public. They shouted "Just a little further!" and I groaned "Is this not the end?" They laughed and I laughed, finally creating the jovial atmosphere I felt was appropriate for this community event. Music was playing from my iPhone on the way down the final hill to the finish line, a certain song played and in that moment it meant something and I was happy.
The lock on the double sliding library door at school does nothing. The key pushes the lock in but it doesn't go in to the other door. It's useless. How long had it been like that? I can't be the only one to have realised, but nothing has been said. The janitor changed the lock, but the new lock is just as useless. I did speech contest practice with a student in the library and forgot the key, so I showed her how to break the door open. This was a responsible thing to do because it showed the importance of using one's initiative.
Adapting to Japanese culture is necessary if one is to live here and participate in the JET Programme. I think I've done well, but there are some things to which I have failed to adapt.
1. Sushi. For me, a meal is something that is hot and cooked, and sushi is neither. God knows I have tried to enjoy all kinds of sushi, from the cheapest to the finest and freshest. I can definitively say that I am not a sushi fan and I never will be. If there is a grilled selection (aburi) on the menu, I can enjoy a sushi restaurant, but that isn't really sushi (as sushi fans, with maximum arrogance, will be quick to point out). For me, raw fish just don't taste of anything.
2. Masks. I want to see a person's face when I speak to them. I want to see how they are reacting to me. I especially dislike the students who wear masks all year round to hide their faces. Usually girls.
3. Doorway height. The old standard for doorway height is 180cm. I am 186.5cm tall.
4. Public gargling. Teachers routinely gargle in the staffroom and the sound is disgusting. Gargling is an act which takes place in the bathroom, along with pooing and weeing. I brush my teeth in the staffroom but only when it's too cold to stand in the toilet.
5. Squat toilets. They are said to be more hygienic, but people wouldn't say that if they'd seen what I've seen. Streaks of poo have lingered on outer rims for too long for me to believe that squat toilets are more hygienic. Plus, the actual physical act of using a squat toilet is too similar to pooing in a bowl.
6. Onsen. They're too hot. Are onsen actually an ancient game of perseverance for the Japanese, and no-one tells foreigners about it? Even though onsen are supposed to have healing powers, I actually feel worse being in one. It usually feels like the contents of my stomach are being forced up and out of my body.
"Death" (死) was written on an absent boy's desk and I wondered if he'd committed suicide. I didn't follow up on this but I didn't hear anything about a suicide so I assume he's okay.
Tuesday
I did some research to support my conclusion that surgical masks are not effective at preventing the spread of respiratory illness. I found a four year old discussion on Japan Today which was interesting. I didn't find any articles to match my opinion exactly but one article said that if masks are used improperly they can increase the spread of respiratory illness; Pulling a mask down to your chin and back up to your face collects bacteria from your face and puts it straight in your mouth, a warm and moist mask worn all day becomes an ideal breeding ground for bacteria. There's also the question of whether the mask you choose is of a high enough quality to stop small flu bacteria getting in. In the end though, it's a goddamn mask and wearing one all day is not something my western mind will ever accept. I'm now used to seeing Japanese wear masks but when I see foreigners trying to fit in by wearing a mask it sheds fresh light on how strange it looks.
Wednesday
More of the annual hysteria about "INFLUENZA", the fatal infectious disease that kills almost instantly. INFLUENZA is ever present and breeds on every surface and rides every breath, but if we open the windows for ten minutes in the morning and play some Communist Party music to "change the air" all traces of INFLUENZA will disappear? Then we can go back heating the classrooms with kerosene in 2013 and making everyone feel like crap. Every year teachers have the same level of surprise and fear about INFLUENZA, even though it comes and goes every year. Instead of an annual panic and Influenza Prevention Announcement overload, why not have good personal hygiene all year round?
Thursday
Going to the gym less makes me more tired. Being less active overall makes me more tired. I know that's normal, but I have a hard time explaining it to people who can't accept that doing nothing will not increase your energy.
Friday
The convenience store didn't have either one of my trademark chicken pasta salads and only had the disgusting shrimp salad. The shrimp salad has fish eggs as a dressing, which adds insult to injury. They didn't even have the small cartons of orange juice, but had every other flavour. This is surely an intentional personal attack against me. The same thing happened at the supermarket. I was regularly buying sliced baguettes for making garlic bread, but they suddenly stopped being sold. Only recently have unsliced baguettes made a return. A friend and I were always buying a ton of delicious 88 yen banana flavoured milk drinks every week and they stopped being sold too. This is clearly a personal attack aimed at discouraging foreigners from shopping at these places.
There is no greater terror in my world than a table full of pure traditional Japanese food. The sushi and its petty vegetables, the plate of miscellaneous food that I am too ignorant to identify, and the pot of fish eggs.
Is there a food more pointless than fish eggs? Who was the first person to catch a fish and say, "Let's keep the eggs, they're delicious enough to be eaten as a seperate thing." Fish eggs are desperation food to me, or "wartime food" as someone else put it. Fish eggs would be eaten if options were low, but wouldn't be chosen over anything else.
At this hotel we also got a fish that was mostly fish eggs on the inside. If the fish is mostly fish eggs and not fish meat, don't cook it. It's not food. What if you cut open a chicken steak and the inside was mostly yolk? I am culturally sensitive.
The mysterious coin outside the salon apparently came from the Tsubame pachinko parlour. Politely returning the coin gave me a chance to infiltrate the establishment.
Pachinko parlours are so goddamn loud. Imagine a waterfall that isn't water, but instead of being water it's ball bearings and marbles, not water. That's the sound. The sound is everywhere, not coming just from the direction of the game machines like in an arcade. It's totally immersive, 3D sound. At the counter at the far end of the parlour there was a not unattractive girl looking half excited, half scared to be looking at me; a face to which I have become accustomed. I told her the coin was dropped outside and I'm giving it back, and she didn't hear a single word I said. I repeated variations of those facts and she didn't seem to hear any of it. I had to lean in close to her and scream, "This was dropped! Dropped! Dropped!" Eventually she said nodded, "Oh, it was dropped, thanks."
Based on that interaction I assume that no one talks to Counter Girl when they buy their tokens. They simply indicate a desired amount and hand over money and walk off. No real communication is expected. Although that isn't really any different from the service you get in restaurants and porn shops, where everything is said with polite set phrases. Anything beyond the expected parameters of the interaction is met with confusion or repetition - just like Siri, the robot. Not that I'm expecting waitresses to flirt with me all the time, especially not now that half the waitresses in town are my old students. I haven't seen any old students in porn shops, not in person.
It would be wrong of me to criticise pachinko as an activity considering the amount of time I've sunk into video games and stalking, also popular Japanese pastimes. It would also be wrong of me to criticise the people who frequent pachinko parlours. They may look dirty, lazy, and unsociable but I'm sure they don't play pachinko every day. They probably spend a lot of time at home too, sleeping and ignoring their unwanted kids.
