Zen and the Art of Travel: Home and Away (or Why I Love the USA)

"You do not know the worth of water until the well is dry." So the proverb goes.

The benefits of travel are many: a broader perspective and world view, an understanding of international issues, and a context for one's own beliefs. My grand Japan adventure has allowed me to learn many things about this new country. Additionally, I have an entirely new perspective on life in the United States and what it means to be an American. 

In truth, every place has its roses and its thorns, but it's much easier to recognize the negatives that surround you, wherever you are. Throughout most of high school and college I became increasingly disillusioned about my own cultural values. I was ever the cynic about politics, about the bombastic, wasteful, lazy, and inconsiderate American persona. I was skeptical about the dominant American ideals: wealth, power, fame, beauty...materialism and militarism.  In many ways I was ashamed of being an American.

As I prepared to come to Japan, as a cultural educator, I asked myself, "What is American culture?" What makes us unique? I thought about idioms like, "As American as Apple Pie" or "As American as Baseball." Similarly, my students have great difficulty addressing Japanese culture. However, based on a recent Facebook poll conducted by myself, most Americans have at least some idea about what Japanese culture looks like. They think of anime, technology, drifting, sushi, and chopsticks. They think of white rice, honor, samurai, and "The Karate Kid."  Maybe they think of martial arts or calligraphy. But is that what Japan is, really? We think of a stereotypical, over generalized image of Japan; one without nuance. 

Now that I am in Japan, I find myself teaching not about a nuanced America, but instead, a simulacrum and a stereotype. My students find it easier to understand a simplified, cut-and-dry explanation of holidays, food, and music in English. When someone asks me, "What is your favorite American food?" it is difficult to say, "enchiladas" or "pizza" because my students would look at me confusedly and ask "Isn't that Mexican food?" or "Isn't that Italian food?" It's really difficult for me to talk about Lady Gaga as the penultimate American musician, and generalize about a land that's as vast and diverse as America.

I recently read this article in the Star Tribune about exchange students and their perceptions of America as compared to their home countries. "Fast food (they were amazed by the portions and super-sizing). Free refills. Huge refrigerators" and "A Russian student, for example, was perplexed about why everyone in Minnesota seemed so chipper. 'Why do people talk to me?' he asked Lee-Dobbs early in the school year. 'Why are they so happy?'"

I have discovered, despite some lingering misgivings, that I can be proud to be an American. It's a place where you can look someone in the eye and really speak your mind. You can be confident and bold and show emotion. It's a  place where all kinds of different people live together and learn to understand one another; I miss the diversity of the U.S.A. It sounds like a platitude, but I honestly find this amazing in comparison to Japan. We are open to change. I love how women are respected. I love the vibrant fashions and music and flavors. You know what? I love American culture. 

Spending a year abroad was one of the best things I have ever done. New experiences, like travel, give you a better understanding of who you are and where you come from: a broader perspective. As outsiders to a new culture and temporary outsiders to our own, we can see our culture and selves more clearly. Travel is about opening oneself up to a new way of living and gaining a better understanding of the world and oneself from this detached perspective.  Furthermore, you don't realize how much something has truly influenced you, its value, until you are removed from it, or, "You do not know the worth of water until the well is dry."

I can't wait to call America home again.

Not Recontracting: One Year in Japan

The decision of whether or not to recontract with the JET Program is complicated at its simplest. The decision must be made 6 months into your year, by February, about whether or not you want to stay for another year and a half, for me it would be until August 2014.

Everyone feels pressure: from your contracting organization, your friends, your family, and yourself. You must make an important decision about your future. Your career, your finances, your personal relationships, and your well-being are all at stake. We weigh the pros and the cons. We do a cost-benefit analysis.

People argue that they spent a year or more preparing and applying to come to Japan, so to spend only a year here would be a waste. The position is competitive, well-paying, and exciting. And after one year, just when things are starting to make sense and you start to finally understand what's expected of you and how to operate in society without actin’ the fool, how could you possibly decide to leave? 

Your friends say, “Can’t I convince you to stay another year?” Your contracting organization has jumped through so many hoops just to get you to where you are; to guarantee your happiness, safety, and legality in Japan. You’ve grown so close to your coworkers and you’ve carved out a place in your schools, in your town, and even in your prefecture. The transition back to your home country would likely be complicated and taxing. Plus, there's no guarantee of finding a job in the tough global economy.

Regardless of the decision you make, it feels necessary to give a justification. And for me, despite all the above arguments to the contrary, I have decided NOT to recontract. I will be a one-year wonder, a passing fancy, like Dr. Who, here one minute and gone the next. Here’s why.

I’m a twenty five year old woman. I’m married. This is my first international journey and I want more adventures. My puppy and my family are all back in America. I can’t speak Japanese and I don’t have a future in a Japanese company in America, nor can I see myself living permanently in Japan. Most jobs require 5-years experience or an advanced degree, and as well as I could spin my JET experience into relevant experience, it probably isn't. After one year, my student loans will be paid off!

It was painful for me to break the news to my supervisor: the kindest, hardest working woman you can imagine. I know how much she personally has done for me, granted, her job title is “ALT Supervisor,” but she is like my mother in Japan. I didn’t just check the box on the paperwork and say, “I’m not recontracting.” I expressed my deep gratitude, and said that is was a very difficult decision. I explained my personal reasons, and reiterated how much the BOE has done for me, how much I love this town, and how sad it will make me to leave. I was tearing up a little, which is not professional but I couldn’t help it.

I know that I’ll be looked down upon by the JET community, and probably by my coworkers, people who maybe don’t understand that people make decisions based on factors and situations that are much different than their own. I feel like being a JET alumni who worked for only one year is like a badge of shame. Like, “I’m inept and I don’t like Japan that much.” I’m not usually a super confident person, but I will say that I’m pretty good at my job. I work hard and my students always enjoy class and learn English. I love Japan. I fit into my community. It breaks my heart to go.

There is a greater truth here about the difficulty of decision making as a whole. How do people come to decisions? I’m sure there is a lot of psychological research that has been done, or philosophical theories, but usually we decide a thing without thinking about the deciding itself. On the Wikipedia page for Decision Making, there are about 50 links in the "See Also" list of related topics. Making decisions is really hard to do and understand.

I'll end with this quote that summarized my decision. The quote is by Victor Hugo, from his work which has been newly popularized by film, Les Miserables:

“The straight line, a respectable optical illusion which ruins many a man.”

Japanecdotes (your daily portmanteau)

The sad thing about having a new idea, say, an invention or a word or a story or idea for art, is that when you Google it, it almost certainly already exists. Isn’t that a disappointing feeling? We long for a sense of discovery and individuality, and it’s almost impossible to find.

Anyway, this post is dedicated to the inspiring and quirky individuals of my town and Japan as a whole. To that one strange and wonderful thing that happens or that someone says that turns your world upside down or makes your day a million times better. The small gestures, transcendent utterances, and lovely coincidences. The hundred crows cawing ominously from a tree on my walk home. When they fly off suddenly, moving in unison. When I can’t help but stare in wonder. When my boss walks into the office after a meeting somewhere and pulls two Clementine oranges out of his pockets, one for my supervisor and one for me, the only two ladies in our department. When I return to the office and I find this gift on my desk: (sea urchin):

 

A new country and culture allows a person many novel experiences and discoveries. The things that happen to me that seem so special are often those things that break through the usual and the expected. “Rebekah, This is sea urchin.” It’s never expected that the elementary teachers know any English, but yesterday, one young woman walked right up to me, looked me in the eye, and communicated in English so confidently and genuinely. She didn’t look nervous, look away, or stumble over her words. That’s how you communicate in English, man. Boldly.

I used to think that the reason I love teaching is because children are spunky and every day they will make you laugh at something silly or make you really think by asking a poignant question. The truth is, this is why I like life, and people. One of my new year’s resolutions is to open myself up more to others; to be my true self. Most adults won’t ask questions out of ignorance and naivety that fill you with wonder. They pretend they have all the answers. The most wonderful moments are when anyone, child or adult, is present and real and experiencing the world without fear and with joy.

So here are some anecdotes from yesterday. I can imagine this post like an episode of “This American Life.” "Each week, I choose a theme, and put together different kinds of stories on that theme.” Popping from person to person, and in the end asking a big question or leading readers to a conclusion about humanity. 

Yesterday night, a member of the English Circle dropped by my apartment at 9pm with a baguette and a loaf of bread. He’s a toothless old man whose eyesight is failing; in class he must use one, sometimes two magnifying glasses to see any handouts. He is well traveled, and he speaks eloquently in English about his visits to France and the cuisine. His passion for classical music is contagious. A month or two ago he gave us a giant sack of potatoes. 

Yesterday, a preschool boy looked up at me during our pasta necklace craft, and just said, “Robekah.” My name’s Rebekah, and even the other kids laughed at the funny pronunciation. I told him he can call me Bekah. He said, “Bekah-sensei.” I smiled.

Yesterday, during an elementary class food lesson, I brought a box with the front cut off and two hand holes on the sides. I would choose a volunteer who would close their eyes while I placed a food item in the box. Then, they inserted their hands into the holes and while the class watched them feel and think about the item, they guessed the food in English. After the first two volunteers, I noticed that only boys were volunteering. I remembered myself in elementary school, only volunteering after the risks were fully calculated and with the most hesitation. I tried to get a girl to volunteer, but none would. Later, I came back to the girls, and called on the most spirited girl. She was hesitant, but she came up with such courage and guessed the food item in English with the most confidence you could imagine. I was proud of her.

At the Shinnenkai, New Year Celebration Enkai (Japanese party), we had a tournament. In teams of two (my supervisor and I were a team), you wore a giant afro wig, clipped a pedometer to your waistband, and tried to get the most steps counted without moving your legs. Hilarity ensued. Maybe I can’t speak Japanese, but making a fool of yourself is universal communication. 

These are just a few examples of the tens of things that happen weekly that make me pause. When I lay down to sleep, and when I’m not worrying about tomorrow, the events of the day flutter through my mind. Some say that the Japanese people are guarded and emotionally distant.  While it’s difficult for me to make universal claims about a people, I guess there are certain aspects that seem to define a nationality. What are Americans like? You might say, “Bold, independent, and forthright.” Of course, this isn’t always the case.

The point is, I would never say that the Japanese people as a general rule are emotionally distant. As an outsider in my town and in this country, I have experienced so many acts of kindness and thoughtfulness, of self-expression despite language barriers, of closeness and openness, and just plan silliness. I couldn’t think of a better place to follow through with my new year’s resolution; to become a more open and genuine person; than in Yakumo, Japan. 

Curveballs and Roadblocks, or, “Onward, Ho!”

Here are some excerpts from last week’s rantyping (when you’re ranting and typing). I decided not to post the 1,000 word essay entitled, “A Misanthropic ALT After Winter Break.”

This letter is for you, my student. Please know that as much as I want you to have fun and learn English, I will be preparing your class based on some very rudimentary details and a hazy understanding of your English proficiency level and motivations for learning English...

...During the lesson, maybe I am the first foreigner you’ve ever seen, so you will look at me distrustfully while I nervously try to explain instructions to some activity with ridiculous gestures and demonstrations and incomprehensible English. All the while, members of my BOE are taking pictures of me, “Look at our resident captive foreigner who performs tricks for us.” 

The post would have gone on to detail the varied classes I teach:

5 junior high schools: My duties range from read-and-repeat from the textbook for 2 minutes and then standing awkwardly to the side of the room for 48 minutes, to teaching entire lessons which were prepared ahead of time or on the spot if the teacher forgot to inform me of my duties.

One-shots at about 10 elementary schools: My name is Rebekah. I’m from America. I have a dog and a cat. My favorite color is orange. I play soccer. Yes, I like sushi. Now that you know, I will teach colors while you stare at me like I have three eyes.

And a conclusion:

In the end, I find myself unable to properly communicate with the organizers of classes, the teachers, and the students, and my lessons suffer. No matter how much experience I have teaching or with children, or what I learned in my TEFL course, I am thrown curveball after curveball by everyone around me. 

But really, in the end, I’m glad that I didn’t rage post the entire thing. Things have definitely improved: the preschool, elementary, and adults classes have gone swimmingly since last week. I needed to get back into the swing of teaching after the long break. On Friday, I’ll be back to commuting to Jr. High Schools, and I’m sure there will be some curveballs and roadblocks, but, as an American might say(?), “Onward ho!”

Kansai Trip Part II: Kyoto and Kobe

On a ten day vacation, the first five or so days are all honeymoon, and after that, one becomes quite tired. It is amazing how exhausting vacations can be. In total, we took more than 138,752 steps across four cities, as calculated by my Nintendo DS Activity Log. In retrospect, a couple days in Taiwan or Singapore sounds lovely.

I will make my Kyoto and Kobe summaries as short as possible, which likely means that they will be long-winded and meandering. Our first day in Kyoto was spent checking into the worst of our four hostels, bAkpAk Gion. Apparently there is a much nicer affiliated hostel down the street. I won't go into too many details, except for that I booked through a hostel booking website and their information was wrong so I ended up sharing a twin bed with my husband for three nights, while having to pay more than budgeted too, and that it felt more like someone's apartment than a place where guests are welcome. I shouldn't start this post off by complaining, sorry. We also saw this man feeding pigeons and hawks near the river. If I were a painter, I'd paint this:

We meant to visit Kiyomizu-dera Temple near the hostel but took a strange train and ended up exploring a mountain area. We saw a giant orange torii in the distance, and followed it to Heian Shrine, which was crowded and beautiful on New Years Day. It's one the largest torii in Japan! Sometimes the best adventures are the mistakes that you couldn't possibly plan as well as they turn out.

The next day, we made our way to Kiyomizu-dera Temple after all, but it was even more crowded than Heian Shrine the day before. We couldn't enjoy many of the sights because of the long lines and big groups of people. As much as I enjoyed the architecture, I more appreciated the walk up to the temple on narrow streets of traditional shops and restaurants.

We did the Philosopher's Walk on our last day in Kyoto, named because of a professor and philosopher at Kyoto University is said to have walked the same path every day. It runs along a canal, past various shrines and temples. The most surprising sight was this man, the Pied Piper of cats, who rang his bike bell and summoned a clowder of cats from the neighborhood and fed them.

We ate sandwiches for lunch by the river, casually throwing pieces to pigeons. What I am going to say next is in no way an exaggeration. All of a sudden, a hawk swooped down and took my sandwich. Right from my hand. One minute my sandwich was there, and the next, my thumb nail hurt a little and the hawk was flying away with my sandwich! I was utterly stunned, and glad that the hawk had great aim. Now I know why Japanese people on the bridge were mumbling disapprovingly about people feeding the pigeons...tens of hawks perch upon buildings near the river, awaiting the pigeon swarm that results from a person who feeds them with the best of intentions. The unknowing people watch bemusedly as the pigeons, and then some hawks, swoop down, displaying aerial feats to catch the gifts in midair. And everyone has a good time, that is, until the hawks find the source of the food and swoop down...

We took the train to Kobe the next morning, and checked into our final hostel, R2 Hostel. I kid you not, one of the staff members was walking around barefoot and drinking vodka. And even though it's winter, the windows in the bathrooms were always open, but the toilet seats were heated so I guess I can't complain. The lodgings were tolerable, even though our room was located right in the middle of the mixed dorm.

We were quite tired at the end of our trip, but rented bikes and ventured forth anyway. We headed for the arboretum, but, improvising, it took us about 30 minutes by bike, 45 climbing a mountain, and 10 hitchhiking to get there. The arboretum was lovely, even in winter; I can just imagine the place in spring or fall! On the way back, we couldn't manage to hitchhike a ride, so walked about an hour as the sun neared setting to the spot where we left the mountain's summit trail. We saw a beautiful sunset vista of Kobe, better than any of the tallest buildings downtown could have charged us for. I enjoyed that someone wrote, "Freeeeeedom" on the sign at the top of the mountain.

On our last day in Kobe, we tried a city onsen (no shampoo or soap and a lot of old people actually using it as a public bath and not a relaxing spa), ate a standing meal of soba noodles, and trudged around Harborland too tired to enjoy a lot of the touristy things.

Our trip back to Hokkaido started by train, taking it to the Bay Ferry which sailed across Osaka Bay to the Kansai Airport. Then, we took a shuttle bus to Terminal 2, boarded our plane, and arrived safely at New Chitose Airport. We took the shuttle train to Minamichitose and finally the train home to Yakumo. Needless to say, I had plenty of time to beat Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (with Tom helping me beat some of the bosses. What? They're too hard for me).

In the end, this vacation was one of various learning experiences. From the culture and traditions surrounding the Japanese New Year, to how to not embarrass yourself at temples and shrines, to the fact that you can't stand casually in the middle of an escalator because people will want to go around you. I figured out public transportation in Japan, how to use functional Japanese, and travel on a budget.

I learned also about my own travel limits and expectations, and the challenges and joys of travelling as a couple or part of a group. And finally, every time I travel, I discovered how easy it is to pick up and go somewhere new for a few days or a week and a few days, and the complete pleasure one feels upon returning home to your own bed.

How to Celebrate Christmas with Family Overseas

Step 1: Send a huge package full of gifts.

Step 2: Receive huge packages full of gifts.

Step 3: Do things you usually do together virtually. For us, that's playing Settlers of Catan Online and talking about nerdy things. We also have our family “Leaflets of SciFantasy Book Club."

Step 4: Skype on Christmas (even if it means taking the day off work because of the time difference).