三番 Sanban

Well, I guess it's time to tell the next part of the story.

The night of the earthquake, the ground was in constant motion, but I somehow managed to sleep quite thoroughly (perhaps the knowledge that friends and colleagues were stuck at offices and schools around Tokyo helped me to be appreciative of my own futon). I chatted online with Hera(one of the many stuck at work) and made plans to meet in the morning if/when the trains started running. We decided it was better not to be alone; because although the earthquake had been a bit scary, we were still kind of excited to have a Saturday off.

The trains started up, slowly and uncertainly; riding the train the next morning was a little spooky. Japanese trains are normally pretty quiet, but the air was clearly different now. Therewas a moment when a man's bag dropped from his lap, and all eyes sharply turned at the sudden movement. We hadn't even realized we were all on edge. I got to Hera's, where it was promptly decided that we would actually spend the night at Jamie's.

Once everyone was together, however, the mood was light, and we actually began to have a pretty good time drinking wine and eating take out from Pizza Hut. Jamie invited his Belgium friend over, and we stayed up until the wee hours drinking wine and watching L'Auberge Espagnole.

The next day was actually wonderful weather; only a few weeks earlier it had been snowing, but it had begun to look like spring. That being the case, we decided to make our way over to Yoyogi Park; taking the scenic route by walking from Shinjuku to Harajuku. Surprisingly (or maybe not? I'm not really sure what usually happens in these kinds of situations), the park was full of peopl

e in high spirits. So we joined them; climbing trees, hula-hooping, and the like.

Our merry-making prompted other foreigners to head our way, one woman bringing a batch of hula-hoops along with sexy instructions on how to use them (and she was very willing to give Jamie some helpful hints). We started a chat with some other people who wandered over. Two gaijin told us that they were planning on leaving Japan that week. They told us that they didn't believe the Japanese were being completely forthright in the situation at the power plant. That was the first moment that I felt the uncomfortable feeling of fear dropping in my stomach. Of course I had heard some information about what was happening at the power plant; but honestly, it hadn't seemed like that big of a deal. Still, I brushed it off and decided to have a fun day. That night, Hera came over, because I told her that I had cleaned my apartment after the earthquake in the possibility that my coworkers had to spend the night. She said that sight of my clean apartment was an occasion to come over, but when she got there, her reply was, "You were going to let your coworkers stay here like this??"

The next morning, I began looking at more information, but by all logical accounts, the situation was far removed from me. I remember thinking how far Fukushima seemed at 250 kilometers; one of my friends from training worked there, and he had only come down to Tokyo once since going up there. When I talked with my mom that morning, the power plant situation came up; however, even though I began with the reassurances of distance, she didn't seem to be worried. That in turn made me feel relieved as well, and I even felt a little proud of my mom--Hera's mom was beyond worried and had asked Hera to come home--to which Hera replied, "Sure, if you want to buy the ticket."

After that, Hera and I decided to get try and get kaitensushi that afternoon (try being the key word, as so many places were still closed).Because of the unreliability of the trains, we decided to walk to a nearby train station instead of transferring trains. But when we got there, the other line was closed off completely--I didn't even know they could close up the station in the way they did.

So we decided to try walking to the sushi place--though I should mention that we were dressed

a little fancy due to my desire to have a bit of a photo safari to add excitement to the day. We definitely got a few stares; one very, very old truck driver saw us me lift the hem of my dress to take pictures, and motioned his encouragement for me to go farther with my lifting. Finally, we made it to our destination--and it was open!! The lights were half off, and the sushi selection was limited, but everything we wanted was available, so we clapped our hands in glee and ate!

After our meal, we took the bus back to Shiki. On the bus, I got a call from manager asking, "Can you come into work tomorrow?" I assured her I would be there; Hera had likewise received a call from her manager; however, her manager had informed her that wh

ile we had to come in, lessons were cancelled for the day.

We had been trying to decide where we would spend the afternoon when we arrived back in Shiki, knowing that where ever we ended up would be where we spent the night. With the possibility of a group larger than 3 people, we decided the best place would be to go back to Jamie's, so we headed to Akabane.

We met our friend Beth at the station, and we headed to Seiyu

(Japan's Wal-Mart) for supplies. However, the sight of the store was fairly shocking--while it was crowded with people, it definitely was not crowded with food. Empty shelves wrapped around the store, barren except for a strange green tea. After we left the store, I had some bad luck--my camera fell out of my backpack, and my lens broke. I felt like a gloomy mood had begun to settle.

The next day, I left Jamie's early to ensure that if train schedules were wonky, I could still make it in time. I didn't need to worry, though--even though the platform across from me had a line way beyond the staircase leading up to it (for those going in the direction of Tokyo), mine was clear and a train came fast. I had just enough time to change into some clothes and head in, barely having time to read the news that radiation had made its way to Tokyo and Saitama, though at levels that were said not to be harmful to humans.

二番 Niban

Fictional Names of real people:

Mimi: Head Teacher

Yoda: Kids' Head Teacher

Gaijin Guy: Other foreign teacher (and that makes me Gaijin Girl, technically)

Meowmy: Assistant Manager (this comes from an inside joke about a completely different person with the same name)

Lady Student: Self-Explanatory

Mainly, these names are similar to the originals because I'm crap at keeping things straight.

Like I mentioned in the previous post, I wasn't entirely enthused about the week of work ahead of me--after arriving at 5 a.m. in Tokyo, I would start work at 12--followed by a 6 day work week (as I was scheduled for Sunday Open; every so often, one teacher will have extra classes on a Sunday). Still, I felt like I had planned well--I slept fairly well on the plane, then went home for a brief nap, and I was pretty successful. I actually managed to have an international plane excursion without getting jet-lagged.

Still, I was relieved when Friday rolled around with a light load. I usually have 7 classes on Thursday, followed by an easy Friday, though lately I've had classes piling on. I was originally supposed to have 6 classes, but my private lesson at 2 cancelled, which meant that I had an office hour followed by a lunch hour. As it turned out, all of us teachers had a prep class that hour, and we only had one student doing a brief counseling with our assistant manager.

I was alone in the office when I felt the shaking, though it wasn't major at first. I even stepped into the counter area of our lobby (or rather, the door frame of it--I know my earthquake safety tips) and asked, "Is this an earthquake?" Gaijin Guy semi-shouted, "Yes, it is!" at which point the shaking seemed to amplify, and my impression was that it was as if someone had actually turned up the volume dial--and suddenly, Yoda took off outside; immediately, Gaijin Guy vaults over the counter (which is at least 4 1/2 feet tall), and the rest of us followed down the 3 flights of stairs. Outside, many more people were poring onto the street, and we moved further down near a parking lot. I looked up and realized some kind of water tower next to an apartment was gushing water. The ground was still shaking, and I remember thinking, "What is this?" Actually, with my paranoid mind, I began to sensationalize that this had to be more than an earthquake, and I was certain there was going to be some kind of alien attack or something (I have a very active imagination! It can be a good thing sometimes!).

Finally, the ground seemed to hold still, and we meandered around for a few minutes before heading back inside. Only a few minutes later, however, the ground began heaving about again, and we once more resumed the flight down the stairs. We did this up-and-down the stairs dance a few times before we finally realized that the ground was probably going to have the wiggles for awhile, and we decided to just ride it out by staying put in the school. Mimi read a news bulletin about a tsunami warning, and I started to freak out--the way she phrased it made it sound like it could hit us, and there was nothing we could do about it. Once she clarified about the location, I calmed down a bit.

About 15 minutes or so after the earthquake, Yoda and Gaijin Guy (GG from this point out; not to be confused with Gossip Girl) went out to lunch, and I decided to try and get a spare key made during my lunch break.

As I walked outside, I began to realize some of the more unpredictable effects of the earthquake. For example, the Pachinko parlour near the station had emptied out, and the pavilion outside was crowded with people who looked like they don't usually come out in the light of day (for those of you who don't know: Pachinko is this weird gambling type game that is insanely popular with the gambling addicted of people in Japan). Besides that crowd, there was actually a large amount of people milling around the station in general, and I realized that the trains had stopped running; as the ground was still shaking every so often, I decided to skip the key making and just panic-bought candy instead. This was a good call, because candy is always a good call.

Back at the office, I relayed the news of the stopped trains, and on the inside, I was gleefully realizing that classes would probably be cancelled for the day, since students wouldn't be able to get there. Not long after this thought, we got the official call that classes were cancelled--though that didn't stop a lot of students from trying. The mother of my student from my next class of the day rushed in to apologize for her daughter's absence, as she was stuck at her school--an interesting gesture that struck me as completely Japanese. We waited around for a few hours before I got restless and said I was going home. I let my coworkers know they were welcome to come to my place if the trains weren't running; my main reason for leaving before everyone else was that I wanted to clean my apartment, because I thought that having guests would be a real possibility. However, after a little debate between Mimi and Yoda (of which I was updated on via Facebook), they decided to walk home--a journey that took Mimi at least 3 hours. After I began hearing others' experiences, I realized that this was quite a common thread--I had one student in her 70s who walked 15 km home after the earthquake. Another common situation was sleeping at the office--the majority of my salarymen students did this, as well as Hera and her coworkers.

That night, a friend convinced me to go buy supplies, and as I walked around my city, I couldn't help but look at the people around me and think, "We all have this in common. We all have the same thing on our minds right now." It was a strange experience; the last time I remembered feeling that way was on September 11th--you think, "Things are different now," but you can't really predict how.

But I did predict that I would have the day off on Saturday, and I figured that meant one thing: sleepover!

Well, oy.

I guess it's been a bit two months now since I updated. Mainly it was because I was lazy, and things were crazy busy. But then things actually just went crazy. So if this is to be done, it should be done in parts.

1. Ichiban 一番

On March 3rd, I was finishing my day with a student, and I asked him what he was doing after class. He said he would just go home, and I told him I was going to America. He wasn't high level enough to get it right away, but he wasn't low-level enough to miss it completely, which made for an excellent double take. So after his lesson, I hopped in my hot pants and jumped on the monorail with Hera to Haneda Airport.

Honestly, it didn't quite feel like reality; I had a hard time getting it into my head that we were actually going to America, even though

the week leading up to it was the most excited I had felt since...some time past. And the plane ride itself was amazing--anyone who has ever been on a plane with me knows that I will scare the crap out of not just myself, but a

nyone within earshot of my terrified gasps--because I had not one but SEvEN seats to myself. That's right; I had two aisles to my lonesome.

When we got to the Americas, Hera and I jumped in the airport bus and basically started giggling--yes, like usual, we were in a vehicle full of Asians, but this time we were in

our territory, and we could act anyway we wanted. On the bus, I even asked Hera, "Do you think we are the only white people on the bus?" Hera looked at me and said, "Well, you might

be."

In many ways, it felt like I hadn't really left, until obvious things peeked in: the complete reconstruction of the shop

s by my house, the reconstruction in my own house, not having my room anymore, KNOW life goes on no matter what, but somehow you think you know (or at least expect) how things will play out--and even though I knew about these things, it's still a strange sensation.

The wedding itself was a completely lovely occasion, and I'm so so glad I had the opportunity to see Kelsey and Andy together in person. I know they'll probably already have a baby or a dog or at least ridiculous pet names for each other when I get back, so at least I could see them when it was just them starting off.

There really is so much I could say about that weekend. And yet I can't, so you'll have to settle for that. So with much ado,

we returned to Japan.

At 6 or so in the morning, Hera and I got back on the monorail. It was a really lovely morning in Tokyo, but I wasn't completely thrilled about the prospects of returning to work in 6 hours. I mentioned to Hera about how my coworker was always saying things like, "Oh, there's going to by a typhoon, and it will flood the trains and they'll have to cancel school" or "It's supposed to snow, and since they don't really know how to deal with snow in Tokyo, it will stop the trains and they'll have to cancel school." So I remarked to Hera that he was making all these false-promises, and I was still waiting for something to happen that would stop the trains and cancel school.

Then came Friday.

I'm sorry I can't afford a Ferrari

But that don't mean that I can't get you there (heheheh...Glee. And/or Cee-Lo).

Today I decided I would either update my blog or clean my disgustingly messy apartment, and if you are reading this now, you clearly know the choice I made--so for the two of you who read my blog and made my Facebook wall look like this----->

---this one's for you.

Today is (I actually typed "was" to begin with, and that left me feeling quite philosophical for a moment) Saturday, the end of the week, which usually brings some interesting occurrence. One such event occurred in my second class, which is an upper-intermediate class with only one middle-aged gentleman. The last portion of class consists of a "freer" conversation period, where the students practice using the structure in a natural (?) style conversation. Today, we were using present perfect to describe a problem that lead to another problem. Since we are supposed to be having a natural sounding conversation, I find that it's better to ease into the structure without just straight out saying it, so I demonstrated by going, "Oh no!" so that he could follow with "What's the matter?" Then, when it was his turn, he began with, "G0dd@mmit!" I have to admit, that was a first in my classroom.

Gosh...I don't really know why I went with the post idea. I have nothing to say, really. Ummm...I had a Pepsi Strong Shot yesterday. There's even a warning on the label, probably saying not to drink it or something. The Japanese part that I can read says that it has MEGA CAFFEINE. However, I don't really feel the effects of caffeine, so warning ignored. It didn't taste as delicious as normal Pepsi...or even PepsiNex. Here's a picture. Also, after being unlazy and actually reading the can, I see now that it reads Cola x Caffeine. Also, what happened to "I before E except after C and in cases of 'eigh' as in 'neighbor' and 'weigh'"? So from now on, I will now be pronouncing it "caff-ay-n." No joke, sometimes English a really obnoxious little pissant, isn't it? Sometimes I want to knock it around a little and teach it a lesson. Instead, I knock it around a little when I teach it in lessons.

Oy...

I realized that the majority of the pictures I post on here are of me holding up food to my mouth. But I find this strangely accurate of my character. So here's a few more for fun.

Santa Cookie from Mem!

My fave KitKat--Lemon flavored! Wish it

didn't come with blagh cola flavor.

There's no place like Japan for the LOLidays.

Memily made me Christmas cookies, then mailed them to Japan!! I was soooer excited when I discovered them. I've eaten about 3 so far, and each one has been utterly fantastic. I don't think I realized it before, but one of my favorite foods is apparently Christmas cookies. Actually, anything Christmas or Birthday flavored is my favorite--fudge, stuffing, Princess Cake, cookie dough, etc. Which makes it clear why "Chubs McGee" has been a nickname that has followed me around like I follow around the ever-changing KitKat collection, or Mew, or Tegan & Sara.

But hennyways, this post was originally supposed to be about how mature and suave I have become since coming to Japan, something which was proven quite thoroughly this week by my ability to keep my shiz together under tremendous pressure (and by tremendous pressure, I mean holding in the desire to spout out, "That's what she said!"--but we'll get there. That's what she said).

The first incident occurred last night in one of my highest level classes. We were discussing the differences between humans and robots (yeah...it's too much work to explain), and I asked what the core differences are. My one student said that humans [edit: again, a very crucial mistake; this should read robot, NOT humans] don't have hearts; and since they lack the ability to have feelings, she said, "They can't make love." Usually I correct such mistakes by explaining the differences in what they have said and what they are trying to say, but I didn't really feel like explaining to a 30-something woman about this particular idiom. Also, I couldn't talk anyways--had to let someone else run with the topic as I tried to keep from laughing.

The second incident occurred this morning with a college student in our second most advanced class. She has a book of self-study that includes many different phrases that are useful in daily lives; I approached as she read it and laughed. When I asked to see what amused her, she showed me the phrase, "I've been waiting for a raise." Considering how nuts she was going over the brief sentence, I actually thought that she was pulling the same meaning from it as I was--but no, it turns out that she was just imagining someone waiting around to get a pay raise, which is apparently very funny in Japan.

The last incident (and yes, I am specifically using the word "incident" because it reminds me of LOST) did not come from student interaction, but instead was brought on by a listening activity in a class. Two of the characters in this textbook are visiting Vietnam, and I learned something from their trip: the Vietnamese currency is the dong. Yup. But even better than that, the female character tells her male coworker that she forgot to exchange currency, and asked him if he had enough dong for the night. He replied

that he had more than enough for the whole trip. Of course, everyone should know why this made me LOL--yup; because it reminded me of Long Duck Dong, everyone's favorite Chinaman from Sixteen Candles.