It all started innocently enough last Thursday.  I was to play a friendly game of a volleyball with the teachers of two of the schools I visit. It was a pleasent change from my afternoon elementary classes. All was going well. I teamed up with the elementary school and we crushed the junior high in the first game. Then, we switch sides for the second half of the match. This time, the junior high teachers were putting up a fight. The game stayed farily even, which caused everyone to start playing more ferociously, including myself. Well, I might have be a little too ferocious, as all I remember next is jumping up for a block, then coming down next to another teacher, twisting my right foot, falling down and and feeling an incredible world of pain.

My first instinct was to get up and shake it off. However, this proved to be difficult as it was throbbing like mad, so I ended up favoring my good foot. The other teachers immediately noticed my wobbling, and ushered me over to the wall. I sat down and winced. They asked me to take off my shoe an sock, and that is where things got ugly. What we found under that sock was a large, swollen mass of tissue. It was about double its original size and purple. I’d never seen my foot that swollen, and I’ve twisted my ankle quite a bit.

Someone brought a bucket of cold water and placed my foot in it. The gym wasn’t exaclty warm, and the cold water mixed with the air caused my face to turn blue. Then I started to feel sick. If this is what going into shock is about, then I was all about going into shock.

Of course everyone assumed that I was in a great deal of pain. In reality, the pain had subsided about 5 minutes earlier. I knew at this point, even if the swelling was bad, it was basically a sprain, and that no major damage was done. I was just dealing now with the effects of the cold water. I took my foot out of the water and started to feel better. Then, the school nurse turned to me and said, “Jason, I’m going to take you to the doctor.” My face tunred white. I couldn’t go to the doctor’s now. Besides, I never trusted Japanese doctors. They always overdid it with their treatments. I was now more terrified than ever.

I begged and pleaded and asked them to give me a few minutes to see if the swelling went down. I even stood up(to their horror) and walked around. “See, it’s not so bad”, I said. “I can walk and everything.” There is no way I could convince them. I was going to the doctor. That is when things basically turned to bullshit.

First of all, I should explain that I use “Concentration” as a way to practice vocabulary with young learners of English. I usually choose eight words, then print out two sets of them. During a class we’ll practice the target vocabulary, then I’ll lay out the cards on the black board in a 4X4 pattern. Young children love this game, and they enjoy trying to get a matching pair of words.

Well, the other day, I was playing this game with a group of first graders and the teacher mentioned how much she like the game herself. I asked her if this was a game that is played in Japan. She mentioned it was quite popular and is called “神経衰弱(shinkeisuijaku)” in Japanese. I didn’t get a chance to look it up until recently, but when I did, I almost fell out of my chair. I asked her again about the name. I asked  why it was translated into “Nervous Breakdown.” She couldn’t give me an answer.

I can only imagine what late night session of “concentration” by a group of overzealous salarymen lead to the game being called “Nervous Breakdown.” Somebody had to be playing this game at gunpoint.

 　　The Shigyoushiki is to let the students know that they should move from their summer vacation study schedule to a regular school schedule.   Otherwise they might not know they are actually suppose to attend classes again(they never stop coming to school, however.) I’m actually sure they would know about the new term, but you never can be too sure; and never being too sure is what Japan is all about.  Practice, practice and more practice.  Constant Vigilance!!!

    I took part in this ritual and it wasn’t all that bad. The principal came up and spoke of all the recent elementary school deaths around Japan(perhaps as a subtle hint not to die this term.)  He also wanted us to try our hardest and never give up, and that it’s time to pick up the pace and study like tomorrow was never going to come.   Constant Vigilance!!!

   Never mind that I had know idea when this ceremony started. I decided to be vigilant and get up at six am, so I could make it there without missing the ceremony. I made it with one and a half hours to spare. A close call.　But I was vigilant!!!

 Vigilant!!!

Today, I present for you, the elementary school English club. The school shall remain nameless in order to protect the identities of those involved.

I was asked to create some games and activities for an English club at one on my elementary schools. I created a number of interesting games that focused on colors, verbs, animals and shapes. I was already to have a blast with the club members. However, there was one little thing that stood in the way of this, and this was the ugly red tape demon. Hey, I’m a big fan of order in anything, but let me share some of the following with you:

Before our first meeting began each member got a club book they used to write down what they would be doing that day. Fair enough. I agree it’s important to do a little self evaluation in order to ascertain where you are. But this is where things got a little weird. The teacher in charge of the club asked the students to write down their titles on the board. Titles? There are only 8 members. So the president, the two vice presidents as the note taker all wrote their names and positions down on the board. Yes, there are four executives in an 8 member club. I was flabbergasted. In a moment of jest, since I was there to assist in the teaching of English, I offered to nominate myself the English President. Nobody found this funny at all. In fact most of the kids even looked at me like I was off my rocker. I learned an important lesson with. Never mock or interfere with internal bureaucracy.

After the executives are introduced, the curriculum for the club was laid out. There appeared to only be a handful of meetings during the summer, but they were should to make sure to go over every meeting. After this, we finally started the activities. This involves a twister like game. We actually has three games planned, but the setup time ate into all the time we had for fun. Then, after the game was finished, we had to do a reflection on what we thought of the activties that day. This is good and all, but with time limited to one hour, this is something that could have been written down and discussed at a later time. I was exhausted by this meeting, and not for the reasons I thought I would be. The very bureaucracy of the meeting left me in a mental fetal position.

I can’t help but feel that the club experience in Japan isn’t so much about doing the activity, but rather in all the structure surrounding the activity. For example, if you were a basketball club, and you met everyday, as long as you did all the rigid warm up drills (running, situps, stretches, and if you are lucky some dribbling,) the note taking, the clean up and the post club talk, there is really no need to actually play basketball. You would actually be considered a baskball club club hero if you were good at all the other stuff. In fact I know of a couple of softball teams that spend most of their year never actually playing a single game. This isn’t the case with all clubs, and I’ve seen many clubs that focus on actually teaching the students a skill or ability, but it does give me a strange realization about many of the clubs I’ve been to here.

Perhaps many clubs should just drop the sharade and call themselves bureaucracy club. It’s clear to me now that many clubs are not designed to teach school kids the sport or activity in question, but rather how to teach them how to assemble, when to assemble, how to obey authority, and never to question authority. There is nothing wrong with this per say( a little dicipline can be a good thing.) However, I think I finally know why it bothers me so. I am the kind of person who likes to get down to the essentials. I am not a fan of wasting time, and I feel that a club meeting without doing the actual activity is the biggest waste of time I could think of. But that’s just me. My new goal in these meetings is now to get as much actually activity in as possible. I want my kids playing English games, and speaking English. I don’t want them debating club structure and rules all day.

Imagine the rules of a bureaucracy club. What is the first rule of bureaucracy club? Set up a meeting and discuss the time for a future meeting that will determine when bureaucracy club will meet. What is rule number two? Makes sure the club executive is sound and in complete control. Long live bureaucracy club.

I read an article in a business magazine a number of years ago about how a typical day at a Japanese office goes. From that point on I have been quite reactionary towards many of the customs I see at Japanese companies. It might have been the long working hours (60-80 hours), or the large number of people who never take their paid holidays that got to me the most. For me, a healthy balance between work time and home time was the key to a healthy mind and body. I could never figure out exactly why the Japanese would choose to submit themselves to such terrible working conditions.

A couple of days ago, during my lunch break, I read this aritcle on the daily routine of an average Japanese worker. The writer of the article appears to have worked in Japanese companies for many years. I have also seen many of the things he talks about in the offices I have worked for. One thing from this article that shocked me was the idea of Japanese workers building strong connections with each other in the office. I can confirm this, since I see it almost everyday. I have also never seen a Japanese person fired for any reason during my time here. I can also attest to the superior craftsmanship of Japan cars, and electronics. JR trains are also almost never late. That is a testament to its workers.

So why do I get so agitated about Japanese working hours? It appears that many great things come from the dedication of the workers. It is, perhaps, that I am not part of that system. As an outsider, I sit on the sidelines. I don’t work the overtime they do, nor am I part of the lifetime employment(my contract is always a maximum of three years.) I am also not part of many of the bonding exercises they go through(I do go to the parties, however.) Perhaps an small part of me want to feel welcome in that. Even if I disagree with the conditions, no one wants to be on the outside looking in. Even if the inside resembles a sweatshop sometimes.

One final thing I noted with my coworkers is that they take a great deal of pride in their work. I can’t say they are always happy with the long hours and endless meetings. But the teachers I work with seem to have no regets about staying in the office until 10 or 11. They truly love their jobs, and would probably fight to keep them. I can’t think of a job I’ve ever wanted to fight to keep.

This article has left me a bit speechless. I was all ready to march into the Japanese Labour Ministry and demand labor rights. Now I realize that while individual rights could use some reform, a mass overhaul of the system might lead to a catastrophic change in an established and valuable work culture. This is something that has already begun to happen, no thanks to the invasion of western ideals. I suppose my awareness has been heightened on this matter. Someday I might even be game for an 80 hour work week. Just as long as they let me go drinking with them afterwards.

After they got their tests back, there was quite a bit of grumbling. The person I co-teach with in this class explained that English had some rather strict rules that needed to be followed, and this was the only way they would learn. I agree witht his sentiment. One student couldn’t believe it, and vocalized his anger. He uttered out what I thought to be the equivalent of “This is Madness!” to the teacher. I immediately tuned in, and could hold myself back. I just let it slip out:

“This is ENGLISHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

The class went silent. I went silent. I doubt they had any idea of what I was talking about, but I hope I didn’t freak em out too much.

1. In elementary school you can learn to ride a unicycle. I think I mentioned this before on the blog, but it blows me away every time. Usually, the girls learn to ride them. I assume it is to teach them balance, but I really have no idea why most elementary schools have them. Still, it’s pretty awesome.

2. Stilts. Yes, many(but not all) of the schools I’ve visited have stilts. Once again, I assume this is for teaching balance, but you’d think there would be better way to learn it. Did we ever have stilts in Canadian elementary schools?

3. Human Pyramid Making. I just learned about his yesterday, but it appears the students participate in human stacking projects. They do towers three students high, so they can be rather dangerous, but we aren’t talking “Cirque de Soleil” here. After thirty minutes practices, many of the students complain of sore backs and knees. Gee, I wonder why. The only time I’ve ever seen this in Canada was during cheerleading events.

There you have it. More bizzare and awesome things coming from Japan.

Today I came across an interesting idea that might make English Education even more awesome for those desperately trying to learn it. I’m looking for a few good definitions for the following words. This way, no matter how a student mispronounces a word, it will always mean something else. Here is the list:

Hanb – Why is there no meaning for this word?

Cip – Perhaps a new kind of fish?

Flox – Not a real word.

Fush – Like flush without the l.

Sot – I like the sound of this. Now it needs meaning!

There you have it. Now you have until May 26th to get me a winning definition. If you win I’ll invent a word for you.

So where do flowers = snow? Japan, that’s where.

Remember when The-artist-who-was-formerly-known-as-but-is-now-more-commonly-and-recently-legally-known-again-as-Prince changed his name to that weird symbol? Remember when people were completely flummoxed about how to pronounce it; confused by the very meaning of it? Yeah, that’s what Kanji is like.

Say the person’s name is Yukiko. There’s about a dozen ways to spell this in Kanji, all pronounced the same way, but in order to type the name, you are required to input some sort of bizarre pronunciation on the keyboard which you would never use in speech. It’s honestly worse than you could imagine. Kind of like a couple deciding to name their child Josephine, but instead writing Stalin-q-fine, and saying that “Stalin” should be pronounced Joe, because they have the same meaning, “fine” should be pronounced “feen”, and the “q” should be pronounced as “ah” because they kinda look similar. “Aren’t we clever?!”

You know how you hate those kids whose parents thought they were being clever, and named their kid Christina, with a “K” and 2 “Y”s? Yeah, it’s kind of like that, only 2000 times worse! The Japanese require you to know about 2000 kanji to be considered literate, to read the paper and so on. However, if you actually want to remember the name of the person you talked with earlier in the day, you need to know, by my estimates, about 8 billion of the little fuckers!

Thankfully every now and then my Kanji Dictionary throws me a bone, as if to say “yes, I understand your frustration, and I’m pretty sure that this combination of random short lines in a tiny box could mean nothing other than this unintelligible glyph, WHICH by the way has no connection to how the name is pronounced.” This somewhat makes up for the times when I draw in two parallel lines, but the dictionary decides for me that this couldn’t possibly be right, and places a right angle into one of them for good measure.

Take this other wonderful example. This woman’s name is Yukiko, pronounced You-key-koh, if you read it English, right? Now if you saw this the Kanji for it and spoke Japanese, you’d probably think it was Ayako, and in most cases you’d probably be right. Except that you’re WRONG! Yukiko’s name has NO RELATION TO WHAT THE KANJI ACTUALLY MEANS. This makes even less sense than the previous (and still wildly outrageous) Stalin-q-fine example. This is like me writing my name is Baphomet, and saying that it’s still pronounced IAN!

As a usability nut, this smacks of stupidity. Unfortunately, being in their country of origin it would be rather difficult to lead any sort of rebellion. I’d like to learn the language, but that’s going to be rather difficult, as truly understanding kanji is like turning my back on science to pick up Alchemy, where black is white, gold comes from lead, and I can squeeze blood from a stone.

Like today…

Every now and then, as part of my job, we are required to receive packages for the company in our classrooms.  Usually, from the Kuro-Neko Takubin, or Black Cat Transport.  Today, the Black Cat showed up at my door with 6 packages, and six delivery slips to be signed.  I say signed because usually a signature will suffice for them as proof of delivery.  Not today, said the Black Cat, asking once again for my hanko.  After checking my bag, and finding my hanko not in it’s usual place, I was a little taken aback, not sure what to do.  Clearly this feline needed to drop the packages off as he was already unloading them into the classroom.  I told him that I had none, but he smiled, and said it was fine, motioning to a pile of novelty stamps reserved for stamping the student’s books for good work!

Taken further aback, I pick up my stamp of choice, featuring the internet famous “Kuma”, or more commonly known in America via 4chan, Pedo-Bear…

I then proceed to stamp all six documents with said stamp.

I’ll say it again to let that sink in.  I stamped 6 legally binding delivery notification slips with the likeness of the mascot for lolita complexes.

I think I deserve an internet award or something.   I wonder if I can have that stamp registered to me on the Japanese name/hanko registry…