What have we learnt from 2006?

This year has been a very eye opening experience, and although I've made a lot of stupid comments, I can't pretend I haven't grown as a person. Coming here on a whim (and a plane), to a small town in a part of Japan no-one has heard of, to live on my own and try to teach English to about 600 kids has been a great experience, and I would like to share some of what I have learned.

Things are often not as they seem, especially in Japan. This is not a new lesson, but maybe it is one you need to experience for yourself. A while back, I bought myself a lamp. I really enjoyed having this lamp. Halogen lights start to drive me crazy after a while, so I was annoyed when the bulb blew. This started off a series of excursions to find a replacement light bulb. Not sure exactly which one I needed, but while keeping my manly integrity of not asking for help, I bought 2 replacements. I got home and tried them out. Neither worked. They were frosted bulbs, so I lightly tapped them and heard the rattle of a broken light. It was annoying, but probably my own fault. In retrospect, I wasn't very careful with them on the way home.

A few days later, I went to another store and this time, asked for help. The guy was helpful, and sold me a 2 pack. This time, I was sure I got the right bulbs. I got home, and neither worked, and had that now-familiar broken-bulb rattle. I was annoyed. Not only did my lamp not work, I now had 5 broken light bulbs lying around (Now is not the time to discuss the rubbish/recycling system in Japan). A few days later, sick of not having a proper lamp, I went and bought a new desk lamp, with bulb included. Unbelievable. It didn't work either. By now it was getting ridiculous, and I was no longer amused. The next day I went to the supermarket and chose a new bulb, this time with no frosting. It was definitely intact. I walked back to the checkout, carrying the bulb as if it were a terrorist bomb. I was terrified it would break at any moment. I cringed when the checkout girl manhandled it and put it into the shopping bag. I paid, and immediately checked it. 'My baby is fine', I thought.

I was so scared by this point, I even drove home carefully. Understand this, I drove extra carefully because I didn't want to break a light bulb. I got home, sneaked inside, inserted the bulb, plugged the lamp in, flicked the switch… nothing. The light bulb was visibly still intact. The same what I thought was a broken-bulb rattle confirmed that I now had in my possession, 6 perfectly fine light bulbs. 'The lamp must be broken', I surmised, as I resolved to leave it until next year.

(Before reading on, try and guess what the problem actually was…apart from me)

Last night during my big end-of-year apartment cleanup, I happened to stumble across the answer. Japanese apartments have complicated fuse boxes, which, in my apartment, isn't covered (hey! it's not a box at all!). It turns out the fuse for the particular power socket for my lamp was switched off. I vaguely remember hitting the fuse box with my guitar in a mad morning rush to get to school on time. (I didn't).

Looking back, wandering around the shops with a perfectly fine light bulb, trying to find a replacement… Buying a new lamp…The overall ridiculous and unnecessary lengths I went to amaze even myself… I think there was supposed to be a point to this fascinatingly mundane story, apart from highlighting my daftness, and my complete lack of masculine electric device competence…

At least now we have an answer to "how many Ruben's does it take to change a light bulb?".

Answer: Only one Ruben, but it requires 6 bulbs and 2 weeks.

Happy New Year everyone!

Ah, I love Christmas. That special time of year you spend at work with your workmates who never talk to you. That one time of the year you can sit at your desk all day long and do nothing productive. It really is a Christmas to remember.

I really don't mind too much. Being brought up by Dutch, I never really believed in Santa. Saint Nicholas and Santa in the same month. If it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is. I clearly remember my older neighbour telling me that it was your parents who read your Christmas wish-list and drink the milk and cookies. I wasn't shocked. I think, somehow, I already knew. I was much smarter than those fools who still write to Santa at 8 years old. Also, being brought up in New Zealand for the summer Christmas. Parents have a much harder job lying to their children to 'keep the magic of Christmas alive'. My parents, thankfully, weren't that dedicated.

To me, Christmas is a time where you avoid shopping areas even more than usual, and you have a day off. Okay, there are some exceptions, as Christmas is a very bust day at the office for certain essential public services such as hospitals, police and churches.

But no… Christmas did not come to Japan… It is just another day at work. I could've taken a day off, but there would be nothing to do, and besides, that isn't the point. It is just strange because the Japanese, in their efforts to be just like America (only cleaner, and less fat) also go crazy around Christmas, just like normal countries. It is completely commercialised (which is ideal in Japan as most people think a cross is just a pretty design to hang from a cheap, 3% real silver necklace), shops have been blasting carols for the whole of December, and there was even an old white guy dressed as Santa at the mall. Where they found an old white guy in this prefecture, I don't know. They could've imported it, of course.

However,HoHH there are two major differences I have discovered. Santa doesn't live on the North Pole, but in Finland. This is rather mysterious, but it is near fact in Japanese Santa folklore. Secondly, presents are opened on Christmas Eve. I think this has to do with the fact that everyone has to work or go to school on Christmas day, but when you think about it, this would mean that they open presents before Santa actually gives them. That is some classic Japanese efficiency.

So the first premise of my idea of Christmas was ruined. I had to work. The other one, avoiding shopping areas more than usual, also went out the window. It was a silly mistake. Its easy to forget its Christmas here sometimes, partly because I hang out a lot with a Christmas-hating New Zealander and a Jew. The afternoon after a night out which finished at 6:30AM, the Jew and I decided to go somewhere for coffee. In our town, that inevitably means a minimum half-hour drive. So we drove to perhaps the biggest mall in the prefecture. As we saw the mall on the horizon, we realised our fatal mistake. It was Christmas Eve. The mall looked more like Mecca. It was a 15 minute struggle to get a parking space, and twice as long to leave.

However, I have not gone through a year without celebrating a Christmas of sorts. The New Zealand Association of Toyama prefecture threw a swanky Christmas party. Needless to say, I was the only New Zealander there. I went to this party with a healthy amount of scepticism. You see, these things are moth lights for people I call "Eikaiwa (English conversation) sluts". Especially in Toyama prefecture, English speakers are very rare, so many go to conversation classes, and try to find a foreign person to talk at. I mean, I don't mind speaking English to Japanese people, but they will have to pay.

Materialistically, it was a great party though. It cost only about 10$ US (double for non-foreigners… for once, racism is in my favour. It is sweet being a minority sometimes). It was an all you can eat and drink, and much of it was imported goods. I easily regained my losses. And surprisingly, I wasn't a speech practice target. It was worthwhile going, but the concerning thing was how New Zealand was represented.

This picture is of the display at the front. Australians were also invited. A koala is fine for that… But a sheep for New Zealand is practically an insult. I can see the New Zealand Association of New Zealand is doing some fine P.R. work. However, Christmas is no time for bitterness, so I will finish by wishing you all a better Christmas than I had.

In Japan, it's nearing the end of the year. You know what this means: another excuse to drink heavily. The Japanese take their end-of-year parties very seriously, to the point of ridiculousness. Having just got over the worst of my hangover, I feel ready to tell my story.

Because of this party, the school actually closed at 5:30. That never happens. I once stayed behind, playing on the computer and observing the teachers. I really don't think they do any work; it's more of a "see who caves and goes home first". It was me who caved just after 5:30, but the teachers are professionals, and I wouldn't be surprised if some days they stay at their desk until the morning, staring out the other teachers.

So the school closed at 5:30, and all the teachers, the office ladies and even the lunch ladies (who rarely leave their kitchen/cellar) climbed onto the bus. There seems to be a strict class system at Japanese schools, where the Principal is treated like a royal corgi, and the lunch ladies are spat on. This day was special, the lunch ladies were allowed to ride on the bus with normal people. Taking a coach bus and a driver to the destination doesn't seem like a bad idea. Unless you consider that the place was a literal 5-minute drive away.

On the way there, we had a rest stop. It seems a little excessive, but I went along with it. The day was already strange enough, and I wasn't questioning anything anymore. A teacher said to me, "leg spa". I think he meant "foot spa". It was really odd: me and 7 guy teachers sitting on an outdoor park bench/pagoda with their feet in a pool of hot water. Also, since it is winter, there was a nice hot/cold contrast going on.

Finally we got to the destination. Generally, these things are done at traditional Japanese restaurants where they serve raw fish, or whole fish with a variety of terrified gaping faces. Furthermore, beer and sake is freely distributed, and your glass is never allowed to be empty. In western countries, people like to display their drinking prowess by building empty beer can towers, or by amassing a big collection of empty bottles. The Japanese way everyone gets equally drunk, and makes it impossible to know how drunk you really are.

Not drunk enough, it turns out. There was a presentation of the top 10 ten news items for the school. It was quite entertaining. The person the news was aimed at was given an empty bottle to use as a microphone, and they had to make a speech. Anyhow, it was only a supplementary to the top 10, but I did get a mention. It was "Ruben's card tricks were very wonderful", or words to that effect. In this situation, the only thing you can really say is: "pick a card, any card". This is an example of why I am so good at my job. It was a high-pressure situation with a big audience, including the royal corgi, and I had to overcome the obstacle of being drunk. It worked out for everyone; they were entertained, and I didn't have to speak into an empty bottle.

It was a good party. It is just nice that for once, the teachers don't have to pretend to be busy at work. Also, I got to thank the lunch ladies for all the good work they do. Next was the '2 ^nd level'. It's basically the same thing, except only the male staff came. More food, more beer, more sake, only by this point, I don't think many others were drinking anymore. My motto is, if its there, drink it. (This is another reason why I did not enjoy the leg spa… I think my motto needs revising). When I got back to my town, I had a 3 ^rd level. You can always have some more sake. In all, it was a brilliant night.

The best part about the night, however, must be the timing. It was on a Thursday. And Friday morning was for the closing ceremonies. 90 minutes of hangover hell, in a cold gymnasium… It is the Japanese way… (Stupid.)

Life as a professional educator in Japan

So you think just anyone can do what I do? "What qualities does Ruben possess that I don't?", you're thinking. Maybe you've even decided you want to come to Japan too… Whatever. I realise that so far, I haven't detailed my job much past "sharpening pencils". There is, naturally, much more that I do in a working week, although pencil sharpening is a large part of what I do. (This is not to say that I am entrusted to sharpen pencils belonging to my colleagues. Not yet anyhow.)

The average working week begins on Monday. Yes, Japan has the same days of the week that most English speaking countries have. I snooze both my alarms a minimum of 5 times. I usually breakfast on bread, which, as all Japanese people know, is what all foreigners have. I also, unusually for Japan, shower in the morning. They can make a pet robot dog, but the Japanese have still yet to uncover the simple pleasure of a morning shower, (for oneself, and nearby others).

I arrive at school, 10 minutes late, and 40 minutes later than all teachers, office ladies, lunch-ladies, school nurses, gardeners, pool guys, and all students. Yes, the students all come to school a full hour before any classes start. Don't ask me; I don't know what they do either. If I had to guess, I would think they would be getting a few hours of work in at a sweatshop. I mean, you don't just become the 2 ^nd largest economy in the world by accident.)

Two mornings a week I "teach" at different elementary schools. I used the "Sarcastic Speech Marks", because I firmly believe that you can't possibly learn a language in one class per month. It would be like trying to lose weight by dieting one day per week. So I figure that my main responsibility is to entertain, under the guise of education. This month, being December, I have been playing "we wish you a merry Christmas" on the guitar. It is one of the less cheesy x-mas songs around, but trust me, after playing it 5 times over in 4 different classes, it gets mightily annoying. I mean, that is nearly 15 times in one morning. But then, what would Christmas be without the Christmas carol-induced psychotic fantasies?

I do have a small anecdote about teaching at elementary schools. I don't mean to brag, but this story does prove that I am in fact, the greatest teacher in the world. I was "teaching" animal names. The cards I used happened to include a dragonfly. This is quite a rare word for Japanese kids, so it took quite a bit of explaining. I then broke the word up. "Dragon", I said. "Dragon Ball Z" shouted the majority of the boys. "Fly", I said, as I lifted a clenched fist into the air, opened my hand, and a fly escaped. It was surreal. What happened was, while the boys were showing off their English by shouting out "Dragon Ball Z", a fly happened to land just in front of me. I seized the opportunity, and the fly. The effect of releasing that fly was electric. The class broke out into spontaneous applause.

Now ask yourself: "can I really do what Ruben does?"

The majority of my week is spent at a middle school of 13-15 year olds. These classes are what most people on the Jet Programme do. Basically, we sit in on English classes where a Japanese English Teacher teaches rigidly from a bad textbook. The foreigner (that would be me), reads aloud deep and meaningful passages and dialogues from this textbook. I don't mind doing this so much. It is much like a poetry recital. Here is an actual piece of text:

Jim: Hi Yuki.

Yuki: Hello Jim.

Jim: Yuki, you look great in that sweater.

Yuki: Oh, no… not really.

(this is the 2^nd stanza)

Yuki: Mike, can I ask a question?

Mike: Sure. What is it?

Yuki: Well, Jim is always saying nice things to me. Is he in love with me?

Mike: Oh, … I don't know. Maybe he's just very polite.

Do you see what I mean? It is very much like poetry, only poetry is much more subtle. At this school I also teach my own classes. Not on my own, but I do have creative control. Its like being the actor/director, but you don't own the movie. For these classes, the students want to just play games and have fun, and the teachers want me to help them practice what we learned earlier. My students are too young to be taught pickup-lines, so my solution is to entertain everyone, including the teacher. What can I say? Its what I do. I often bring my guitar to play some songs, I will do card tricks if I need to. And if all else fails, they can line up to stroke my hair.

But mostly, since I am not a real teacher in anyone's eyes, I sit around at my desk. I have had whole days where all I do, professionally, is consume lunch. That is fine by me, as the school lunches are fantastic at my school. You get 3 bowls of either rice, bread, soup, meat, fruit, salad, fried stuff, and always we get a small carton of milk.

Also, once per week, I teach an afternoon at a kindergarten. I rotate between 4 different schools in my town. This means, that I teach every singe child under 15 who lives in this town. I am probably the only foreigner they know, apart from the guy I replaced… although, to be honest, I'm not sure that many people realise that I'm a different guy. I'm still called "Nathan" on a regular basis. I guess they have a point: all foreigners do look the same.

Anyhow. The kindergarten classes. These are the highlight of my professional week. Sure, most of the kids don't know the difference between Nathan and me, but then, they probably couldn't pick their own father out of a police line-up. I show up and entertain them for half an hour. However, they are so young and cute, they probably entertain me more. Like when I said I'm from New Zealand. "Disneyland!!!" they cried out in jealousy at my country of birth… Then they invite me back after 10 minutes to have snacks. Also, I get a 2 ^nd carton of milk this day. It really is the best day of the week.

I hope now that I have explained my professional life, you all have a better idea of what my job entails, and that you have gained a much deeper respect for me, and what I do.

…

… No, I thought not.

I would like to start off by apologising for my lengthy absence from Ruben in Japanland. I do have a very good excuse, and that is, I have finally immersed myself completely into Japanese society, every day at work is the same as the one before, and no-one considers me to be foreign anymore. Life in Japan has become rather tedious.

I would also like to add, for good measure, that the weather here is wonderful, the sky is purple, and Steven Seagal is a wonderfully talented actor.

Now we have gotten rid of the gullible people, lets begin. The real reason I haven't been updating my web log is because of a little Japanese test run held once a year worldwide. I famously failed last year by 0.75 of a percent, so I was extremely devoted to passing this year. So devoted, in fact, that every moment I wasn't teaching, preparing for classes and commuting between schools and home… every moment I wasn't playing basketball, going shopping, cooking or going to all-you-can-drink bars on weeknights, I was studying. Such was my commitment to passing.

The test came around much too soon. It wasn't so bad. The test site was filled with so many foreigners like Japan hasn't seen in 62 years. It was nice to be reminded that, contrary to popular belief in Japan, not all foreigners speak English. Whether I'll pass or not… It would be nice to not have to study for this test for a third year. I'll let you all know when I find out. The good thing about Japanese people is their promptness. The results will be announced promptly in February…2009.

As I may have mentioned once before, but even if I did I wouldn't expect you to remember, I joined the basketball club in Tonami. Ironically, the team name is "Tonami Basketball Club". I have been training with them for a few months now, twice a week. There have been two practice games, which I have been unable to attend due to being classed as an "import player", and scheduling problems, but I was really itching to play in a proper game. It has been over a year since my last game….

Finally I got the call. It was the prefectural knockout tournament. Our team is traditionally very strong, so we entered in the 3 rd to last round. I eagerly paid the US$ 360 for my uniform. It's expensive, I know. But the uniform is really nice, and it has two sets. Besides, joining a team even in New Zealand is expensive.

So the game day arrived. I wasn't on the starting five, which I wasn't shocked by. They were a good team without me. However, the game did not start off too well for us. The oppostion's centre [for the basketball illiterate, this means the huge, big dude that every team should have if they want to win a basketball game] was killing us. After 6 minutes of this punishment, we were a few points behind. That's when I got my first game time. Being the biggest [equal] guy on our team, I was marking the opposition's centre. Within 10 seconds, I had stolen the ball off him, passed the ball to a team mate, and ran down the court for an easy 2 points. It was an epic debut play.

From here on, the game was a blowout. My team gained confidence, the other team looked demoralised. We won comfortably by 40 points in the end.

Now I know that in Japan, it is very easy to become big-headed/overconfident/up-yourself/an asshole, especially when it comes to sport. I did realise the opponent was really not so strong, and I was looking forward to playing a better team.

Well, that never eventuated. See, as it turns out, the Japanese test was at the same time on the same day as the semi-final. I was torn, but the nerd in me eventually won. And our team lost. What I wasn't aware of was that this was the last tournament until next season. Meaning, my basketball career in Japan lasted all of one game. It also means I have a yet unused, mint condition uniform lying around. My next game might be around the time my test results come back. Promptly.