Why am I here?

This is a fundamental philosophical question that has bothered mankind for 10 years, or perhaps even longer. As a rural JET, this question bothers me constantly. I am often asked, "why did you some to Tonami?" by Japanese people. I can only answer that it was a cruel twist of fate. The JET program makes it very clear that, while you can request to be in a certain area or town, it will by no means take that into consideration. Nor will it give an apology or even a simple polite explanation as to why they decided to place you on the edge of the world. Having lived in Japan for almost one year, I feel a great sense of debt to the three host families that put me up. My reasoning seemed logical. I realise they don't want me to resume my previous life, but I asked to be placed in the Kanto region, preferably within a day-trip travellable distance. The Kanto region is huge, covering about 8 prefectures and encompassing hundreds of JETs.

Needless to say, Toyama is not one of those 8. On the map, it looks close enough to Tokyo. The only problem is this wee thing called the JAPANESE ALPS! I have come to accept this fact, and I try to make a visit every few months.

Take a look at this website for Tonami city. http://www.city.tonami.toyama.jp/

Do you notice anything suspicious, especially in the banner area?

Tulips?
It may sound far-fetched to you, but I have long suspected that the reason I am in Tonami is for a flower. This is a great shame of my masculinity. Tonami is famous for Tulips. (the following explanation may be inaccurate, if not completely false. It comes from my unreliable memory, of a Japanese guy talking to a group of school children when I was "supervising" about 6 months ago).

At the end of WW2, a man in Tonami started planting tulips. He liked tulips. Tonami, with the cold winters and the warm spring has the ideal growing conditions for tulips. This man was against the war, and he wanted to promote peace with the tulips. I'm not quite sure how he thought he would achieve this, but lets continue this uncredited history lesson... Over the years, tulips became popular in Tonami, to the extent of becoming the prefectural flower. A tulip park was built, complete with a garish tulip shaped building. Soon, a tulip festival was established, and it quickly became the identity of the entire prefecture, not just Tonami. 15 years ago, Tonami signed a sister-city agreement with Lisse, a small city in Holland, known for its flower markets.

For those of you who are new to the game, I am Dutch, and I still speak Dutch. Dutch Dutch Dutch. And this is why I long suspected I was put in Tonami.

Last week, the trip from Lisse arrived. In the preceding month, I was often reminded they were coming, and asked to come help translate and join certain events. Eight school children, aged between 12 and 13, two adults, and not a single word of Japanese between them. The problem is, all of them speak outstanding English, better than most Japanese English teachers. (a reminder that we JETs must be doing something wrong). So, most people were able to communicate with English.

Why is this a problem, you ask? Well, this one week, out of two years, is my reason for being in a place I never wanted to be. One week out of 104. And I wasn't even useful as a Dutch speaker. Basically, this means that my reason for existing (in Tonami), is a non-reason.

The next night I was invited to a student's house. They were hosting some of the Dutch kids, and really wanted me to come along to help smooth things over. I wasn't aware, but it wasn't just dinner: this was a kid's party. 4 Dutch kids, 10 of my Japanese students, and me, in the middle, as chaperone. The table was laden with kid's party foods, pizza, chips, chicken, sushi... and fizzy drinks. These tweens and teens were divided not only by gender, by nationality and awkwardness. Only once the soda put the kids on sugar highs, things started going along okay. But it was such an odd night. Firstly, being invited to my student's place... I don't even know if that is allowed. (well, I suppose it would be better than inviting a student to my place). It was also a reminder that I am 10 years too old for this. It was so awkward.

There was also a BBQ the next night. More free food and being reminded that I had no reason to be in Tonami.

The following night, I was asked to go to another host family's house for the same reason. They were hosting the 2 Dutch adults, could speak nearly no English, and were very concerned for their guests. So concerned, in fact, that they prepared a Japanese banquet. I have mentioned the "enkai" parties which involve expensive food and a lot of drink, but they were all done at restaurants and venues. This was all prepared at their private home. Unbelieveable.

Among the other guests were 10 people from the Board of Education. A fantastic party, to the extent I almost forgot I was supposed to be a translator. This was the adult's version of the sugar high, and conversation came fast and naturally, often through me. The guests, tired, retired to their bedrooms, and we kept drinking. Remember, it was a sunday night. Eventually we left, by means of sober driver taxi company...

... and went to a bar. Yes, my own board of education, including my supervisor, took me drinking until midnight on a sunday night. During deep and meaningful conversation, it finally slipped out, what I had suspected for so long: It was no co-incidence that I came to Tonami.

On my stumble home, I finally saw the answer to my existence (in Tonami). It's amazing that sometimes the most profound truths can only be seen through the blurred vision from the bottom of a beer glass.

Unfortunately, I forget what the answer was. I guess I'll have to get to the bottom of another beer.

Japanese Nature

Where I’m from (I vaguely remember this place to be called “New Zealand”), seclusion is paradise. For example, when we used to go to the river, we would keep driving further and further upstream until we’d find a spot where no-one else is. It usually isn’t difficult to find these spots. Deeply rooted in greed and a distant longing for a one-ness with nature, there is nothing like having a whole beach to yourself. And if anyone else comes and crashes your beach the whole beach experience is ruined.

The Japanese are also said to be very proud to be close to nature. They claim the indigenous Japanese religion plays a large factor. Apparently, according to this thinking, ever object in nature has its own god, about 8 million in all. However, usually the Japanese appreciation only comes in the form of writing gay little poems. Pets are uncommon, I have never experienced so much air-conditioning, and there is a mortal fear of nearly all non-fluffy animals.

Speaking of fluffy animals, there is a TV show that I watch quite often. A weekly segment involves a Japanese celebrity (preferably a half-white female celebrity), living with a strange animal for a few days. It’s like Big Brother: Animal Edition. In the Japanese way (of nature appreciation), the celebrity doesn’t go and live at the zoo. Oh no. They build a house, complete with gaudy curtains, and they share the flat. So far I have seen shows involving a girl living with koalas, a tiger, a hippopotamus, an Alpaca, a turtle, a sloth, a beaver and a monkey. They just do everyday things, like go shopping...

But back to the point at hand... This somehow shows the nature of Japanese nature appreciation. It has to be clean (I have not seen on any of those shows the animals pooping, or the celebrities cleaning up the poop) It has to be on their terms. I remember going “camping” 4 years ago in Japan. This involved driving into the wilderness, where there was a log cabin, with all the luxuries of a real house. In fact, there were many log cabins. It was like a neighbourhood of people who don’t normally live there. (the nature experience was enhanced by one guy running around with a can of insecticide: outside)

I don’t think I have had anything similar to having a whole beach to myself, in all my time in Japan. It might be the population density, but I think it is something else. This began to show itself during the phenomenon of...

Hanami (lit. “flower look”)

Hanami refers to cherry blossom appreciation, usually by means of a picnic at a park, with food and drink and family and friends. It sounds very pleasant, especially with the fresh spring weather after a long winter. In reality, there is a 2 week window where everybody wants to go to the park. It is like a locust plague of camera-wearing picnickers. The park in Takaoka, a nearby city, is apparently famed for its blossom. This simply meant the park was completely full. There were coach buses parked outside. Coach buses! To see flowers! Inside the park, it took a long time to find a place where we could even sit. Everywhere were people with mats, picnic baskets, tupperware, drinks, umbrella’s, games, children, small dogs... So, we too had our picnic and drinks, played some games and I played some songs on the ukulele. And that’s when, I think I understood. Sure the flowers are pretty, but it’s not about that. The atmosphere of the park was so pleasant. Everyone was happy. It was like a family concert, and the flowers were singing... and playing happy music. It was one of those rare times in Japan where everyone relaxes a little.

It doesn’t matter that this park, filled with cherry blossom trees, will soon be cherryblossomless for another 50 weeks. Because, it’s not about mother nature. It’s about human nature.

Celebrations

Spring is a time of rebirth. When the flowers emerge from their hibernation and herald on a new year on glorious splendour.
Schools in Japan are the same. I had to dust off my tie and suit jacket (I only have the one of each), because lets ceremony!

1. A few weeks back we had to farewell the 3rd year students at our school. They were really a great bunch of kids, and everybody wanted their graduation ceremony to be perfect. However, before this ceremony, the younger students put on a　Thank-you ceremony for the graduating class. This was rehearsed for several days, as far as I know. It was sweet. They all seemed so shy, as if they didn’t want to do it. The younger students performed skits, which were so terrible, it made them funny. There was more elbow nudging than 12 rounds of Thai kickboxing.. Following that was a quiz, and an over-sentimental slideshow, which would’ve been nice, except the projector wasn’t functioning properly.

2. Then came the graduation ceremony. Even I was present for the practices. Well, they weren’t “practices” as much as “full dress-rehearsals”. I did well to disguise the fact that this was highly amusing. The students and teachers were fully dressed up, as was the hall- right down to the bonsai up on stage (maybe it was graduating too). Every single detail was rehearsed: The school brass band, the speeches by the students, the speech of thanks to the parents by the Vice Principal and the Principal’s speech of advice to the graduating students... The graduating students were at the practice too! That kind of deflates the speech, don’t you think? Furthermore, the graduating students practiced accepting their diplomas. The actual diplomas!

On the actual morning (after a half hour of learning how to stand up, sit down, and how to clap), it all went off perfectly. There were the 4 groups of people: teachers, parents, students, graduating students and the distinguished guests (including, I believe, a fireman). Some of these dignitaries made some boring speeches from deep down in the beaurocracies. In the end, I actually felt slightly bad for making fun of the rehearsals, as it was a very tasteful, and at times, tearful occasion. I actually found myself shouting to myself “noooooo”, as my favourite student accepted her certificate... (yes I have favourites...).

That night, we teachers all had a drinking party... Just the usual: a lot of alcohol, and food I wouldn’t normally eat on purpose. Of course, this was on a school night.

Now, this was only the beginning of the ceremony season. For sanities sake, I will quickly skim over these, but just keep in mind, the same attention to detail was taken in each one.

3. I also go to primary (elementary) schools. See, in New Zealand, when we finish school one year, we just don’t come back the next. We certainly don’t “graduate”. For us, the word “graduate” is a very important word used in times of great achievement and is celebrated by wearing a ridiculous hat. We generally feel that not choking ourselves on a crayon should not carry this honour. However, this is why Japan is so much ahead of the rest of the world; even 11 year olds “graduate”. The ceremony was mostly the same as before. Or, I assume I didn’t miss anything by dozing off.

4. I go to two primary schools. Both ceremonies were held on the same day, so I quickly drove off to the 2nd school. Perhaps on behalf of oversight, I had no designated seat with the teachers at the 2nd school, so they put me down by the dignitaries. The dignitaries, speakers and speeches were exactly the same; I simply had a different viewpoint to sleep from.

5. The school term finished a few days later. This, naturally, required another ceremony. Speeches and bowing..

6. I am also gaining another elementary school. Hence, I needed to be present at their New Teacher Ceremony. This time, I actually had a part to play, as I had to make a speech. The students had been forewarned about having English lessons from a genuine foreigner, and the effect of me entering the hall and being seen was electric. Gasps of “kakkoii” accidentally emerged from many mouths. It was the only time I can remember at any of the ceremonies (and there are several more to come) that the formal atmosphere was broken.

7. The new teachers at my main school also needed to be initiated. Bowing and speeches, and another drinking and eating party followed that night.

8. With the short spring holidays over, there needed to be, of course, an opening ceremony. Speeches and bowing.

9. Naturally, as our school is getting a new shipment of new students, we need them to be initiated too. Since they were all from the same school in this small town, it was basically identical to the 2nd elementary school graduation, except the uniform had gone from 3 years too small, to 3 years too big.

10. The teachers who left our school, came back to give a final farewell speech.

At the end of it all, I think I can see the value in all these ceremonies. An ignorant outsider might say that it’s a waste of time, and they may as well condense all these ceremonies into one super ceremony. But I’m not an ignorant outsider. I’m hoping that I can ride out the rest of my remaining 15 months left on my contract by going to these ceremonies. Although, with all the bowing, sitting and standing up, I don’t think my vertebrae could handle it. And really, neither could my sanity. I don’t want to jinx myself and speak to soon, but I am glad that ceremony season is over, and that my suit and tie can go back into hibernation.