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).
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.
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