Edokko

 Yikes, it's been a while! I'm so sorry not to have much to share these last few months - or rather, I have tons, but have been so caught up I haven't written any of it!

Last Monday, my second novel launched in paperback and as a Kindle Unlimited exclusive.

I began working on Edokko when I was newly back in Canada and truly felt the sting of leaving Japan behind. It's a joy to see it finally in print, and the publishing process brought me back to those early days (don't miss the cameo of the Japan Foundation's Japanese-Language Institute Kansai, where incoming Osaka JETs gathered for language lessons when we first arrived!) and the ups and downs of expat life. I still miss it very much.

Available now in paperback and ebook format

 

Lily Jennings is Going. To. Japan.

Sixteen and on top of the world, she's beyond excited to be setting off for an entire year as an exchange student in Tokyo. Fashion and fun are foremost on her mind as she arrives ready to meet her new host family and embark on a grand adventure, livestreaming all the way.

What Lily isn't expecting, however, is for her urban host family to cancel at the last moment and leave her hanging with nowhere to live. She's shipped off to the small town of Ajimu (sorry, where!?), a billion miles from anywhere cool and exciting, with a neurotic host sister, no chances for romance, straight-up-vile classmates and a microscopic community watching over her every move.

Too bad for the people of this small town—nothing's going to hold Lily back when she wants something!

Find it on Amazon or your favourite retailer via http://edokko.lorengreene.com!

Small-Town Adventure

For my 2011 National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) project, I decided to write a story about small-town Japan. I had written a story set in Tokyo for a previous year, and I wanted to go in a different direction, even though I had very little experience with small-town life. (〇〇 City is not exactly the size of Osaka, but it's very, very far from being inaka.)

I enjoy research - I'm the sort of person who will get caught up for hours on a winding path of Wikipedia articles. I particularly like learning about urban development, and trains. (I probably have a massive article due in the near future about our train journey from Hokkaido to Kyushu taken in February.) So for me, not knowing much beyond the JET Journal perspective on inaka life was not a deterrent, but a challenge!

While preparing for NaNo this time, I decided to choose a place I was interested in, and then do the research to make the setting plausible. I had of course lived in Osaka and I had written extensively about Tokyo the previous year, so it was time to go further afield, and there was an obvious first choice. I'd recently re-read Ash by Holly Thompson (set partially in Kumamoto), and also discovered the blog nipponDAZE, which chronicles JET life in Oita-ken in the 90s. Kyushu was right up my alley, and I was sure there had to be a town somewhere near Beppu - where Emily and I spent New Year's in 2010 - that a disillusioned exchange student might find her calling in. A few Google searches of JET blogs in Oita turned up a match with a population short of 8,000 people and no train station of its own. At the time, it was not available on Google Street View. (It is now, if you want to have a look.) I made email contact with a JET alumni who had a fabulous website - I'm sure Joel never expected anyone would try to write a novel based only on his blog's descriptions of his town- and started from there.

As with any NaNo project, of course, November ended and then I was slammed with the JLPT, prepping for Christmas, nengajo, and the usual writer's burnout that comes when you devote 30,000 words to a topic and then realize you don't know where the story is going. So I never quite finished the tale, though I intend to go back and revisit it for NaNo 2015. 

Brother Google watches over our travels.

With that said, my small-town novel was at the forefront of my mind when I planned my two weeks in Japan this past February. In 2011, I often daydreamed about quitting my telephone job and moving to Kyushu to write the great Japan-set YA novel, living at Khaosan Beppu and trading cleaning services for room and board. Or, if I had some savings, in a little one-room apartment with a tatami floor, because I'm still not over that. By 2015, though, I was at a different point in my life, and there wasn't much chance of getting a lot of time for creativity while travelling. I decided to somehow fit Kyushu - even though I had never driven a car in Japan, and our primary destination was Hokkaido - into the trip. My travelling companion had little interest in hot springs, but Kyushu was close to my heart now, and she obliged me, for whatever reason. I applied for an international drivers' license and booked us two nights in a ryokan, following our day in Kyoto. We worked an almost-nonstop pace from Sapporo to Beppu, via blue train and shinkansen, in three days. 

Alighting in Beppu, Cassie and I spent the night, then rented a car the following morning for my "research trip." (She manned the camera and is responsible for most of the photos below.) We spent four hours wandering and driving in the area without any direction at all, just exploring. At first, I really thought I was imposing, because we could have been at the Hells in Beppu by that point, or - so I imagined Cass would prefer - way back in Nakano Broadway, working the gatchapon machines. Somehow, though, it became a grand adventure. The tiny, run-down shrine on the cliffs, the bronze turtle statues, the quest to find some restaurant - any restaurant - to eat at - we were soon laughing and snapping photos of everything, getting lost, running away from adults who we thought might be suspicious of gaijin taking pictures of the school, and slowly navigating hairpin curves in the road while the super-confident local drivers leaned on their horns behind us. Oh yeah, and going through the ETC toll lane by accident and bringing all toll operations to a halt while we tried to sort out what was going on. (The rental car had an ETC broadcaster, but no card in it.) We were actually very sad to leave the town without seeing it all, but had another appointment to keep in Beppu that afternoon.

It was a gorgeous, sunny day and the highlight of the trip, particularly for Kyushu - the rain would start pouring that evening and chase us all the way back to Kansai. And a good memory. I hope if you've been to this town, you'll enjoy our photo memories of the day.

Arriving from the highway

Cassie mans the camera while I drive down what we think is the main road

Small-town feel

We're keeping an eye out for places characters might visit

These apartment buildings look like someplace an ALT might live!

We asked the GPS to take us to the post office, and so we pulled in here to decide where next

...as it turned out, we were RIGHT beside the school!

A peek inside the baseball clubhouse (?)

School view

School from the opposite side

Famous for its wine, and turtle soup. Grapes are everywhere!

Street shots

I thought this was very striking

Great mansion name!

Decided to drive over this bridge and see what was on the other side

Turtles on the bridge

Neither of us can resist torii gates

Not the same gate. This one appeared on the other side of the tunnel you see above, and leads up the mountain. We decided to climb the stairs; see what we could find

I was not expecting to find a Peace Pole here

Had we come six weeks later, this place would undoubtedly be flush with sakura

Stone tablets at Sanjo shrine

Seems to be falling into disrepair. We didn't see anyone else at all, either

Strolling on the shrine grounds

Sanjo shrine grounds

A weathered path

This river borders the town in the northwest

Back in the car to continue adventuring

A winery? Or could it be something like the Town Hall?

We drove to the next town by accident

This was a fun-looking spot!

Walking courses

On the outskirts of town, now; ready to return to Beppu

 

But first, lunch at the Konoiwanoshō

I really wanted ice cream...

 

Plenty of the special; turtle soup (I just had the dangojiru)

Thanks! See you again!

Teaching in Japan

Banners hanging at the school gates for bunkasai

I talk about a lot of cultural things on this blog, but many of my posts are not so much connected to my career in Japan as they are my after-school life. However, teaching seems to still be the #1 method people use to get started in Japan, as there are lots of companies and exchange programmes to get you there, take away some of the headaches of getting established in the Land of the Rising Sun.

I taught English in Japan as part of Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) programme. JET is a fantastic programme sponsored by three Japanese Ministries and serves not only as a way to educate schoolchildren in English, but also as a grassroots cultural exchange effort. ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers) are recruited from all over the world via a lengthy application process, followed by an intense orientation session in Tokyo, and are then dispersed all over Japan to their new schools. Junior high and high school are the most common placements, though elementary schools are slowly taking on more JETs.

When I was accepted, I received one of the most coveted placements - Osaka. Osaka no longer hires prefectural ALTs via the programme (only municipal ALTs, now), so I was very fortunate to have gone when I did, as Osaka was my first choice and has since become my second home. My three years living there were some of the best years of my life.

The JET application process is very extensive. The paper application was enormous, and required a number of documents that took time to put together. A medical self-assessment, proof of Canadian citizenship, university transcripts, a copy of my degree and letters of reference (one of which had to be from a teacher or professor) are just some of the items that had to be included for the application, due in November - to go to Japan the following August!

I had a lot of tutoring experience, which I'm sure is what pushed me to the next stage - I'd spent the summer in my third year of university doing a work experience program very similar to an ALT's job at a local school. However, I was certain I'd blown the interview when they asked questions I hadn't ever considered a possibility, like Canadian census information. Luckily, my personality seemed to make some impact, and I even managed to answer the question about location so well that I received my first choice of destination. I gave the interviewers an explanation of how my hometown dialect was so different from most Canadians' that I knew I'd feel right at home in Osaka, where the people speak in a relaxed and easy way. 

I was determined to broaden my cultural awareness - I initially hoped to join a few clubs at my school, but I felt like I would make them uncomfortable by being there, or be unable to commit the kind of time needed. My students were often at their club practices until evening - every evening! As an ALT, though, I was a de facto supervisor with the ESS (English Speaking Society), and made that my only school-related extracurricular.

In my spare time, I tried out aikido, ikebana, and yosakoi dancing for a time, and stuck with aikido for about a year, as I'd always been interested in martial arts. I returned to yosakoi after returning to Canada, as well. Through school and JET seminars I had opportunities to try out glass bead making, Noh theatre, and tea ceremony. I saw many Takarazuka theatre shows in nearby Hyogo Prefecture. I participated in holiday rituals, including setsubun, tanabata, and New Year's hatsumoude every year.

The cultural divide was very tough at points. I struggled a lot with the Japanese work ethic - work long hours, socialize with your co-workers, and keep busy even when there isn't anything to do. I was free to go at 4:30 as per my contract, but I was always the first person out the door when I did so - it was tough to stay in the office and look occupied when I was itching to go, but I felt bad saying "see you" and strolling out two hours before my co-workers. Besides the work ethic, I was the youngest person by far in the office for most of my time there. I got along well with the students because I was young and approachable and quite media-savvy - but it did set me apart from many of my co-workers.

Aside from that, I really disliked being such an obvious cultural outsider - one of the things that really did bother me about Japan was that no matter how hard I tried to understand, the sense of being "other" was always there. Fortunately, it got better with time!

The most important thing I learned about communication was that insecurity wasn't going to get me anywhere. For a long time, I didn't have the courage to try starting conversations or even going someplace where I'd encounter words that I didn't know - even the grocery store was frustrating at times.

It wasn't long before I realized my Japanese wasn't going to improve unless I used it, though, and that I didn't need to be afraid of talking to strangers - all of my best encounters came as a result of taking a chance with people. City-dwellers often keep to themselves, so many seemed unapproachable at first, but Osakans are some of the friendliest people in Japan!

By far, the thing I missed most about home was familiar foods. Even though I love Japanese food, I found myself craving "comfort food" when I was feeling down - not just my mother's home cooking, but even food from restaurants I almost never visited back in Canada! At one point, I was bringing home McDonalds 2 or 3 times a week - even though I had probably only eaten it a couple of times in the past decade. I craved the familiar, and took what I could get when it came to the selection. 

I also missed the friendliness of Canadian people, and the tendency toward helping strangers - the Japanese showed their friendliness in somewhat of a different way that I found, at times, to be quite a lot more detached. The people of Kansai (including Osaka, and Mie, where I had a wonderful local experience) are somewhat more open, but not in quite the same way as the town I'd been raised in.

Toward the end of my exchange, I visited nearby Mie Prefecture, an area I had been to just once before, despite it being so close to Osaka. It was the first time I truly felt the "small-town values" so many rural JETs speak of. While my visit to Mie was supposed to have been a day trip, a local festival prompted me to make very last-minute plans to stay the night, even though I had only the contents of my purse (a book, a pen, a Netbook and less than 6,000 yen in cash) to work with. Thanks to the attention and generosity of a local hostel owner, I had a place to rest my head and a way back to the train station at 5 o'clock the following morning in order to make it to work on time. Even though she had other guests to attend to, the hostel owner graciously made up a bed for me, a surprise guest, and offered to take me to the station by car, so that I wouldn't have to call a taxi so early in the morning. I will never forget that hospitality.

Teaching in Japan made an immeasurable impact on my life. When I returned to Canada, I knew I had to stay connected to this experience in some way - it really shaped my career aspirations, which until then had been very vague. I moved to Toronto and began working with a youth exchange program, at first as a volunteer and later as a part-time coordinator, helping high school students considering spending a year abroad. Japan is one of the most popular programs we offer, so I feel extra-confident sharing my advice with these students, since I've seen "life in a Japanese high school" first-hand!

As for my travel plans, going back to Japan to visit is in the cards for me in the next two years, I hope. I'd also like to visit Scandinavia, Europe and other parts of Asia - being abroad really opened my eyes to how many different people and cultures were out there. I want to see them all!

Christmas in October

One of many.

Yesterday, as I went out to my relatives' place for Thanksgiving (Canadian Thanksgiving is the second Monday of October), I found a box from Japan waiting there for me! 

Back when I first left Japan, I tackled that pressing issue that every expat encounters - what to take back to their home country, and how to get it there. My case was more dire than most, as I had replaced my entire wardrobe while living abroad, and I am also a voracious reader. I left Canada with just thirteen books in my suitcase and returned with two hundred. Let's be serious - no true book lover could possibly throw or give away a collection like that. I also knew that since my Board of Education was not taking on a new JET, I wouldn't have a successor to sell or give my household items to. When I handed in my final contract agreement at school, I had already started working out just how I was going to get everything home.

I'm a skilled suitcase packer, but my spacial perception isn't great, so I envisioned - wrongfully so - that I could creatively fit my most important belongings into four, perhaps five, large boxes, and give or throw away the rest. The post office was the best deal at about 14,000 yen for a 30-kilogram box. I would have liked to have used a moving or sea shipping service, as my friends did, but since I was going back to my hometown on the extreme east coast of Canada, that option wasn't available. It was pretty much the post office or nothing. 

I started out trying to be forward-thinking and responsible about my packing. In March, all the books that I wouldn't be reading before I left in July went into a sturdy Kuroneko box that topped out at 29.5 kilos (64 pounds). Then I realized that I wasn't sure how to get this box, which was more than half my weight at the time, to the post office. I strapped it to the back of my mama-chari, and then walked the wobbly five minutes to our local post office. Who told me they did not have the equipment to send via seamail.

I wobbled back to the nearby train station, parked the bike and hailed a cab to take me to the bigger post office in town. Then I decided I would find some other way to move out the rest of my stuff.

Luckily, I discovered a way, and that means that you (yes you, reading this!), if you ever find yourself moving back overseas from Japan, can do it too! The post office will actually allow you to call and schedule an at-home pickup. I went down there and grabbed a bunch of international shipping labels (for Canada, you must be very detailed in your contents description), and set a date and time a few days before my departure for the post office to come. At the time I was still thinking "Yeah, five boxes ought to do it." When the guy showed up, however, and took my five boxes' measurements, my apartment was still cluttered with stuff, and the packed boxes were overweight! I had to pull things out, and only half the apartment seemed gone. I had started with the things that I wasn't going to need during the month of July - so, of course, I had packed some pretty inconsequential stuff that I probably should have left behind, but I took thinking that I had the space. Well. 

One of those five took a long side-trip, but I'll get to that later. 

The process of sorting an entire apartment into boxes and bags.

We scheduled another pickup for two days later, the day I was supposed to moving out of the place. Needless to say, I had quite a lot on my plate already - between myself, Em and my friend Mitsu, who was going to be taking my couch, we barely got another four boxes packed up, as well as my precious kotatsu, the Gundam model kits Drew had left at my apartment en route to Mount Fuji, and the Fuji climbing stick left behind by Alec. 

When the landlord turned up to pick up the keys, along with my go-between from my school, the place was still a disaster. Embarrassing. I said we were going to need a few more hours. He said I could stay the night - I would be heading out to the airport the following afternoon. So I scheduled another post office pickup, one for after I was going to be long gone, to make sure it was all going to be done and ready. I spent the night hastily sorting tons of papers to avoid shipping home stuff I would never need again, hoping that the electricity wouldn't be cut off any minute (we had tossed an extension cord over the balcony to Emily's apartment, just in case!) and then at 4 AM, as the sun was coming up, I lay down on the bare hardwood floor for a nap. My futons and couch were already gone. When I finally stumbled out of my apartment to take my bike over to school and do a final check on my desk, I was running only on adrenaline. What I wouldn't give to have pushed back my departure just a couple of days!

When I got back from school, it was time to go. Later, Em would pack up the last two boxes and return my keys to the landlord, while I got on the plane and headed back to what I still sometimes call "my past life."

In the weeks after returning to Canada, boxes of my possessions trickled in, though it was impossible to fit an apartment's (even an 1K) worth of things into a small bedroom that already had a lifetime crammed into it. I took most of them with me to Toronto, so even now, when I visit my mother's home, it feels like I've stepped right back into my pre-Japan life. It's very odd. Since I took everything from my Osaka apartment and plopped it into my Toronto apartment, I can look around this room, and at least half my possessions and 90% of my clothes are Japanese-made, even now, a couple of years later! 

Of course, a post office move comes with its own complications, not counting the mistakes made by my poor planning. There was a box that came open in transit and lost a few items, two boxes that had the labels swapped and I opened "books and clothes" to find it full of housewares, a box that had been measured at thirty kilos and charged accordingly when it was only thirty pounds, and finally a box that didn't arrive at all. 

Two months after I left Japan, the missing one turned back up at Emily's apartment, returned to sender. It was labeled "household goods," but it contained books and shoes, and the contents of the utility closet. (Maybe this is why it was returned. Oops.) It weighed thirty kilos - too heavy to drag back to the post office on foot, so it sat there in Emily's apartment in the meantime, until she left Japan for good as well. 

She posted me that last box with a few additions - hence why it's Christmas at my apartment now, despite it being only October. As I went through the contents last night, some of those precious things that I thought were gone forever out of the ripped box and others items I had forgotten I ever owned, let alone packed, I just had this wave of homesickness and nostalgia for Japan. I know they're only things, but they were symbolic. Maybe it's the Japanese tendency to treat objects, especially beautiful or meaningful ones, with such respect. I had to pack it all away again, in preparation for our move to a new apartment at the end of this month, but the first time I drink tea out of those teacups, I'm going to take a little bit of time to really appreciate and admire these items like old friends. 

Tea and Tsukimi

Photo from Secret Teatime's Facebook Page

This past weekend, I went to a nabe and tsukimi tea party held by friends from my time abroad. At times, I really do regret spending so much time in Japan alone and wrapped up in my hobbies - as much fun as I had trying my hand at aikido, ikebana and others, travelling all over Honshu by local train, and of course wandering everywhere in Kansai on foot and by bicycle, when it came time for JET events, I was so embarrassingly out of the loop that I imagine anyone not from my year would have a hard time remembering my name. My Japanese friends were largely in Tokyo, and many local friends, JET and otherwise, returned to their lives abroad. By my third year I was living the hermit life, and I have come to regret it a little since returning. Where I was antisocial in Japan, I now go out of my way to be social back home, via cultural groups, JETAA events and now, meeting up with a few familiar faces from JET.

I didn't even realize there were so many former Osaka JETs here in Toronto! I attended a dinner last month with a group of six or so and had a great time, though the tsukimi evening eclipsed (see what I did there?)  that by far. The founders of Secret Teatime are tea fanatics and students of the Omotesenke and Youkenryuu schools of tea, respectively, and Helen did her JET tenure in a city very close to mine. In case any of you readers forgot, I am a fan of tea of all kinds, so when she invited me over for nabe and tea ceremony, I could not say 'yes' fast enough.

Friends in Toronto, you absolutely must check out Helen and Sorlie's endeavors with Secret Teatime! They are setting up a studio in Scarborough, and are offering lessons in Japanese tea ceremony in the Youkenryuu style. Watching the ceremony on Saturday was a real treat, and we enjoyed luscious dark chocolates from Ambiance Chocolat. The chocolates were handmade and amazing, and brought me back to my days making trips out to the fabulous chocolatiers and bakeries in Kyoto. I'm really hoping to make it to more of their events in future and perhaps a few lessons as I've only learned the very basics of chanoyu. My roommate is almost certainly sick of hearing me talk about tea (though she graciously supplies me with it at Christmastime!) and I have a lot to learn about it, myself, so I'm looking forward to lots more!

So You Want To Teach In Japan

Are you Japan-bound?

It's almost that time of year again, where a fresh crop of Japan-hopefuls are sending in their applications for the Japan Exchange and Teaching Programme, one of the most competitive teach-away programs out there. It's funny, because I attended the farewell reception for the 2012 JETs just a couple of weeks ago, and now here we are starting another application cycle - the process is so lengthy that it takes almost a full year to go through.

There is plenty of information out there on the steps to applying for JET, starting with the official website, and  many, many blogs to help applicants through the process. Rather than rehashing all that, I'm planning to share my own experience and tips over a small series of posts. (Note: The process has gone digital since I was on the program, so some things may not be the same as my experience in the mid-2000s!)

My initial exposure to JET was in my first-year Japanese class. An alumni (I wish I knew his name, because he changed my life!) came to visit us and share his experience teaching in Japan. Though I'd been studying for at least half a year at that point, I had never really considered actually living in Japan. After all, I'd studied French since fourth grade and was in no way inclined to pick up and move to Quebec (though, ironically, I've considered Montreal fairly recently!). After this presentation, though, I really began to think that this was something I wanted to try, so after I graduated, I took on a retail job for a year while I applied for the JET programme. My backup plan back then was Aeon and then Interac, two well-known eikawa schools that were far less competitive, but weren't nearly as highly-recommended (or well-paid) as JET. At one point, I even considered NOVA - just a few months after I arrived, however, the company went bankrupt and completely wrecked everything for their ALTs. I was so very glad I'd chosen the JET route, after that.

The toughest part is waiting, because the application process goes a little like this:

October - Applications begin to be accepted

Late November - Application deadline

January - Callbacks for interviews

February - Interviews

April  - Initial acceptance letters sent out

May - Paperwork due

June-July - Placement information sent out

July - Pre-departure orientations and paperwork due

July/August - Departure

Since the application requires a transcript and diploma, you cannot apply in your final year of university (ed: And I understand this has changed since 2007!) - you must have your diploma in hand by November, so I'm certain many JET hopefuls are discouraged by this - I know I was, but working during that year between graduation and departure did help me prepare financially for the cross-country move.

I consider myself very fortunate still to have made it on the program and gotten not only my first choice of prefectures, but a very high-demand placement, at that. So what advice do I have to offer for someone wishing to teach in Japan?

First of all, there's no question that JET is the way to go. I met so many ALTs that I can safely say my "first choice" was the better choice, even though there is a lot of work involved to go through the above process. JETs are well taken care of, frequently receive stipends and other benefits from their prefectures (unless you're in a city that's struggling with the finances like I was, heh), have plenty of vacation and sick days, don't have to worry about finding or stocking an apartment, and are paid much better than eikaiwa ALTs. The JET name is also really worth something when you return and the networking is fantastic. Not to say that the other options aren't good - they certainly are, according to many of my friends; two ladies at my school were NETs and now my friend Nicole (of the Irish Chocolate story) is back in Japan teaching under another program as well. There are many routes you can go if you aren't accepted on JET or don't qualify, but if you have the time and the skillset for the Japan Exchange and Teaching Programme, I'm always going to recommend that you try that first.

Capsule Hotels

I've always been comfortable enough in small spaces, so the concept of capsule hotels really intrigued me when I first prepared to move to Japan. I looked up information on the Internet about where I might be able to find capsule hotels around Osaka and Tokyo for my (envisioned) many nights out on the town! As it so happened, I was too much of a cheapskate to stay out overnight often when I could make the last train home, but I did have the chance to try out a few capsules while in Japan.

If you don't know what a capsule hotel is, nothing sums it up quite like a visual:

Interior of a capsule

A capsule hotel is just a place to lay your head - you're trading space and amenities for the price, which is usually in the $30 USD/CAD range. I often stayed at the above hotel (Capsule Hotel Asahiplaza Shinsaibashi) in Osaka during the nights between the JET Mid-Year Seminar, a training session held over three days more than an hour away from my apartment. The cost of the hotel (¥2,900) was more than worth saving the 3 hours of travel time heading home after a long day and then back to Abiko first thing in the morning - not to mention the ¥600+ yen each way in train fare.

Most capsule hotels do not accept women, and this was one of two that I was aware of in Osaka that did. In fact, I'm told that the womens' floor (sealed off with a lock to prevent intrusion) at Asahiplaza Shinsaibashi was much nicer than the mens', and with less snoring. The beds you see in the photo above are stacked two units high and luggage is kept in a separate locker. In the womens' area, there was a public bath, sauna, television room and reading lounge. Guests are provided with pajamas and towels, and the bathing area has toothbrushes, brushes and combs kept in a sterilizer, hair dryers, lotions, Q-tips, make-up sponges and a few other disposables. Most hotels have a few mainstays built into their capsules - usually a television, radio and alarm clock are standard; the Shinsaibashi hotel also had an interior fan and some shelves. 

Each time I visited, I made sure to take advantage of the beautiful baths at this hotel. I wasn't sure I could manage it for the first time if someone else was in the bathing room, since it was still very early on in my stay and I was nervous at being the only foreigner there. I was alone when I stowed my clothes in the bathing room lockers and managed to almost finish washing my hair before another guest, a lady in her mid-40s, came in and started to shower. She didn't even give me a second look. so after a moment my awkward feeling passed and that was that. 

That first bath was amazing. I hadn't yet experienced Spa World, and this was a whole different beast anyway; it was more of a sento (neighbourhood bath) environment. The shampoo, rinse and soap from the showers smelled gorgeous, too, and after relaxing in the bath (made of black marble) I went to the sauna to dry off. They had everything I needed to make myself comfortable for the night and the nervousness entirely passed. That evening's sleep was very, very comfortable.

Most capsules are really pretty standard, though some, like Kyoto's 9 hours, really take it to the next level. Over the next few years I tried out a few capsule hotels in Tokyo as well, including some off-the-beaten-path choices like the womens'-only VIVI Roppongi one weekend when I had taken the Seishun 18 to Tokyo on a whim and didn't have a single toiletry with me except the contents of my purse. I still regret not taking good photos of that place, since it was really fantastic.

Awful photo of the bunks at the fabulous VIVI Roppongi

It was my first time going to Roppongi, and I was rather disappointed with the area, sadly. VIVI was great, especially the rock sauna, but the next few times I visited Tokyo on a whim back I ended up back in Shibuya instead. I also stayed at the Green Plaza Shinjuku once, but their facilities weren't worth the price in comparison. It just wasn't as nice as my capsule hotel in Osaka or as the capsule beds at Khaosan in Asakusa. 

I still regret not getting to stay in a tatami capsule at Capsule Ryokan Kyoto. Next time, Japan!!

Photo of the Day - The View

I absolutely love this photo of the school courtyard, taken from a second-floor hallway window.
It always makes me nostalgic for my school and my students!

Labels

Japan's most famous anime mascot, Astro Boy

The word "Japanophile" really bothers me. So does otaku. There's really no easy word to describe a passion for Japanese culture that some people won't see as negative, and that's a shame. Do Anglophiles (admirers of English culture) feel like this sometimes?

Looking down on others makes people feel better about themselves, and among foreign residents in Japan, many are quite derisive about those who come to the country because they enjoy popular culture. The perception comes partially as a result of otaku culture in the West, which is usually associated with social awkwardness or out-and-out lunacy, depending on which aspect you happened to walk in on.

Of course, there are some deeply problematic people, and some of them are certainly enthusiastic about Japan as a hobby, or are unwavering apologists. I do think it's unfortunate, though, that people can't just enjoy things.  

I travelled on a GO Transit bus during Anime North weekend this year, whereupon turning down the airport-hotel stretch of Dixon Road, we drove into a sea of con-goers dressed up in everything from cardboard boxes to bikinis. I'm used to this stuff - the other passengers weren't. As we waited at the lights, the crosswalk looking more like Shibuya than little old Mississauga, they peered out the windows and started talking among themselves, wondering what kind of strange carnival was being held out there.

Anime fandom goes hand in hand with an appreciation for Japan, and while some otaku go the opposite way and care little about anything but the media aspect of it, many others are crazy about Japan simply for being The Place Where Anime Comes From, and have little concept of how Japanese society actually functions. 

Fortunately, still more are well-rounded and interested in other aspects of Japan, but the unfortunate trend tends to be that if you started learning Japanese because you happen to enjoy anime or manga, and that path eventually takes you to Japan, you become a target for all the foreigners who moved there because it was a great chance to supplement their party lifestyle and now hate living abroad but can't or won't go home. Then there are the holier-than-thou types who, because they appreciate the higher forms of culture (and don't get me wrong, I practised ikebana myself, and the Japanese arts are beautiful) despise pop culture on principle. 

This is a terrible way to live - I don't see the point in mocking other peoples' hobbies. The unfortunate reality, though, is that after seeing the way otaku, Japan apologists and Japanophiles are openly derided in certain JET communities, I found myself hesitant to socialize with people who seemed to be in Japan for a lark, in case they turned out to be one of these types. I probably missed out on a few opportunities to meet good people, but at the time I didn't feel up to fighting the good fight to defend why I wanted a tatami room and to send nengajo and to cook Japanese instead of Western dishes.

The word otaku doesn't have quite as much negative connotation in Japan as it did twenty years ago, luckily, but Japanese fans are even more secretive about their hobbies. When you cosplay at an event in Japan, you aren't permitted to come in costume from your hotel - you have to register and use the cosplay dressing room to change when you arrive. I suppose this, too, originates from fans not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves. But something I really liked about Japan is that it's OK to be into anime, or manga, or trains, or bentou art, or British television, or anything at all really - it's just not acceptable to be over-the-top about it. No matter what country you're in, the label's not particularly good.

These days, anyway, they're saying that 'the geeks shall inherit the earth,' and I hope that does good things for the perception of fans going forward, especially with the anime boom here in North America dropping off pretty sharply in recent years, Still, someday, I'd like to feel that my interests and hobbies aren't 'strange' to anyone at all.

Japanese High Schools in the Modern Age

The genkan area.

High school in Japan is so very different from Canada, and not just because I graduated more than ten years (!) ago. The two schools I attended as a teenager were technologically on the cutting edge, and we had a beautiful computer lab where I used to check my email at lunch every day (Yes - it was 1999!), a media room and a modern cafeteria, and LCD displays in the halls so students could read the daily school news. As a student, I learned Microsoft PowerPoint by helping my friend with the daily media broadcast. Of course, students of the 2000s would be hardly shocked by such a level of tech, but for those of us who grew up without Internet-connected computers at home or cell phones, it was the height of modernity.

Japan was a bit of a nudge backward after my arrive in the mid-2000s. I remember my dismay when I took the tour of my school and realized there was no public computer lab, and just two general-use Windows XP laptops for the English department to share between 20 teachers. As an expat excited to document her adventures, and soon enough struggling with homesickness, the Internet had become my lifeline. I needed access. (This was after WiFi hotspots became a thing in Japan, but before they were affordable.) Luckily, the department kept one of the general-use computers on the desk next to mine, so I could pull it over and use it whenever I wanted. Which...was a lot, given that there wasn't a lot of prep work for me to do when the students were on vacation. I spent quite a lot of time on Wikipedia, Canadian news websites, and eventually, teaching myself the sport of basketball from the ground up. One day I came to school and, bless whoever in the IT department allowed this, discovered that laptop had moved permanently to my desk, and a new third one sat in its former home on the public desk. My JTE, my lifeline, had arranged for it.

The department's general-use computers, scanner and printer

My neighbours occasionally indicated that they thought I was a little unsociable, and I realize now that this was a gentle hint, but my sanity was spared. Sorry, everyone.

Anyway, at my school, things worked much like they did when I was in elementary and junior high back home. Most of the time, this was just fine by me; it's not a criticism. We used overhead projectors, analog clocks. 

My biggest problem was, bar none, the lack of insulation and heating. Mind you, this was not an issue unique to school; I battled frozen extremities at home, in the train station, and really most other places as well. I was shocked how unaffected my co-workers and students seemed to be by the temperatures that totally immobilized me! To stave off the cold, I had an enormous gas stove in my classroom, which needed to be hooked up to the gas outlet in the wall and turned on a minimum of twenty minutes before the lesson. On days when my prep work took me right to the bell, myself and the students could hardly function for the first half of the lesson, so I often spent entire mornings in my classroom, reading books and breathing gas because I truly felt it was better to tolerate a gas migraine than be so cold. In the staff room, my desk was also by the window, which we kept open year-round so that the air could circulate...even in February, that window was always open. 

The school was built in the 1960s, and had a definite 60s feel to it that I loved. There was a staff photo pinned to the cabinet behind where I sat that was dated the year Heisei 6 or so (1994: 2012 is Heisei 24) and showed the school exterior painted a vibrant hospital green. We had a chalkboard in the English department that had the names and addresses of JETs long, long gone written there - I wish I had taken a photo of this before I left. My phone number was written there for years, and might even still be, since it had been handed down year after year with the apartment. I was always on the lookout for 'vintage' things at home and away, and school occasionally delivered. I loved the sign in our lounge citing the rules, dated 1984, that hadn't faded or yellowed a bit.

I thought much of the charm in my school lay in its history and when I visited Emily's OO N High School on multiple occasions, a building not even 5 years old, I knew I preferred ours, even though she had air conditioning and heat in the staff room!

A familiar hallway

This entry has turned into a bit of a ramble, but when I think about how high school here in Canada must have evolved since I graduated (I hear my alma mater now auto-emails parents whose children have not shown up for school, and all papers submitted must be typed rather than handwritten) I'm glad that Japan wasn't a shock for me in this way. My students didn't work up any fancy Photoshop projects, and they handed all their homework in hand-written. I kept my grades in a register book, not on my computer. The kids all had cell phones, but rarely did I see any other technology in class - sometimes someone would have an iPod tucked into their blazer as they left, and there was a huge hubbub over a student who got an iPhone when it first launched, but lunchtime was usually for socializing with friends! I knew by name the only girl who brought her Nintendo DS with her to school every day, because she once asked me to bring mine so that we could play together.

Maybe the reason was because the prefecture couldn't afford fancy computers and LCD screens, but I prefer to think they were subscribing to the "we got along perfectly well without those things up until now, so why does it matter?" logic. I'm no technophobe, but I found it refreshing that my school was so down to earth. Even though we have had all these great advancements in tech that have become ubiquitous in the west, they are sometimes still seen as distractions in Japan. In my school, and I suspect this was true of many Japanese schools, we kept things simple. We had rocks, and we liked 'em! 

And when I was your age, I walked 4876234 miles in the snow to school, barefoot and uphill both ways...