Wow, time really does fly as one gets older. I can't believe that it has been over five months since I last did a blog entry, and even longer since I wrote TFTC. Well, to make up for lost time, I have a few great quotes from the past little while. Just as a little warning, some of these stories are rated a bit PG, but they are great examples of life in the classroom.
A couple weeks ago, I went out for coffee with one of my former students. I'll call her "Tami." I taught her back in November 2006, and after two months at the school, she struck out on her own on her working holiday visa and got a job at a cafe. She was there up until a few weeks ago, as she prepared to return to Japan. In the sixteen months since she had left our school, her use of English had grown exponentially, and there was no lack of fluency in her. Most stunning was her knowledge of vocabulary, in particular, idioms.
Well, on this day, she met up with me at the school, and as we stepped out the front door, I noticed several of our current students watching us as we left. I gave Tami an apologetic look. "They probably think that you're my wife."
"Nah," she replied. "You're my sugar daddy."
I bought her a Tim Horton's ice cap to fulfil that statement!
On another day, some of the students in my Fluency class were congratulating one student on his recent steady relationship. While the students were giving their best wishes, I playfully threw in a sarcastic remark: "My condolences."
Of course, all the students wanted to know what it meant, so I explained the use of sarcasm, and that the comment was used in a humourous way to say, "I feel sorry for you" when someone enters a difficult situation. Now, the student whom he was dating was in another of my classes, so I knew her well, and I quickly emphasized that in truth, she was a very nice girl and I wished them well. But I wanted to use the opportunity to introduce a point in English.
Another student understood it too well. Taking a cue from Disney Pixar's Ratatouille, he added, "Welcome to hell!"
Uh, yeah.
Sometimes great quotes don't just come from the students, but teachers. We know all too well about mangling the English language and using the wrong words. Our director had to step out one day to an appointment with a physiotherapist, and when someone asked where she was, another teacher replied, "She went to see her philanthropist."
Yes, she went to check on her charities...
On another occasion, one of my students showed me why her English has been steadily improving...she has a good memory. One day, she revealed to me that she was anemic, and I suggested that maybe she didn't have enough iron in her blood, and that was probably why she was so tired.
Fast forward one week, and I was in class, but had a bit of a headache. The student looked up at me, and in a perfect monotone, said, "Maybe you don't have enough iron in your blood."
But the winner of this post comes from one of my favourite Korean students. "JJ" and I were talking over lunch one day about her internship at a bank, and how one day there was a party for the workers in a location quite far from the bank, so she went to one of her co-workers, a young man (this is important!), to ask for a lift to the party. However, JJ still hasn't got her sentence subjects, verbs, and objects in the right pattern. Instead of asking, "Could you give me a ride?", this was how it came out:
"Could you ride me?"
Class dismissed.
The anticipation that usually comes with the Christmas and New Years holidays was particularly high for me this year. In December, at different times, my wife "May" and I were privileged to have had three of my former students from Japan come to stay with us. Though the weather varied from dry cold to soaking rain, this trio of winter visitors added warmth and liveliness to our holiday season.
Our previous two visitors from Japan were my wife's former students in Hyogo, so I was the stranger to them. In this case, all three guests were students of mine, and May was meeting them for the first time. But in each case, the chemistry worked and my wife and I had a wonderful time with this friendly trio.
The first two visitors were students at my school last summer. The tall, willowy and genki "Ali" was my student for one month, and her return trip came in mid-December. She had a busy five-day stay with us, and though she spent much of it with other friends in town, it was enough time to spend a few evenings chatting and for her to make sushi for us one night. As an intermediate English student, her presence at our home made for a good language exchange, as her English practice reflected my efforts at Japanese. Ali's happy personality made for some lighthearted evenings, and she set the tone for the others to come.
Ten days after Ali went back to Japan, the petite, gentle-spirited and soft-spoken "Yulia" stayed with us the weekend before Christmas. Though she stayed for only three nights, she made an indelible impression on us. Because she and May were almost the same age, it was neat to watch them interact, as their perspectives and tastes were very similar to one another.
We took her ice skating at the local rink one afternoon, and although she hadn't skated in a long time, she showed no signs of forgetting the technique. In fact, I would argue that she was even a bit better than I was. Her backward skating was very good, indeed.
Later that afternoon, we also took her to the nearby Costco, where she got to see the huge warehouse-retailer up close for the first time. She bought a jumbo pack of hot chocolate for souvenirs, and also was impressed with the collection of Christmas turkeys!
She left us with a delightful collection of Japanese green tea, a Hello Kitty ornament for our Christmas tree, and plenty of memories.
After Christmas, I was reunited with a face that I hadn't seen for nearly two years. "Mandy" was a high school senior when I first met her at my Nova branch in Osaka in late summer 2005, and I last saw her just before she departed for university in Beppu, Kyushu, the following February. I had only taught her once or twice at Nova, but we always said hello in the hallways whenever we saw each other. In the time that followed, we maintained a steady email friendship that continued after I moved back to Canada and she moved to the southern U.S. on a university exchange program. Mandy didn't want to spend her winter break amongst the cacti in the desert, so she went on a trip to a few cities, with Vancouver as her final stop. It was also her only stop in Canada, her first time to the Great White North.
During the nine days that she was here, I took her around to different sites in Vancouver. Most notable were Metrotown shopping centre, Robson Street, North Vancouver, and Gastown. When May joined us for a few days, we went up Burnaby Mountain, where the higher altitude meant about six inches of snow on the ground. Mandy was thrilled with her first experience in Canadian snow! Afterward, we relaxed with a coffee and snack at that great Canadian icon, Tim Horton's.
May and I had a great time with her. Mandy's spoken English and listening comprehension were fabulous, most notable being the fact that she did not need subtitles when watching movies.
Speaking of movies, another of Mandy's outstanding features was that she was a HUGE patron of the arts. During her time, we watched almost a dozen DVD movies. Along with her penchant for video, we will probably remember her for her happy humming of musical tunes in our house...and everywhere else!
Thank you so much for visiting, ladies. We were very happy to have been your hosts, and we hope to see you again. Hayaku kaerimasu! Itsu demo kite kudasai!
The vocabulary game of Taboo is great for conjuring up all sorts of funny descriptions. It's the game where you work in teams, and each team's player has a word that he or she must make his team say, but without using any of the TABOO words for clues. For example, the word is truck, but the forbidden words are car, pickup, semi, and dump, so the player must find other ways to circumlocute around these to get his teammates to say "truck."
Many of my students are very imaginative with their clues. Once, the word was mouse, and the taboo words were cheese, hole, rat and trap. The student simply said "Mickey..." and her team nailed it. Another time, the word was Japan, and the forbidden words were sushi, kimono, geisha, sumo, and samurai. The student pointed at a Japanese teammate and said "You are from..."
Great job. But one incident today left everyone on the floor laughing.
It was "Tony," a confident Korean, who had to make his team say idea. He looked at the forbidden words, then pointed to his head and said, "I have no..."
Three of his teammates, in perfect sync, yelled out "IDEA!!"
A split-second behind, his other teammate, petite "Sasha" from Japan, blurted out "Brain?!"
Class dismissed.
As you can tell, my time in Japan had a huge impact on my life, which is why so many of my blog entries are devoted to it. I have been asked by many - friends and students alike - about what it felt like to leave after spending over one year in Japan. I think that I can now say, that for anyone who has dared to dream, or has simply had a short taste of life in a country other than their own, the experience of leaving often comes with great sadness and a feeling of unfinished business.
Every Friday there is a consistent pattern at the school that I teach at. It is the day that students finish their individual terms, so Fridays are always final days. I call it "Farewell Photo Friday." A few students go to different schools or look for work, but most head back to their homelands. There are always lots of tears mixed in with the hugs and seemingly endless camera flashes.
And in almost every case, there is a sense of "I'm not ready to leave yet."
I know this because I have walked in those shoes. I have experienced those feelings. And this brings me to the most profound piece of email wisdom that I received in 2006. For those of you returning home to your country, please read my story. I hope that it holds true for you, too.
LEAVING JAPAN
It was during the month of April 2006, and I was experiencing an emotional roller-coaster, as the idea of leaving Japan after 15 months gave me incredible sadness. I had met some wonderful friends, and Japan had become my adopted country, so it was with great reluctance that I tendered my resignation from Nova on April 28th.
However, a thoughtful piece of prose came in an email from a former co-worker of mine back in Canada, and the message gave me great encouragement and allowed me to focus on what I had accomplished in Japan, rather than what I was leaving. Below is the message, in its entirety except for editting for context.
It was probably on one of those days when I was at the OptiCafe, the Internet cafe in the Yodobashi Camera building in Umeda, that I heard it for the first time. Probably in the late fall of 2005, and it was playing on the muzak system. I thought nothing of it at the time, and it somehow found its way into my subconsciousness. And there it lay dormant until another day when I was strolling through the computer department of Yodobashi Camera. There, on the computer monitor, was the music video.
It was my introduction to Endless Story, performed for the live-action movie version of the manga comic Nana, by Yuna Ito.
I had heard much of J-Pop, the genre of Japanese popular music, but never thought that I would be interested. After all, it was in an entirely different language, and I wouldn't know one artist from the other or what song they were famous for. But that all changed when I saw the video for Endless Story.
As I said, the song had laid somewhere in my mind, and when I saw the video that day at Yodobashi, I recognized it immediately, and took note of the title and artist. The video was on a programming loop as a demo for the computer's sound and graphic abilities, so as soon as it ended, it started again. I watched the video one time around, and was captivated by the song's melody, the beautiful voice of the singer, and could sense the emotion that was conveyed by the music alone. Oh, and one more thing...part of the song was in English. You can see the video at www.youtube.com when you type the title and artist in the search engine.
In the spring, I bought the Endless Story single CD at the Tsutaya media store in Dotonbori - my first J-Pop CD. In many ways, it became a symbol of those final months living in Osaka. Upon reading the lyrics and hearing the sadness in the music, the theme of loss and wanting more while keeping a brave face seemed to suit my mood as I finished up my working tenure in Japan. I had lived in Osaka for ten months, and I felt somewhat settled there. I had gotten used to the routine there. I was happy. And I felt guilty for leaving. The friends that I had made, I felt that I had barely gotten to know. There was so much of this country that I had not seen, but I enjoyed every little bit that I had.
And I would miss it all.
On Monday June 5, 2006, as I said goodbye to Osaka, I kept a stiff upper lip and refused to look behind me as the train headed to the airport. My heart felt empty, but I also felt an incredible resolve to not let this be the last time I was here. No, there was too much here for me to simply forget. The people and the country that I had grown to love were too important, and I vowed to make my relationship with Japan just like the song - an endless story.
The single element that I missed the most after leaving Japan was that of the people. I had been an English teacher to the locals for 15 months, and it was inevitable that friendships would grow. Upon returning to western Canada, I would frequently look through the photos and the memorabilia that I had collected during the previous year and lament my loss. It only strengthened my determination to return to Japan again.
Thankfully, a small part of Japan came to visit us...a small part that would have a giant impact on our lives.
I'll call her "Katty." She was a native of western Honshu, and was a student in Hyogo at the school where my wife "May" worked. By day Katty was an aspiring school teacher, and her hobby was travelling, so she brushed up on her English in her spare time. It was at that school, a stone's throw from the rabid baseball stadium between Kobe and Osaka, where she and May met.
We were fortunate to have had Katty come to visit Vancouver twice in a five month span. I met her for the first time in March when I picked her up at the station and brought her back to our place. As two teachers, we became friends in no time, and in the process also carved out an informal language exchange: me practicing my Japanese, she practicing her English. I could also see the friendly chemistry between she and May, as their laughter was contagious.
For six nights, Katty was our houseguest, and with her ready smile and playful disposition, became a joyful fixture in our home. She and May made cookies together and went shopping, and she even got dressed up in May's ice hockey gear! Katty also had incredible physical energy. It was almost like she didn't sleep sometimes.
And then it ended. She returned to her native land to go back to work, and our home became quiet. Her presence, or lack of it, was easily felt.
It was easy to assume that we wouldn't see her again for a long time. It turned out to be shorter than we all expected, as she wrote to us in July and told us her plans to come visit again. We eagerly rolled out the welcome mat for her. This time she would stay nine days with us.
Like her first visit, the time went by all too quickly. The movies, the dinners, a weekend camping trip, mini-golf, and lots of talking all abruptly ended on August 15th, as she returned to Japan to start a new school year. Before she left, she helped my wife celebrate my birthday, and gave me a beautiful hand-made gift that must have taken incredible effort. It was a true labour of friendship.
She had become a dear friend to us in such a short time, almost like a younger sister, whose energy and high spirits were seemingly unquenchable.
Katty's visits were like a Japanese cherry blossom that blooms in the spring: eagerly anticipated, warmly celebrated, but lasting only a short time, and sadly missed. We don't know when we will see her next, but like those who watch for the annual appearance of the tiny pink sakura, we will be waiting, and we will rejoice again.
We miss you so much, dear Katty. Hayaku kaerimite kudasai. Itsu demo kite kudasai.
When cattle are alive, we call them cows or bulls, but when they are in the grocery stores, they are called beef.
When pigs are alive they are pigs, but in the stores they are called pork.
When chickens are alive they are chickens, but in the stores they are called...chickens.
Don't you just love the continuity of the English language? Here's a story about this kind of confusion.
My wife and I hosted our friend "Kelly" from Japan this past week. One of our excursions together last weekend was a trip to a children's farm at a park, where Kelly got to see all sorts of different animals.
When we got to the chicken coop, Kelly pointed to a plump black and white bird. "What is that?"
"That's a chicken," we answered.
"Ehhhhhh??!!!" Kelly gasped, her eyes wide. "NOT chicken!!!" she blurted.
At first, we couldn't understand it, but then my wife figured it out. Kelly was astounded that we actually called live chickens "chickens," because in her native Japanese, the term "chikin" is used exclusively to refer to the meat product found in grocery stores, while the term niwatori referred to the living kind.
It became a running joke for the rest of her stay. Kelly took it in stride, and whenever she saw chicken, whether live, raw, or cooked, she would close her eyes, shake her head, and start muttering, "Not chicken..."
At the beginning of June, I visited eastern Canada for the first time in 28 years.
While my wife and I were in Ottawa to spend time with family, we also took some time to take in some of the sights of our national capital. Most notable, of course, was our visit to Parliament Hill in downtown.
We got a great view of the city, as well as the neighbouring city of Gatineau in Quebec across the Ottawa River, from the Peace Tower in the main block of the Parliament Buildings.
Across from Parliament Hill, we found this statue of one of Canada's greatest heroes, Terry Fox. I always dreamed of seeing his memorial in Thunder Bay, but this one was enough for me.
Not far from Parliament Hill was the Royal Canadian Mint, where specialty coins are made. I got to hold a 28-pound bar of gold that was worth $300,000! Needless to say, it was chained to the table and watched dutifully by a policeman in the gift shop.
One of the more sobering places downtown was the National War Memorial, where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is. You can't help but feel moved by the exhibit, or be compelled to ponder the futility of war and the senseless waste of human life.
And of course, you can't go to Ottawa without a drive to the suburb of Kanata, where the National Hockey League's Ottawa Senators play their home games at Scotiabank Place. The city was still buzzing with the team's success at competing in the Stanley Cup Finals. The slogan "Be Red" was everywhere!
Having taught English in Japan, I know that my subject is very hard for people from both Japan and Korea, mainly due to the fact the entire sentence structure of those respective languages is completely different from that of English. The order of subject-verb-object that is familiar to most European, and even Chinese, languages, is instead ordered subject-object-verb. No wonder that my students from Japan and Korea have trouble with their subjects and objects.
Case in point: Yesterday, one of my Korean students was trying to explain her marketing plan for a robotic massage machine (not my idea, just the lesson plan!). "JJ," as I call her, wanted to say that this product was good for men, and that it was also good for their wives. Literally, JJ was trying to say, "Your wife can use it, too."
Instead, this was the quote, I'm not joking:
"You can use your wife."
And she wondered why I started making choking sounds.
Oh, and her original slogan for the product: "Better than fingers."
______________________________________
Today, I had my core class students practice their pronunciation and enunciation by acting out a play. The basic concept is that of a door-to-door salesman who keeps getting the door slammed in his face.
In one group, one of the homeowners was "Felix," and he had to play a rude, mocking character, while "Sheldon" played the salesman trying to sell burglar alarms. In this exchange, Sheldon knocks on the door, Felix makes fun of him, says "I'm not interested," slams the door on him, and Sheldon quietly carries on to the next house. Well, Sheldon added a little extra to the script. Here was the exchange:
Felix: "I'm not interested. I SAID, I'm not interested!" (slams the door)
Sheldon: "I hope your house is visited by burglars!!!!!"
Class dismissed.
Wednesday May 31, 2006. I had completed my tenure at Nova, and my wife and I had one more site in Kyoto to visit. We didn't know it at the time, but the Kiyomizu Temple Complex would be my favourite place in Kyoto.
Located in the eastern part of the city, Kiyomizu (meaning pure water) dates back to the 8th century, and the current buildings to 1633. Originally a Buddhist sanctuary, the complex is built on a hillside that is ripe with forestry and vegetation. Like Ginkaku-ji and Kinkaku-ji, Kiyomizu is a welcome respite from the usual hustle and bustle of the urbanized city that surrounds it, and it is easy to forget that you are still in the city.
The main hall of Kiyomizu-dera is built on pillars and overlooks the Otawa waterfall. The water here is believed to have healing and other beneficial properties, so there are always crowds of people getting water from it from metal cups.
The main hall offers spectacular views of the city of Kyoto and is also a marvel of engineering, as it was built entirely without nails.
One of the other popular attractions at this site is the Jishu-jinja shrine, which is dedicated to a matchmaking deity. Visitors walk between two designated "love stones," from one to the other, with eyes closed. If done successfully, it is believed that the person will find love.
All around the complex, you can find various colourful buildings for different purposes.
The mix of greenery with the grand architecture makes for a wonderful balance of nature and humanity.
As had become a familiar custom, my wife and I were accompanied by our faithful travelling companion "Miriam". All three of us were thankful for the warm weather and blue skies.
Miriam was a bit camera shy, so one time I caught a picture of her while she was checking her camera. She heard my camera click and looked up at me with a smile.
"I'm going to kill you," she said.
"Okay, that's fine," I replied cockily. That wasn't enough for her, so she decided to throw one of her best idioms at me.
"I'm going to kick your (butt)!!"
I was impressed. Our Japanese friend definitely had lots of spirit!
But in all seriousness, that trip was a wonderful time. It would be a memory that we would all cherish, as it would be our last sightseeing tour together. Five days later, my wife and I left Japan, but were already thinking about our next time back, and our next tour with Miriam.
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[this is good]It is .... interesting.Oh it's my thing!!!!!!!Kya-!!!!!!Your class is missed. I'm doing well☆. read more
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Ryan.~ I'm having fun with you everyday in my class.kkk E.. anyway, I think we are draw!! how tall am... read more
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