Errands, Repeat

THURSDAY, JULY 29

The alarm DID go off, but at that point, I was only cat-napping anyway. In retrospect, 2 hours was more than enough time to get ready. I took another bath, had a bowl of corn flakes for breakfast (inspired by orientation) got mostly ready and generally lounged around in my underwear until about 9:15, so as not to wrinkle my suit. I even had time to read a bit more of “Bridget Jones' Diary.” I was eventually picked up by Mountain-sensei. He's a small man, a head shorter than me, but very friendly.

Together, we drove to city hall to register me as a foreigner. Then to a photo shop, to get passport photos taken, then back to city hall, then to the bank, then back to city hall to get proof that I'd applied to register as a foreigner, then back to the bank to open a bank account. All of this, essentially, was done in Japanese, except when I needed to provide something, like my hanko. In the bank, I learned that he's a Buddhist priest.

After that, we drove to school, where I was brought into the teacher's room and introduced to all the teachers there. School is not in session and will not be in session again until September. Yet, teachers are still expected to come to school from 8:30 until as late as 6pm. Some students are about participating in clubs but mostly teachers are preparing lessons or, as one teacher bluntly said to me, pretending to look busy for the vice principal, Kyoto-sensei.

We picked up two teachers, both young men, and went out to lunch at a popular restaurant. We had to wait for a table, during with my companions spoke entirely in Japanese. At the start of the meal, we were each given a scratch-off card. Mine won a free cup. I was confused (a cup of what? Coffee, tea, soup?) until they handed me a nicely package MUG. My fellow teachers, at least the two young ones, claim it was beginners luck.

Back at school, I said I was fine waiting for a ride home. So Mountain-Sensei went off to work and I sat at my desk, prepared to look through the paperwork. I never got around to that. Different teachers kept coming up with different paperwork for me. Much of it was very helpful, including directions (again, all in Japanese) for the train tomorrow to Otsu. I was given a list of all of the teachers with a cooresponding photograph of that group of teachers. I spent most of my time with my Japanese phrasebook open to the hiragana/katakana page translating the hiragana names into Romaji, so I could practice and eventually match faces to names. Like in Chinese, your family name comes first. In fact, most people are just referred to by their family name, including students. I had a nice chat with one of the young male teachers from lunch, and eventually a broken chat with one of the Japanese language teachers who speaks limited English. She eventually helped me figure out which names on my sheet corresponded with which faces in the photograph. Kyoto-sensei swung by a few times to see what we were/I was doing.

It was weird to be in the office and here little words that clued me in that my coworkers were talking about me. My name stands out quite clearly in a string of Japanese. ALT or JET also stands out.

At 5:00, Mountain-sensei still hadn't returned. Kyoto-sensei I guessed (later I found out correctly) called him and told him to come and take me home. It is true that my contract says I'm done around 4pm. We left the office and returned to the shoe cubbies by the door. As I don't have “indoor shoes” yet, I was borrowing a pair of bright green slippers from the school, that clashed with my professional suit. Mountain-Sensei pointed out my cubbie for me. All of the others were labeled with teacher names in kanji while mine had my name in bold Romaji. It stands out.

Outside, a group of 15-20 girls were gathered in their school uniforms on the front steps. Mountain-Sensei said they were brass band, although how he knew, I don't know. There were no instruments in sight. Students still come to school (in uniform) during breaks to participate in their club activities. We walked out and he introduced me as the new ALT. This announcement was met by a deafening, repeating chorus of “kawaii!” Recognizing the word from my Japanese lessons back home with Besu-sensei, I had an idea of what they were exclaiming. Eventually, I turned to the closest girl and said that I didn't speak Japanese. Immediately, it turned to “cute! Cute!”. I'm going to get an ego if this continues, but it was a most enjoyable meeting.

Mountain-Sensei dropped me off at home and I thanked him for all his help before happily climbing the steps to my apartment. Elizabeth arrived shortly after me, so we chatted briefly and arranged to go to Otsu tomorrow together. She was confident with the trains while I was not, so this worked quite well. Once inside, I got water (with water fountains being scarce and bottled water costing money, I always come home to several glasses of water – hopefully ice water as I've just discovered ice cube trays and should have those set soon.)

I spent much of the evening typing the above entry (which OpenOffice informs me is now on its tenth page.) Later in the evening, I had a knock on my door, which interrupted my typing. I expected it to be from Elizabeth, the other new ALT in town, but it ended up being Mama. She came by to drop off some bread she'd picked up for me, and wanted to make sure that I knew the schedule for the following day and how to get into Otsu. She told me she lived just ten minutes away and that I should call her mobile if I needed anything at all. This is also when I learned that the landline in my apartment is hooked up. Go figure... a landline... how... retro.

I found a croissant in the bag Mama had brought me, along with two other rolls. I nibbled the end of it and discovered that it was quite good. I have been to France and had croissants there, and I've also gone through the arduous process myself (it took 8 hours both times) of making them, so my expectations are high. Many croissants in the US are cheap imitations with poor flavor, but this was wonderfully flaky, light, and tasty. I scarfed it down and continued to type.

I collapsed into sleep.