I'm a Japanese Rock Star

MONDAY, AUGUST 6

It was actually cool in my apartment this morning. That didn't last long.

I got to Kogyo and greeted other teachers by the teachers' lockers. I heard one teacher comment to another that my braids were cute. It seems that if I do ANYTHING with my hair beyond a pony-tail, it's of interest.

I was also then informed that I'd need to make a brief self-introduction speech to the teachers and I could do it in either English or Japanese. Having just done one in Japanese in front of the entire school at Koko, I felt comfortable shortening that one and saying that in Japanese for the teachers. It went over very well and I had several teachers come tell me later that I had excellent pronunciation and I was easy to understand. They're probably just being nice, but it feels good none-the-less.

UPDATED: Later had several other teachers tell me that my pronunciation was excellent. In fact, they had been told by other teachers that they didn't believe me when I said I could not speak Japanese. Olivia-- I give you all credit! On the bright side -- !!!!! Yay !!!!! on the down side... they don't believe that I can't speak Japanese and that means people speak Japanese to me a lot and fast!

The teachers' room was dreadfully hot. Atsui. One of the teachers loaned me a fan.

I hadn't brought my laptop to school today, but the teachers wanted it so we could run through the lesson on Thursday and make sure we could get it all hooked up. So, I biked home, retrieved it (and an ice water bottle and my Washington Monument thermometer) and returned. I'm a fast cyclist.

By this time, the teachers' room was being air conditioned, so it was no longer necessary to check the temperature.

I worked quietly on my self-introduction until just after lunch, when I decided I was hungry enough to eat. Then, I had to find the microwave. Finally, I worked out “Microwave wa doko desu ka?” But katakana English for microwave didn't do it for the poor Japanese-only teacher I stopped. So, I pulled out my cell phone and typed “microwave” into my Japanese-English dictionary and showed the screen to the teacher. She kindly pointed me in the right direction just as the other teachers managed to get the English teacher over to help the poor gaigin.

Let me tell you about teachers' rooms. Unlike my high school, where teacher desks were crammed into whatever closets they could find, Japanese schools all have a teachers' room where every teacher has a desk. Desks are arranged into sections, with desks pushed up against each other. For example, at Kogyo, there are four sets of desks. Each set has five desks pushed up against each other, and five others, pushed up across, forming a small island. All of the desks are a grey metal and look quite old.

Desks are strictly arranged by hierarchy. I haven't figured out what that is yet, but I suspect I'm near/at the bottom. Some teachers' rooms are a hopping place and some are quiet. They're almost always the only air conditioned part of the school, which makes me happy to be a teacher.

For someone who gave up naps at age two, I'm certainly making up for lost time.

I woke up and got ready for kimono class. Then the rain hit – absolutely downpour. I've decided Japan is like Ireland when it comes to rain showers. You can have blue skies and still have a torrential downpour that lasts just 10 minutes, then have blue skies again. Just – flat – out of no where!

Made it to kimono class where I was greeted by a string of Japanese. I handed over 1,500 yen for my kimono textbook, which has lovely pictures and lots of kanji. There were many more students here this week (the first week of official classes) than there were last week at the open house. Most are older, but there are two about my age, but they kept to themselves on the other side of the room. I was adopted by a young-ish woman who spoke enough English to translate important bits.

The sensei then introduced herself, gave an introduction of the other staff members, then I was introduced, making me pretty awesome. From what I could tell, she told them I was an English teacher from America and that I spoke English and implored them to help me understand if they could.

We sit on our knees and do a lot of bowing at the start of class. It reminds me of bowing when I did karate in college. I'm sure I'm doing it all wrong, but they'll undoubtedly correct me at some point. We went around the circle and everyone introduced themselves. When it go to me, I did my standard: “It's nice to meet you. My name is Magdalene. Please take care of me.” It was much shorter than the other students', but they speak Japanese. The teacher looked at me and said “speech! Speech!” and I stumbled out some horribly ungrammatical thing about liking kimono. (Japanese has no singular and plural for nouns, thus pluralizing Japanese-derived nouns is frowned upon, even in English.)

Next, the teacher, a prim looking middle aged Japanese woman stripped off her obi, pads and kimono and, standing before us in her underkimono (which is more than many people wear out and about), she showed us how to put it on. Then, using a sewing bust, she (with the help of an assistant) tied a more complicated obi knot on it. An obi is the belt or sash worn with a kimono (or yukata.) It's often very wide for women and helps create a square look. Once upon a time, it held the kimono on, but now, it's become so decorative that numerous straps and pins are used to hold both the obi and kimono in place. There are numerous ways to tie the obi depending on the formality of the occasion and your marital status as a woman. (Hint: the younger the more complex and awesome.)

We then went through the textbook with the teacher talking and me mostly trying my best to understand and enjoy the pictures. Then we went through the little sashes, pads, clips socks, undergarments, etc, that are part of a kimono. Each one was introduced, with particular attention to the name directed toward me, then handed around. My neighbor translated key bits every once in a while, meaning I actually had some idea what was going on. We then signed up for what we needed to buy. I needed to buy everything, which amounts to a LOT of hours of work.

I didn't know sizes so sensei had me stand up and she looped various belts around me. I also had to find a size for the undershirt, which, all in Japanese, I believe they were excited about trying to find a shirt to fit my... bust. I could be making it up, but it sounded like they kept saying “busto! Busto!” I checked with Olivia later and, yes, it does mean chest or breasts. In fact, this particular part of the fitting was so interesting that all of the students and teachers stopped and turned to watch. Clearly fitting the gaijin's chest was amusing. I wasn't even the largest shirt size.

Once all that was sorted out, they handed out kimono and two belts each. They then walked us through the first few steps in putting on a kimono. Oh, lordy! What have I gotten myself into!? Luckily, being a foreigner, they posted someone near me to help me personally. We put our kimono on over our clothes but in the future we'll be wearing our brand spankin' new undergarments. (Which are white... must remember not to wear bright colored bra or panties...)

So, thus far, you first snap the back of the collar (by the nape) over so the fabric is double-thick there. Then you hold the kimono in your left hand, I think, then pull it over your shoulders. Then from underneath your butt, hike it up so it now is ankle-length with the extra fabric gathered about your waist. A long elastic belt then doubles around and holds that in place.

So, by this point, the waist down part looks good, but the top is really baggy. You use your hands to straighten out the baggy part and neatly cross the kimono front in place, then tie a larger part-elastic thing around your waist. Now, it's all held up, and the obi would then be tied on.

We didn't have time for that. So we stripped the kimono off again then got a 10 minute lesson in the proper way to FOLD a kimono, which is quite complex. I kind of want to see if I remember with my kimono, but that would require me unfolding it and I don't want to turn up to class with an improperly kept kimono.

After class, two other older women came to chat with me. Their English was decent, so that helped. I tried speaking Japanese as much as I could. I'm beginning to find myself working out phrases in my head as I bike. Of course, half the time, those have French thrown in whenever I don't know the Japanese word or structure.

Also, I am signed up for level one of kimono classes. That's right, there's more than one level. Apparently 24 hours of instruction is not enough to learn how to wear a kimono. I'm excited!