Kotatsu of Cows

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 9

The Koko teachers go to a lot of trouble to look out for me. I found out upon arrival that they had arranged for a classroom for me to give the tests in, rather than the hallway so I'd be warmer. It was warmer.

I was teaching with Ottawa-sensei. He had students in the room and then I took three up with me to the second floor. There, two practiced in the hallway while the third did their exam. Then the next came in and the first went and summoned up the next student. I put out my rubric in the hall with a pen so students would (theoretically) have their name, class, and number all filled in before they walked in the door.

Students were generally decent, though not nearly what I had expected before we started the whole process. I had one class where the students were just NOT prepared. It wasn't even first hour, but the first four or five were just poorly done. I was practically disparaging as it's grating to listen patiently to students struggle through a reading (the same reading, all of them) for hours. The first good student probably got higher than deserved marks just because she was so good by contrast that my whole scale was shaken.

I used the headphones from my iPod and started in on the first lesson of my JET Japanese course. It was all introductory phrases, which was a lot of memorization. I already knew some, so I felt good about that. The rest, I reviewed, but I didn't kill myself to learn. It's not like I say goodnight (before bed) to people often. Or ever. We also learned numbers, and, by “learned” I mean that we learned one through ten, then they just started throwing random numbers under 50 at us and expected us to fingure out ourselves how the pattern is formed. Really, really not helpful. I thank my lucky stars for Olivia and her Japanese lessons.

My day was made so much brighter by a quick conversation with Susanna around lunchtime. She wanted to let me know she hadn't forgotten and had brought the kotatsu she'd said she'd loan me for the winter. A kotatsu is a heated table. Yes, that sounds odd, but they're very common in Japan. They're also expensive.

My afternoon was busy with me frantically running around, students coming to take the exam after class, then my weekly meeting with one of my students, who want sot talk with me to improve her English speaking. I applaud her, as it's currently poor. We talked a little about the week and she and the other student spotted the photos of me and Kiki, Walker, and And it's fun for me, as I can run things past her. I asked her what she liked best in English class. She likes games and puzzles, like the wordsearch. By the time I finished with her, I was just putting my desk together when Susanna came by. She told me that she was ready and, if I needed to work more, she could give me a ride back in her car, but she wasn't coming back.

I looked at the papers to be graded yet on my desk and decided I would go home on time, for once. She gave me a 10 minute head start and then was going to follow with the little hand-drawn map I'd made. For the record, it's HARD to make a map when streets have no names! I ended up saying this like this building has animals on the side. It's the kind of direction that once got me in trouble with Marie (“Turn right when you get to the weird intersection”) but they apparently prepared me well for Japan. Susanna arrived right after I did. I opened the door, threw my stuff in and went to help her.

She had told me she didn't have a futon for the kotatsu, but she came with one. I carried it up, along with the floor pad. She brought the kotatsu itself.

Now, knowing that she had said she'd bring this today, I woke up this morning and spent most of the time I usually spent getting ready frantically throwing my laundry into my closet. My house looked fairly decent, despite the huge pile of dishes in the sink. We set it up in my bedroom. First, you spread out the floor pad, a thick quilt. Then you put the table on top, hook up the plug to the heating element, spread the futon (a really thick quilt) over the top of the kotatsu, then set a large board on top to act as the table. Bizarre, but it means that you sit with your feet under it and they stay warm.

I didn't turn it on until later, when it got colder and spent the evening sweeping up and cleaning my house to how I WISH it'd looked when Susanna came by. I also rearranged my bedroom. I flipped my futon, which is weird, so that I could fit the kotatsu in the corner where the plug was. I set it up so I can sit with my back against the wall and my feet under and it's positively lovely. Susanna made a fuss over the stained futon but, honestly, she pointed it out to me and a slight discoloration does not bug me in the slightest. In fact, you won't even notice unless you're looking for it.

I didn't notice until after she'd left but it has cows on it. It's reminds me of home.

She texted me later to see how I liked it and told me that my excitement reminded her of herself during her days in America. She also affixed a warning that she'd forgotten to tell me: Kotatsu are very warm and leaving them is difficult, so it can make a person very lazy. Oh, trust me. By the time I'd responded to her text, I'd already figured that out. I sat in that same spot for I'm not going to admit how many hours with my toes warmer than they'd been in weeks.

I think a kotatsu will come home to America someday. I don't know how I could ever not have one again.