Ski-Free

TUESDAY, MARCH 8

I tied a particularly ugly obi on Monday night. It was an abstract, geometric design to start with and I executed it poorly. That was okay, though, because none of my classmates were too much better.

I attended the Koko graduation on Tuesday. It was my first graduation ceremony and much of it was like an American ceremony, filled with lots of pomp and processions and speeches. Considering how boring I found my brother's graduation last time (I read a book Alan loaned me), I shouldn't be surprised that I found this one boring, if interesting. There were a lot of speeches in Japanese and it was mid-morning, just when my morning wakefulness was wearing off. The slide show, with somber music in the darkened hall didn't help, either

I was surprised by how few people were there. My own high school graduation was set in a college basketball stadium. Here, there were about an equal number of parents as students and from what I could tell, no spare siblings or other relatives. I found that surprising.

Students wore their regular school uniform and everyone wore a flower, boys in their buttonholes and girls in their pockets. They marched in and lined up in rows. Once each row was filled, the row bowed together and all sat. Obviously, there had been a rehearsal. Each section was lead in by one of five teachers, three male, two female. The women wore kimono, while two of the men wore suits. The first man wore a male kimono, with a fan tucked into his belt. It looked snazzy. The principal wore tails. None of the mothers wore kimono, though I've heard some mothers wear them when their children start high school. Perhaps Shiga is just too rural for such lavish displays.

I sat with a select number of teachers up front, but to the side. Still enough in front that my constant almost nodding off was definitely an issue that I tried to avoid as best I could. Mama was not there, as she was assigned the duty of making sure that no one was able to sneak in. Intense.

Pomp and circumstance was not played, but Olde Langzigm was played, which surprised me, as I associate it only with New Year's. Rather than walking across the stage, students merely stand when their name is called. This definitely made the ceremony shorter. There were no certificates, as far as I could see.

Afterward, I joined the second year students in cleaning up. We stacked up the chairs then rolled up the huge sheets that covered the floor. It was fun interacting with the students and I got to give a death glare to a boy who stepped on our sheet. His friends hooted with laughter.

I recorded the exam again with Mountain-sensei, as it hadn't worked the first time. He had me record something else at the end so that we could play it over the speakers, but not actually play the test (again). I recorded William Blake's “Tiger, Tiger” though if I were to do it again, I probably would have done the end of “Kubla Khan.”

Indy came over that night and we made vegetarian carbonerra for dinner, along with bruchetta. It was quite tasty, though my kitchen still hasn't recovered dirty-dishes-wise. We had our DTR (define the relationship) talk while cutting garlic and it went facebook official shortly thereafter. Mom, dad, please don't make a fuss.

I got a text at 1:30am on Wednesday morning, well after I'd gone to bed from Tamora at Nishi saying that both her and Seth would be gone from school that day and I could stay at Koko, if I liked, rather than go to Nishi. I half-asleep texted back that I'd stay at Koko, as that means sleeping in an extra half hour. So, while that was a pleasnt surprise, I was frustrated at finding out so late. As Elizabeth commented when I saw her the following morning, we're really just afterthoughts. With how early you have to apply for Nenkyuu, there was no reason I couldn't have been informed of such changes earlier.

The Kogyo kids had their exam on Thursday. Once again, the cassette was plugged into the speaker system and I was able to go upstairs with the other English teachers and listen to my voice being broadcast into six classrooms simultaneously. It's actually a bit disconcerting.

I then got to spend the afternoon GRADING all 240 exams. I'll have to write a better one in the future, but it was shocking how much variance there was between the classes. The classes are all decided based on the students' courses, so all of the architecture students are in one class, for example. I didn/t entire the grades in the system until yesterday. The test was out of thirty points and the best class averaged TEN points higher than the lowest class. I was stunned.

After grading exams, I rushed off to tea ceremony at Shogyo. It's amazing how relaxed tea ceremony lessons leave me after the stress of a busy day. We practiced folding our napkins, and today even learned about how to make tea. Our sweets were an interesting green mochi made from... mugwort, I believe? It was good and, as every sweet is in Japan, very beautiful. I learned a lot more today about how much things cost. The little red napkins we tuck into our “obi” (simulated with a long sewn cloth tied around our waists) are $30 each. The little lacquer-ware canisters that hold the tea are $60 and up. This isn't a tea ceremony. This is a dance show with elaborate props that just happens to be about tea.

Friday was more exam grading at Koko and a race to finish before the day ended. As soon as the clock timed out I needed to rush home, get to the bank and grab some money, then quickly change into my kimono for internship. I did get out almost on time (I was chatting with Mischievous-sensei and didn't feel I could cut him off.) I withdrew some extra money, just in case, as I didn't know how much things would cost on the mountain this weekend.

At home, I threw my kimono on, and rushed off to class. I was less helpful in class today, but it was still nice. Class was small, with just four students until one showed up later partway into class. As there wasn't time for her to get into her kimono, she stayed in street clothes. When it came time to tie the obi (which resembles sparrow wings), that student watched the first time, then I was her partner and she tied it on me the second time. She did a good job, too, so I was proud.

I was excused early so I could rush home and get ready for Nagano. I was heading off to downhill ski for the first time on the mountains of the 1998 Nagano Olympics. By Friday night, it was getting cold and I was tired and fretting about getting everything together in time for the trip. I used my list and quickly packed my bags with every warm item of clothing I owned.

I texted Indy on the train to tell him that my socks were already wet from the puddles on the way to the station. I took this as an ill omen for the weekend ahead.

I met up with the rest of the JETs in the station, where we created a huge scene and attracted a lot of stares and attention. From there, we piled into the bus outside and settled in for the night.

I was awoken by our arrival in Nagano and stumbled half-blind off the bus. It wasn't until someone else exclaimed that I realised that we were ringed by towering, white, tree-covered mountains. It was stunning and beautiful. We grabbed our gear and trudged down to the pension, where we dumped our bags in a room for the day, changed into our warm clothes, and headed up to the rental place, grabbed our gear and dispersed onto the slopes.

I joined Elizabeth, and two other girls for beginner classes. It took us a while to track down an English speaking lesson. Eventually we found one and they sent someone over to pick us up. Liz was more advanced, having skied a half-dozen times, so she had a personal teacher with us three (Elizabeth, Rachael, and I) had a class together. Many of the ski instructors here are Australians or Kiwis who migrate north for the winter.

We started out on basics like how to put on your skis and gliding on one foot before eventually putting on two skis and gliding on the smallest of inclines. It was at this point that I noticed I was doing well. Then, we took the lift (which terrified me the first time and makes me remember how much I miss roller coasters) up the beginner bunny hill. Our instructor taught us basic things and had us go just 30 meters or so. This is when I realised that skiing is a lot like ice skating. I started weaving back and forth, shifting my weight before he told us to. This is when he turned and, as we waited for the others to make it down to us, asked, “Are you sure you've never skied before? You're doing really good.”

By the end, I was starting behind my classmates but passing them while going down the hill. I was having a blast. Elizabeth was having much less fun, though, as it wasn't coming back to her as quickly as she'd hoped. Rachel was also doing well. It was during the class that I saw my youngest skier of the weekend. One of the other instructors for the ski school we were using was heading up lift past us a few times with his 18 month old son strapped into his own pair of little skis. There were many toddlers on the hill and by age four or five, children skied independently of parents (meaning they were using the lifts by themselves and going down the slopes with no obvious parent in sight.) My mother would have NEVER done that. Frankly, though she's 6,400 miles away, it's stunning she let me ski now (though she doesn't have much ability to stop me anymore.)

After the lesson, we stopped for lunch then Liz and I hit the slopes again while Elizabeth and Rachel took a shuttle back to the main warming hut with all the stuff.

I did a few runs with Liz, who was, I was surprised to see, slower than me, before we decided to brave the trip back to main base on ski. Luckily, along the way, we bumped into her teacher, who, though off the clock, came with us to give us direction. We went up two ski lifts, then skied down the main beginner course, which was littered with people and filled with cruising snowboarders. It was a bit terrifying as it was slightly steeper and much more crowded. Dodging snowboarders is not my idea of fun. Her teacher came partway down the slope with us, pausing for me to catch up, then we waited for Liz to at least get close. Eventually, he said his goodbyes, and we continued down, me leaving Liz behind to get to the bottom. I was elated after that run. It felt good and I was proud of myself. I bumped into Elizabeth who saw me and told me where our stuff was, then chatted with a few other JETs, who then wandered off. Then Liz made it to the bottom.

Part of the difficulty of skiing is that everyone's on snowboards. The fast boarders whiz past and it's overwhelming trying to do bigger weaves down the hill and not get into their way, as happened to me a few times. I had long skis, the kind the place rented for free, but everyone else on the mountain had shorter, fatter skis that are apparently better for carving. Carol declared the quality of the equiptment we rented to be pretty terrible.

After that last run, we headed in for the day. They had a special vegetarian meal for us three vegetarians that night at dinner. One item was breaded fish, as three other JETs testified, although the two times I asked our server, he insisted it was potato. The Japanese-size portions left none of the weary gaijin skiers full, so my whole grain bagel with cheddar cheese was getting envious looks later that evening. The group played werewolf. I lived until the end, but out of four werewolves, us townspeople managed to kill a stellar... none.

I did some reading before bed, and slept well. Breakfast was at seven. I dislike ketchup on my scrambled eggs, especially when it mixes with the salad.

Us beginners headed off together, though Elizabeth turned in her skis and vowed to enjoy herself reading for the day and relaxing. The beginners were beginning to annoy me because of how long it was taking us to get going. We had to stop and get snacks, and check out the omiage, and get drinks. I was frustrated as we hadn't skied all that much the day before. Carol came with us to the beginner slopes and, seeing how slow everyone else was, said she was taking me up with her. The others seemed horrified that I was going to go, but I needed to get out, as she later concurred. I think she was also excited to try pushing me onto some of the harder courses.

We took the gondola up to the stop of the mountain, where there were some beginner courses (but level two, as I was to find out later.) The view from the gondola was breathtaking.

At the top of the mountain, the slopes were steeper, with bigger drop offs over the edges, and much narrower paths. There were less people and it was pretty, but I was more focused on staying up and not falling over cliff faces. I took my first fall of the weekend, yes, I did not fall once on my first day, up there with Carol, and laughed. I still was smiling on my later falls, but they were no longer fun and were becoming more frustrating. Carol is generally a fast skier, so it was nice of her to wait for me to catch up.

We eventually met up with other people, and I took a wrong turn at a fork and lost Carol. Her mobile wasn't working, so I couldn't reach her. Eventually, I reached someone else who told her and we met up later, when the lifts were closed due to high winds and most of us JETs were stranded on the far side of the mountain for lunch. This is good, because I was stranded there as well and didn't know how I was going to get back otherwise, as skiing back would involve slopes well above my level. I had skied down by myself after losing Carol on the beginner slopes though, for an unknown reason, the very, very bottom of the beginner hill was closed and the only way down was a short intermediate section with a steep incline. I spend a lot of time and took a good many tumbles on that slope before deciding that it was much more dignified for me to kick my skis off and march the rest of the way down, which I did. My dignity was only slightly blighted by the children skiing past me.

Lunch was a Gorgonzola cheese pizza, which was tasty. I had some nice chats with some of the other JETS that I don't know terribly well and was reunited with Carol. We took a shuttle back to the the bunny slopes. I skied there a few times until my technique started to fail me, then skied back to the warming hut, determined to quit while I was ahead before I took a bad tumble as one JET had already done. He should be fine, but he's quite pained.

That evening, eight of us hopped two taxis to the onsen, which was lovely. Someone threw a snowball in, and us girls thought it was the boys, but they claim it wasn't them. The bus ride home was nice. I fell asleep at about nine when we started moving and slept pretty well, only waking up to shift position. The bus, however, was the worst night bus anyone could remember. My knees were hitting the seat in front of me and I am no where near the shortest person. If the person in front of you leaned their seat down, they risked squishing you into a pancake. The JETs were not happy.

It was also not happy when they didn't have enough seats. I'm not entire sure what the situation was, but we paid for 31 seats. Two JETs didn't make it down with us on the way here (Ginny, for example, was sick as death) and we picked up another JET, from Kyoto who had come on his own and didn't have a ride back. After all, we had two empty seats going to waste. Well, it turns out our enterprising bus company, noting that we didn't have two people on the way there, went and resold those seats. Our AJETs, though, being stubborn people, pulled out their receipts and showed how many tickets we'd paid for and someone up front ended up getting politely bumped.

We arrived in the cold and dark and rain at Kyoto Station 45 minutes before first train. We piled into the station, I searched around for a bathroom (the only available ones did NOT come stocked with toilet paper, which makes me angry) and met up with Indy briefly, who came to say good morning.

Then I hopped my first train, got home, walked in the rain and fell into bed for half an hour before my alarm went off again.

I was actually more awake than usual for work, which was nice and had the whole day to less plan. It went pretty quickly. That night, at kimono class, we practiced for the exam next week. I had thought that the exam was this week, but apparently not. We'll be putting on our kimono and tying our obi in taiko knots. We did this four times. For me, being an intern, I do this every week (though I'd been doing my taiko slightly differently, so it was good to practice this way.) and I'm pretty confident doing it. It was nice to get the fine pointers, but generally, I'm set here, so class was a bit repetitive on that front. I could make comments about Japan teaching to tests, but I'll refrain.

We practiced for other parts of the test, including a section where we introduce ourselves by name and number and say some phrase about kimono in Japanese in a very respectful register. I got it written out for me in romaji, though I need to practice saying it. Indy says he'll help me with the pronunciation tonight.

I also found out that there'll be a written section. I inquired over and over with less and less indirectness about how that's going to work. I found out it's a take-home test, so I needn't fret. I was also told that we can just copy the answers out of the book. And we'll bring the tests back the following week and sensei will give us the real answers. I found that surprising. It took a while for me to get my classmates to understand that while we can just copy answers from the book, the book is ENTIRELY in JAPANESE, so I actually can't do that. They forget very quickly how little Japanese I speak, though I know I'm definitely much more attuned to my deficiencies than they are.

We had a lecture some weeks back about the history of kimono. It's in my textbook and I understood pretty much nothing of the lesson except that there were pretty pictures on the bottom of clothing through the ages. I'm assuming part of the test will be about that, so I plan to read the relevant chapters in my kimono book, that I got for Christmas and hope there's some overlap. Indy also said he'd look at the pages for me, though I feel bad at making him help me with my work, though he did point out to my raising this point that he has to read far more in his school textbooks.

Of course, I can prepare all I want, but the real kicker is going to be the English of the test itself. Last time, several questions were incomprehensible because the word choice of every word was just a bit off. Merely understanding the questions was a test in and of itself.

Today, I am at koko. I arrived with the omiage that I bought at Hakuba and showed it to Mama, who was quite pleased. She told me to keep it until the 22nd, when it'll be presented at the teacher meeting. I don't go to these meetings, which is apparently when all omiage is handed out. I no longer feel bad for not bringing them omiage regularly. So, right now, the boxes of cookies (which say “Hakuba” on them in kanji) are tucked into a drawer of my desk so I can't possibly forget them.

I was supposed to have a package delivered yesterday, but they came at an odd time and I didn't get it. So I asked Mustache-sensei to have it redelivered. He was on the phone making the call when Kyoto-sensei came by and harsh words were exchanged and I was nervous, and the call ended abruptly, and Mustache sensei came back to his seat, shook his head. Went to Kyoto-sensei, showed him my missed package form, more words were exchanged and Mustache-sensei returned to say that they were cracking down on calls from teachers out of the school, so it wasn't allowed for Mustache-sensei to make that call, even for the ALT, who can't make it herself. Kyoto-sensei says that the call can be made after school hours, off school grounds, which I found a little harsh, though I recognize that he's just probably applying a rule universally, regardless of situation.

I apologized to Mustache-sensei several times, as I'd obviously gotten him in trouble (though how was I to know?!) and said that I'd asked Elizabeth to make the call for me, though in reality, I'll just go by the post office on my way home, though it would have been easier to just have it dropped off at my apartment. I think it's a new crackdown, as Mustache-sensei also told me that cell phones shouldn't be used during school hours, though I've seen teachers texting (or phones ringing) all the time at this school (though certainly more at others.) So, my phone is dutifully in my bag. I may start taking more trips to the bathroom now.

And the third kicker for the day is that the internet is down and will be for the next 2.5 days. I got no warning, which doesn't help when I have teachers waiting on lesson plans from me and use the internet constantly for my lesson planning (which is what I'll be doing here all tomorrow and have done for 8 hours today.) Tamora, at Nishi, is going to hate me for how long it's taken me to get this lesson off to her. I have three lesson plans, and I'll ask her to pick two. Many of my worksheets don't have digital forms, so I'll just let her assume, based on descriptions.

So, between all of this, I'm most definitely ready to go home.