So, I leave for Hiroshima tonight, which begins the long and hopefully irreversible process that will be coming home. However, as I've come to expect, a snag has emerged.
I'm only bringing the small suitcase I bought in Nagoya home, as I don't know if I'm going to be able to store my big one anywhere
Well, at the behest of my mother, I have been asked to post an update that isn't a disjointed conversation with the scattered fragments of my psyche, as apparently she shows this to people at work and doesn't want them thinking their son is some sort of lunatic*. As ever, I live to serve, so here be some words for youse to chew on. No pictures since I still have uploading troubles, but remember that it's basically at freezing in my apartment, and I can't type with mittens on, so this story should be proof positive enough I'm making an effort!
In Japan, school terms start in the summer, so I'm rapidly approaching the end of Term 2, and Term 3 only seems to last from January to March, and if the impression I've gotten is any judge it's a lot less hectic in terms of schoolwork and a lot more intense for the ninth graders as they start preparing for high school entry. What this all means is it seems like they're acting like they're wrapping up, at least from the standpoint of English classes, as evidenced by today when they wrote about their favourite memory from Junior High School, despite the fact they still have three months to go.
This is context by the way, not the story, the story is what they wrote about. Most of them basically copied the sample paragraph given, with a few "Insert the details" here, which I would love to object to if I didn't do the same thing all the time in my classes. However, three of them wrote about the track and field race that happened a few months back in Toei (the one I wasn't invited to). They all wrote basically the same thing, due to the aforementioned paragraph copying, and no, the simultaneous memory isn't the story either. I merely feel the need for exposition.
The STORY is that I happen to know they lost that competition, apparently quite badly. I remember being told this, and have further evidence from the fact that they wrote about how they lost (quite badly). Naturally I corrected them and told them they couldn't write about this because they were supposed to write about their favourite memory.
They told me they understood.
I said they might be mistaken, since they were writing about a competition, and the point of the exercise was to write about something that they found enjoyable, something they would look back on when they were older and smile about, and share with their children and things like that.
They told me they understood, a little more doubtfully this time.
I sensed victory was at hand! I told them that they shouldn't write about a story where they lost, because this was supposed to be a happy memory, one they cherished and wanted to live over and over again, not a memory about something disastrous or off-putting. I was on a roll, and mangled my way through what little Japanese I knew in order to get my point across
They told me they didn't understand, not just due to my horrible grammar, and we ended up staring at each other for a bit before I asked Mr. Ichikawa for help, and he told me that they understood the exercise fine. I, apparently, didn't.
See it turns out I'd forgotten something about Japanese culture, they really do value memories of a sound thrashing more than an easy victory. Their fondest memory was being thrashed, because it gave them a chance to redeem themselves later, something to work to overcome and proof that there was still a long way to go. It was the kind of self-inspiring speeches that would make Canadian high school students grown and get someone in a movie be torn apart by zombies because no one likes an inspirational speech. Except they meant it!
The reason I'm writing about it is that this is the sort of thing I really wanted to get out of Japan, so I'm actually quite happy. And still cold of course, but mostly happy. And now back to burrowing under blankets and killing zombies on my Wii. 1 week until I'm home!
*Apparently said co-workers of my mother don't know my family very well.
So, it's time for another STERLING session of Q&A, because quite honestly I'm too lazy to do anything else.
Q: Are you dead?
A: I thought so, for awhile. Then I realised that I was
considering my life from a cosmic level, and since when the vastness of
both time and space means that the insignificant clustering of atoms
that forms my body and the not-even-instantaneous delusions of
consciousness don't even register. Therefore I had come to believe that
I didn't exist any more and so updating a blog was pointless. THEN I
found out that the new season of Scrubs had started and I should really
start downloading it, and I had to snap out of my delusions to do that
Q: So you're better now?
A: I'm going to treat that question with the contempt it deserves
Q: A lot?
A: Exactly.
Q: However I can safely assume you ARE going to start updating your blog again?
A: Not even remotely close to exactly.
Q: So what's your excuse this time?
A: I'm coming home in a week and a half, for two weeks. I will see
family and friends and be well and everything will be good. FOREVER!
Q: Really?
A: Boy you're gullible today.
Q: Was there call for that?
A: Yes, but allow me to continue so that you don't have to ask another question
Q: Thanks
A: Any time. You see, my mother, in all her infinite glory and
kindness, and above all her wisdom in knowing that her Christmas meals
requires vast quantities of people eating it in order to even make a
dent in the volume produced, has invited large numbers of friends and
relatives over for a party, plus I'll no doubt be seeing people during
the time I'm home outside of this too.
Q: So where's the problem?
A: The problem is that I'll have to TALK to people.
Q: That's a problem?
A: It is for me, because I'm not good at talking to people
Q: I know.
A: Shut up, that wasn't a question! Anyway, that means I'll need a
large volume of Japan stories to tide people over for the holidays, get
it?
Q: Couldn't you just save one or two stories and tell them to
everyone over and over again despite the fact that repeating yourself
makes you twitch and your blood pressure rise to a dangerous level
until you just start focusing on their insignificant little heads, why
can't they understand that this doesn't MATTER any more and why won't
they just shut up and stop talking before my hatred makes your pitiful
little brain EXPLODE!:
A: Right.
Q: So, see you in Vancouver?
A: Exactly! Looking forward to it!
