Sexist Language

My ears are open wide every time I am in the teachers' room at school. I listen constantly, hoping to absorb Japanese in any way possible. The English teacher next to whom I sit frequently said "よし," or "yoshi" (but it is drawn out, and sounds like "yoshhh") before he would go to class. I thought about what it meant, and eventually realised that it was used as a way to mentally prepare yourself for something. I grew to love the word, especially because it is one for which we don't really have a translation in English. So, of course, I adopted it into my vocabulary. I began to say it before class and before anything that I was nervous about doing. 

Saying よし became as much of a habit as breathing. I used it when I was alone. I used it in public. Yoshi! Just thinking the word made me feel so much more prepared for the task before me. 

YOSHI!

Then, today, my spirits sank.

On Sunday mornings, I teach a class in Konosu. The students are Japanese men aged 60 and over, and teaching them is extremely fun for me. Their English is already at fluency level, and they love listening to my grammar rants (people generally hate when I correct their grammar, but not these guys). They also enjoy answering my questions about Japanese.

So, today I decided to ask them about "yoshi." They stared at me wide-eyed and didn't hesitate whatsoever to inform me that ladies NEVER say "yoshi," and that it is something ONLY men can say. I felt panic come over my face, perhaps a bit extreme of a reaction. But, but....よしwas something I came to love! I couldn't fathom the idea of parting with such a wonderful word! I begged them, irrationally, asking if there was any way I could use it. Perhaps my status as a foreigner meant it was okay and I could get away with it? Please?? They simply shook their heads. They told me I had to let go of よし. I had to move on. But, I simply can't grasp that idea. I just can't let go of my beloved よし. 

Why must Japanese be so sexist? As I spoke a slew of other colloquial phrases I had picked up in the teachers' room, they informed me that 85% of them were not acceptable for females to speak. I felt so unbearably crushed. I just can't accept that. 

So...regardless, I say よし! Perhaps not in front of them, however...

I Followed a Cartoon Cat

I discovered the place where I would want to live if I ever decided to settle in Japan. I feel reluctant to share it with the world. This little town is a lovely little secret which I almost want to keep that way.

I have always loved the Miyazaki film 耳をすませば, or Whisper of the Heart. It features the John Denver song "Country Roads" (the result of which being that every Japanese person knows that song by heart) and is a charming and touching tale of young love. 

I decided that while I am in Japan, I should check out some of the places that inspired Miyazaki films. I did some research and found that Whisper of the Heart takes place in a small city in West Tokyo called 

多摩ニュータウン, Tama New Town, accessible by the rail station Seiseki-Sakuragaoka on the Keio line. 

When I arrived, I felt discouraged. It took about an hour to get there, and the small city seemed nothing more than a typical city with way too much concrete and not nearly enough foliage. Little did I know, this was merely a farce, for hiding behind the expanse of buildings lie the loveliest neighbourhood nestled into the hills.

After wandering aimlessly around the station and taking a photo of the famous Keio store sign from the movie, I decided to give up on finding real life areas of town portrayed in the movie. 

However, just at that moment, I saw a little sign near one of the entrances to the station. It depicted the path that the cat in the film takes when the main character decides to follow it. I made up my mind to follow the path of the animated cat as well.

Doing so turned out to be a wonderful decision. It led me away from the heart of the city up a winding road and multiple steep staircases into a beautiful and neighbourhood. 

The homes were massive by Japanese standards and nestled inconspicuously into the hillside. Stunningly beautiful trees of every colour formed a canopy over many parts of the neighbourhood and gave off the earthy aroma of the earlier rain. As a side note, one of my hands-down favourite things about autumn in Japan is the intense juxtaposition of colours. Some trees are void of leaves, some are vibrant red, some yellow, and some are still as green as they were in summer. 

Walking through the silent streets brought me immense peace, and led me to the decision that if I ever decided to stay in Japan forever, it would be in that neighbourhood.

One of my favourite parts of visiting that town was how off-the-beaten-path of a destination it was. The only other foreigner I saw was a man sitting in the Starbucks in the station. 

I am sure the locals were figuratively rolling their eyes when they saw me snapping photos of the buildings featured in the Miyazaki film, thinking “yep, another American obsessed with Japanese animation.” I also imagine they are sick of hearing a digitized version of “Country Roads” playing every time a train arrives at the station, but I found it charming.

I’m immensely glad I decided to follow the cat from the movie. Even if it is just a cartoon.

Black Friday Lesson

I’m seldom proud enough of my lesson plans to feel the need to share them through my blog. Generally, my ideas are slightly-altered versions of ESL activities that I find online or ideas shared with me by other teachers. However, the activity I came up with for today was entirely my own, and rather creative in my oh-so-humble opinion.

I couldn't for the life of me come up with a creative Thanksgiving lesson plan. Crap, one came to me just now, I could have had the kids plan a menu for an imaginary turkey dinner. Oh well. I digress…

I decided to give up on Thanksgiving all together, but I came up with a rather genius plan. I figured that most of my students would have at least heard of Thanksgiving, but I assumed (correctly, I later discovered) that not of them knew about Black Friday. And because the world isn’t full enough of consumers as it is (I hope you all detect the sarcasm in that statement), I figured I should spread the knowledge and focus my lesson plan on teaching my students how to shop.

Don’t worry, I didn’t bypass Thanksgiving completely. I showed them pictures of the holiday and explained the history in the simplest terms possible. Then came the main event. I printed out pages and pages of Black Friday advertisements from this year and passed them out to the students. The objective was for the students to make a list of whom they needed to buy Christmas presents for, look though the ads, and choose a present for each person. Then they needed to formulate sentences using the pattern: I will buy a (gift) for (recipient of gift). It is on sale for (price). At the end, they needed to add all of the prices together to determine their budget for Black Friday shopping.

Anyways, the most enjoyable part for me stemmed from my asking them to choose a present for me. Looking through their papers and grading them has seldom been more amusing for me. The students who quickly made it into a prime spot at the top of the list of my favourites were the ones who planned to buy me cameras, laptops, and other fancy goods. I worried initially when one student said he would buy me a Playstation 4 controller, as I don’t have a Playstation to control with it. I breathed a sigh of relief, however, when one of the other students wrote that she would buy me a Playstation. Along with a Playstation, my students plan to buy me three iPhones, five cameras, about 20 sets of headphones, an electric scooter, three TVs, an iPad air, a new suitcase, and diamond earrings. 

I guess I shouldn't have corrected this student. She IS buying me a TV, after all...

Interspersed with those awesome choices were some head scratchers including an air mattress, a hockey table, a clock, and a trampoline. One kid decided he would get me a waffle maker. Another plans to buy me some Tupperware. Another kid figured I really needed an HDMI cable, and another thought I’d want some new Sharpie markers. Whatever, those kids get points for making me laugh.

Number 3. 

Too bad this is all imaginary…

One kid made me laugh out loud awkwardly in the silent teacher’s room when I read the comment he wrote. Please read his answer to "How much will you spend on Black Friday?"

The Japanese Radish

Today, I got a vegetable as a gift. I can see you all now, picturing someone handing me a tiny carrot or a single head of broccoli. Not the case. This vegetable is a Japanese white radish. I think it could easily set some records for its massive size. That’s what she said. Sorry, I couldn't help myself with an opportunity like that. It is about three feet long, easily (that’s what she said, again. Okay, I’m done now.).

Honestly, I just don’t know how to approach this vegetable, much like the nerdy kid in class trying to ask the most popular girl in class out on a date. Actually, since I am trying to chop up and eat it, perhaps that is the wrong analogy. I feel more like a lion observing a giraffe from afar. I desperately want to eat it, but it seems too difficult a task. I feel like I need to call up my lion friends to act as backup in the giraffe ambush.

I think this radish could easily win in a fight against my lone dollar-store kitchen knife. So I am left with a couple of options. Purchase a costly new knife that could actually slice through an enormous radish or spend an hour slowly hacking away at it with the pathetic knife I already own.

GIANT RADISH!

Another teacher suggested that I use it for bicep curls, since the thing easily weighs about 8 pounds. It led to a good deal of laughs in the teacher room when I acted out a radish workout.

Personally, I am holding out hope for a third option: that it magically transforms into a radish spirit like the one in Spirited Away. I refuse to let it rot. I will not allow such an impressive, homegrown vegetable to die in any way other than being digested by me. Perhaps I will just eat it raw, bite-by-bite. That doesn't sound too appealing, so I’ll just keep repeating the mental mantra, “please let it turn into a radish spirit,” over and over in my mind until it happens. That’s totally logical, right?
 

The radish spirit