Behind Enemy Lines: Fighting the Flu

For a long while, we teachers were winning the war. Many of the students had already fallen in battle, but our troop held strong. Our enemy? The dreaded influenza, or as they say in Japan, “influ.”

Last Tuesday, one of the teachers felt sick so he went to the clinic. We got the news shortly after. The devastating news came that the enemy had taken him.

We sprang into action to defend our remaining soldiers, opening windows to ensure air circulation. I am stationed directly next to the infected fighter, so I repelled from my desk faster than two magnets pushed together.

Thankfully, despite my personal apprehensions regarding wearing one, I decided to overcome my awkward feelings and don a mask before school that day. To further bolster my defences, I washed my hands as if I’d developed a sudden obsessive-compulsive fear of germs.

Yet, our efforts began to seem futile after our enemy took one of our own as a hostage. He went missing, and it wasn’t until the next day that he was returned to us. He didn't fall to the flu as the first soldier had. (Is my analogy getting too convoluted? Basically, the second teacher felt ill and went to the clinic, and so he didn't come into school the next day but he got the results that it wasn't the flu). 

Anyways, on another note, I have come to not just tolerate, but passionately adore face masks. They are not only saviours keeping me from getting the dreaded influenza, but also a really nice thing to wear when you are having a “bad face day.”

We all have “bad hair days.” When I have one, I either pull my hair into a sloppy ponytail or wear a hat. But on bad face days, when I had a bit of dry skin in one spot and a huge zit on my cheek, I never knew what to do.  Now, the problem is instantly solved by my new friend, face mask.

Yes, I truly wish it would catch on in the States, but as I discovered first hand, they still induce fear and confusion outside of Japan. When I arrived in Denver still donning my face mask, a terrified looking little boy pointed at me and asked his dad, "what happened to her?" Oh man... I assured him I was fine and let out an involuntary chuckle. 

Yet, it clearly works- guess who is free of the flu? That's right, yours truly!

See? It can be sexy!

Merry Christmas in Japan!

Knowing that December 25^th is not a national holiday here as only 1% of Japan is Christian, I hardly expected to see any decorations. I assumed, quite mistakenly as it turns out, that stores would go about playing synth versions of random American songs from the 1960s-1980s.

I began to realise this would not be the case when I saw how nuts stores went over Halloween decorations. Despite the fact that many children here don’t actually trick-or-treat and some don’t even dress up, it seemed a bit odd that they went all-out with the decorations.

Yet immediately after October 31^st, I realised just how wrong I was in thinking Christmas wouldn't be a massive deal here in Japan. On November 1^st, Christmas lights began to pop up all over the place, and stores changed their soundtracks to playing Christmas carols of all kinds on a loop.

While it’s true that many people have no idea what Christmas actually celebrates, that doesn’t stop them from making merry and participating in the festivities. They do, however, do some things quite differently than we do in America.

Most notably, the Japanese don’t view Christmas as a time for family togetherness, but a day more akin to Valentine's Day. People don’t look forward to cooking turkey, but rather buying some Kentucky Fried Chicken to chow down on. Families also look forward to one thing much more than presents or watching Christmas movies by the fire. No, no. Here, they count down to the day when they can eat Christmas Cake.

NPR wrote a nice in-depth piece about why they love Christmas Cake so much and what it represents. I can tell you from first hand interaction with Japanese pre teens and teens that they look forward to the cake and their KFC far more than the presents. During one particular assignment in which they had to write what they wanted to do for Christmas, a vast majority wrote "I want to eat Christmas Cake." 

Seriously, though, click that article link, it's quite good.

Here are some of my students' interpretations of Christmas:

The Third Hobbit and the End of an Era

I am about to wax emotional in this post about The Hobbit, The Battle of the Five Armies. So, be prepared with your Lactaid so you can handle all of the cheesiness.

I realised as I entered the theatre on opening day that it signified the end of an era. It would be the last Lord of the Rings or Hobbit movie premiere that I would ever attend. This made me feel even more grateful to be there. 

I remember distinctly my first experience seeing a film about the wonderful world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. I was only 11 at the time, and had not been introduced to the books yet. I knew nothing of Orcs or Hobbits, and I had never heard of Gandalf the Grey. My world was about to be turned upside down.

Pick me, pick me!

One day in Chicago, my father suggested we see The Fellowship of the Ring. When my young self discovered the PG-13 rating, I became afraid. At that time, just about any movie monster could potentially give me nightmares for weeks at a time. Actually, not much has changed as far as that goes.

However, my father insisted that it was nothing I couldn't handle, so I agreed to go, though with some reluctance. The instant I beheld Tolkien’s magical world and became acquainted with its inhabitants, I never wanted to be anywhere else.

For every subsequent film, I was there on opening day, sometimes dressed like a creature from Tolkien’s wonderful world. I read the books from cover to cover and loved every second I spent traveling through Middle Earth with all of its inhabitants. I became obsessed to say the least with the films, memorising every line and seeing them many times in theatres.

Peter Jackson has quite the talent for making me cry. No matter how many times I watch The Fellowship of the Ring, I always tear up at the end when Boromir gives his last to save Merry and Pippin. Emotions well up inside me when Sam gives his speech about the fight between good over evil. When Aragorn gives his speech to motivate the troops in the second film, I want to burst through the screen and fight Sauron’s minions myself.

Hold on, let me just get my tissues...

In the last instalment of The Hobbit trilogy, I felt tears welling up behind my eyes at least three separate times. Honestly, it wasn't my favourite of the six Peter Jackson films, but it succeeded in captivating my attention for the entire running time. It was appealing visually, it was emotional, had plenty of action (and of course, some over the top battles featuring Legolas doing badass elf things), and a perfect ending. Martin Freeman was perfect as Bilbo, as usual. 

The songs in the credits of Jackson's films are generally quite impressive, but unfortunately Ed Sheeran, the best singer in the entire world, already sang for the last one so I knew that nothing could top it. I was right of course, but I enjoyed hearing Billy Boyd's (the actor who played Pippin) song nonetheless.

The Japanese teacher who accompanied me to my final Lord of the Rings premiere summarised the film better than I ever could. He said “to me, it is about love, friendship and fight for good.” Well said, sir, well said. I will hold these messages in my heart.

And so, as Gandalf sings, "the road goes ever on and on, back to the door where it began." 

The Good, The Bad, and The Far-From-Ugly Part Four: Anxiety

Anxiety is in no way a bad thing. We all experience it at some point or another, and it can be a useful reaction. But oh dear, did our hostel receptionist feel it. She was a special case, however; it didn't seem that Koreans as a whole felt this sort of crippling worry about tiny matters. 

The first example came when I asked her about how to get to a Christmas tree festival that was being held that day. The second my question left my lips and entered her ear, she looked immediately panicked. "Oh dear..." she began, "that is very, very far..." the way she delivered this news would have been more apt if she was telling me that her beloved pet passed away. It ended up being about 45 minutes by metro. She constantly made even simple tasks seem like the most trying things in the world. 

The next instance occurred when my friend and I informed her that we would be going out for breakfast, but back long before check-out time. The same deer-in-the-headlights expression washed over her face. "But...you won't eat breakfast here??" The hostel breakfast consisted of toast and some instant coffee. Somehow, that didn't sound overly appetising. She seemed so concerned. For what, I am not sure. Concerned that we were actually skipping breakfast altogether? Concerned about the breakfast offerings of the hostel? Concerned that we wouldn't be back for check-out? Concerned for something, that's for sure. 

You're...skipping...breakfast?!

Every reaction of hers seemed like she was on the verge of a panic attack. We tried to soothe her and ease her nerves as much as possible, but it often seemed a futile effort. 

The breaking point for her seemed to be when we asked if we could leave our bags there after check-out and pick them up when it was time for us to leave Busan. This request forced every ounce of colour from her face and rooted her to the spot. "But...but...I must take my lunch break from 1-2!" Poor thing. She probably thought that we wouldn't make it back by 1 and she would have to miss lunch. Knowing how hard Koreans work, I wouldn't be the slightest bit shocked if she'd had to go an entire day without a break before. 

Korean work ethic makes Japanese work ethic look pathetic in comparison, which is really saying something. Some companies don't even give their employees sick days. The lady at the hostel was there from 7:30 AM until 10:00 PM. I hope she doesn't do that every single day, but again, I wouldn't be surprised. 

The Good, The Bad and the Far-From-Ugly Part 3: Hovering

American salespeople do this to some degree in shops. "Hello? Can I help you find anything?" Whenever they say this, I want to scream "NO! LET ME SHOP IN PEACE!" Of course, in reality, I just nod and say I'm fine. 

Today, I also discovered that some Japanese people do this as well. I was browsing for some Christmas gifts and the store saleslady literally followed me every step I took. It quickly drove me to madness and out the door. I felt like in that episode of The Office where Dwight tells the lady "I will literally be RIGHT HERE if you need anything."

However, Korean salespeople take the practice of bugging customers to a whole new level. The second my friend and I entered any sort of shop whatsoever, the employees were on us like a shark on a bloody seal. Sorry, a bit of a gruesome image, but I truly felt like the seal being ripped to shreds in some shops. 

At beauty-product stores, the ladies working there would follow me around and get WAY too far into my personal space bubble. They picked up product after product and told me what each one was. "This lip stick. It for lips." Wow, thank you for that insight. I NEVER would have been able to tell that it was lip stick from the sign underneath it that says "lip stick." Or, from the fact that I can recognise lip stick. You really enlightened me, Miss Beauty Store Employee. Thank you.

"Miss. This is face cream. It cream for face." Wow, really?! Face cream is cream for your face!? I thought face cream was for your foot. My mistake, thanks for clearing that up. 

I am not exaggerating. They told me what EVERY product was as if I couldn't figure it out from the English signs, or from just looking at the product. 

The scariest place for me was the souvenir shop in the airport. It was a feeding frenzy of sharks attacking me, the poor defenceless seal. I am amazed I made it out alive. My ears were bombarded by suggestions and more information about what each item was. "Miss! Miss! This chocolate strawberry." Yes, I have eyes, which enable me to do this magical thing called "seeing." Therefore, with this ability, I can SEE the display of the chocolate which shows a strawberry inside. Amazing.

"Miss! Chocolate is great gift! How about orange chocolate?" If she told me that orange chocolate was chocolate with orange, I would have literally lost my mind. The airport medics would have had to wheel me away in a straightjacket. 

I just wish these employees would realise that doing this simply made me want to buy products that I didn't even want to buy even less than I already did, which I didn't even know was possible. Had I been left to browse in peace, I may have actually purchased something.