Saying "Sayonara" to my School

Though my time in Japan wrapped up over a month ago, there are still stories and experiences swirling around in my head that I was unable to put down in writing in my frantic final days. And honestly, since coming home, I haven't wanted to think about Japan too much just yet. But there are stories that I want to remember, and if I don't write them down, I'm afraid of them slowly fading into something barely recognizable.

One thing I still can't get over is how ceremonious the whole goodbye process is in Japan. It's draining when you're the one saying goodbye. But, as someone who likes things to come full circle, and who likes to be aware of transitions and "last" experiences, I appreciate the time that is devoted to these things. My final big goodbye, to my junior high school, especially stands out in this regard.

I remember when my students first found out I was leaving. It was sometime in June. I was eating lunch with a second-grade class (grade 8 in Canada), and the other teacher in the room came over to my table.

"Did you know that Katie sensei is going back to Canada this summer? She will be leaving Masuda," he said, conversationally.

The kids, at first, appeared nonplussed, or as if they hadn't understood. Then they began talking with each other in Japanese, and I realized they were trying to figure out how to respond when one of them asked the others, "how do you say "sad" in English??"

One of the girls looked at me for a long time. "Katie sensei...why? Why?"
I explained that I would be going back to school in the fall.
"Oh. Very sad."
More group discussion and translation ensued, before one of the boys said, slowly and carefully, "please, don't go."

Fast forward a month and a half. My final goodbye lessons came, and passed by just as swiftly. I don't usually get to lead entire class periods by myself, so it was great to get to do so, and to see the kids having fun while doing it. We played a Jeopardy-style Canadian quiz game, and I gave a talk encouraging them to learn about foreign cultures and to remember that every country is DIFFERENT from Japan and that DIFFERENCE is good -- though I'm not sure how much of it they understood. I even managed to play them a song on guitar -- I was worried that I would choke up, but somehow I managed to make it through. Several students came up to chat at the end of each class, asking more about what I would be doing in Canada or the Green Day song I had just played for them; some of them told me they would email me, and some of them did. And just like that, my classes were over, done, and finished.

But as I said, goodbyes are a big, drawn-out deal in Japan, so of course it wasn't all over just yet. The following week I wrapped up my elementary visits, and then it was time for the official last day of school and my goodbye ceremony. Time to drag my suit out of the closet for one last formal occasion, prepare a 3 minute speech in Japanese, and make sure I remembered when to bow and when to stand and sit. Fortunately, I did remember, and the speech even went okay. The students were shocked to hear so much Japanese come out of my mouth at once, and one of my speech contest students in turn gave a touching English speech to me, while others presented me with flowers and books filled with personal thank-you notes from every kid in the school.

I couldn't seem to get this picture up without it being sideways. Anyway, this boy wrote "good luck" on the back and that he's cheering for me :) "FIGHTO!!"

A whirl of formalities, and the ceremony was over. The rest of the day was spent playing sports and having fun, with students traipsing into the staff room throughout the day to hand me notes and pictures and handmade hair scrunchies.

A note from the two special needs students, in which Yasuhiko tells me that at first, he liked me "just a little", and asks me to please come and watch him play basketball in the All-Yokote tournament when he's in his final year.

After school the teachers met for my goodbye/end-of-term enkai (work party), and I had the most fun that I think I've ever had at an enkai in Japan. I had a chance to talk to almost every single one of the teachers, and didn't feel my usual awkwardness when it was officially time to mingle and move around the room. The teachers presented me with a yukata (a beautiful kimono-style robe worn to festivals in the summer), something I had always loved but never thought to purchase for myself. I even got to joke around with the principal, and had a lengthy discussion with the young school librarian about his favourite books, which eventually turned into him just listing English fictional characters -- "Gandalf! Bilbo Baggins!!!"

I was ready for this to be my final day at Masuda, to make the goodbye official. But I still had to go in one more time the following week, after a slew of days off to clean my apartment, pack, and move out. In the end, I'm glad I got to go back one last time, because it was magical. Truly magical. Get ready for a story of Disney-family-film proportions.

I spent the morning calmly cleaning my desk and chatting to teachers. Watarai sensei even taught me how to play a traditional Japanese card game. When it was time for me to leave, I got up slowly, not really sure what to do. I said a hesitant "well, I guess I'll be going" to one of my JTEs, and before I knew it, the entire staff room was on its feet. A few seconds later, and -- I have no idea how -- it seemed all the other teachers had trickled into the room from around the school. With everyone assembled in what seemed like some sort of prearranged spectacle (but which was really just a standard Japanese farewell procedure), the principal and vice principal came forward to say official bowing goodbyes. Eventually, after spending much time bowing and saying "sayonara" and looking around the room at everyone, there was nothing else to do but start toward the door. And everyone followed me.

This was the first time the emotions of it all began to hit me. I was walking down the hall, down the stairs and to the entryway, as I had at the end of the day for two years. Only this time I wouldn't be coming back. And every teacher in the school was behind me. Soon an announcement came over the intercom that Katie sensei was leaving the building. Once again, it took only seconds before the entire school was crammed into the tiny foyer to watch as I put my shoes on and struggled not to cry. Students filled the hall and all the way up the stairs. I was sure the tears were going to hit, when Watarai sensei started singing "It's Time to Say Goodbye" by Andrea Bocelli; then I just laughed. With one final unified chant, the students all thanked me - "arigatou gozaimashita!!!!!!" I lingered just long enough to soak up the moment, then walked outside.

All of the teams who were practicing halted their drills to stand side-by-side, bow, and say goodbye. "Thank you!" "See you!" "I love you!!!!" Just when I thought things couldn't be more picture-perfect, someone shouted my name from overhead. I looked up, and there were another four dozen students, leaning out of classroom windows all around the courtyard, smiling, waving, and calling my name. That image is burned into my mind, of the school building and all of those kids waving in the sun. I don't even think it was actually a sunny day, but my memory has made it sunny. The last group to say goodbye was the tennis team -- the genkiest all-girls club in the school. Ami came straight up to me and just stopped, forcing her face into a pout. "Very, very, very...sad!!!"

And then it was time to leave.

I'm gonna miss those kids.

Snowstorms and Surprises

"Noooooo!!!"

This isn't a direct quote, but I'm pretty sure this dramatic cry of frustration was uttered at least once between driving through the whiteout to Geto ski resort, struggling through the whiteout from the car to the main building, and staring into the white wall of snow beyond the door where the ski lifts, usually visible, were meant to be. It was probably expressed best when Gavin fell to his knees and shook his fists in defeated anger at the universe. A perfectly reasonable response.

Brave souls.

Two weekends in a row, and two thwarted attempts to go snowboarding at Geto in Iwate, one of the best powdery slopes around. The hill was open, but only one small lift near the bottom was operating, and we could barely see anything five feet in front of us, let alone that single functioning lift, through the pelting snow. We knew it wasn't worth going out, but we weren't ready to let go of our hopes right away.

After confirming that the weather would probably be better the next day, we eventually made our way home - slowly, as the expressway was now closed due to the inclement weather. This was one of those days when we should have just stayed home, though of course the sky was beautiful and perfectly calm back in Yokote. We went out for ramen so that we could feel justified in having left our apartments.

Fortunately for us, the weekend was not to be a complete disappointment - it was Nikki's birthday on Saturday night, which ended up being the perfect combination of relaxed chatting and interesting encounters. We chilled at a local wine and tapas bar, a nice change from the usual Japanese fare we find ourselves surrounded by. We ate cake, although those who were driving home decided to take their slices to go so as to avoid pushing Japan's zero blood alcohol limit, as the frosting contained trace amounts of Bailey's. You can never be too careful.

But the most interested part of the night was when we decided to go to Nihonkai afterwards, a local bar whose owner is friendly with all of the Yokote ALTs (and even friends with many of us on Facebook). Mako-chan is notorious for his love of sake, for cooking up strange and wonderful dishes for us to try, and for falling asleep at some point in the night, but not before telling us to help ourselves to more drinks and just leave our money at the bar when we go. It's a tiny, cozy place, all furnished in wood and decorated with various plastic fish and lots of goofy photos of regular customers and Mako-chan himself. One wall has a list of all the regulars' birthdays. As you can see, it's the kind of place that draws the same crowd night after night, giving it a very familiar feel. It's also nice to walk into a place and have the owner remember your name and call out "hisashiburi!" (it's been awhile).

By the time I arrive at Nihonkai on any given night I've gone, the bar is already strewn with empty glasses, sake cups, several half-finished bottles of drink, and dishes - usually with plenty of leftovers of whatever Mako-chan has decided to serve up. If he's run out of whatever he cooked earlier, you can expect sashimi, slimy seaweed known as konbu, or a variety of other interesting underwater fare to appear in front of you. At Nihonkai, I've tasted more kinds of fish than I know the name for, along with okonomiyaki, whale soup (the most controversial thing I've eaten in Japan by far), and a curious white mush which I later found out was oh-so-delicious fish sperm.

konbu

There is also an acoustic guitar in the corner, and spontaneous jam sessions have been known to happen; usually with Mako-chan singing AKB48 to the ladies, spoken-word style ("I love you, I need you, I want you..."), or with him belting out something by Celine Dion.

On this particular night, there were two other customers when we arrived. They immediately made space for us around them and we chatted in a mix of English and Japanese about where we were from and exchanged various English phrases, like "best friend" and "BFF". One dude, who was wearing a hat made out of wood (!), asked us each several times about our country of origin. It went something like this:

"Where...you from?"
"Canada."
"Oh, CANADA!!!"

*ten minutes later*

"You're from America?"
"No, Canada."
"Oh, CANADA!!!"

*five minutes later*

"In England..."
"I'm from Canada."
"Oh, CANADA!!!

*ten minutes later*

"New Zealand is also very beautiful...is New Zealand beautiful?"
"Yeah, it looks very nice...I mean, I've never been there, I'm from Canada, but I'm sure it's beautiful..."
"Yeaaaahhh, New Zealand...iiiiiii naaaaaaaaa..." (it seems nice; I want to go...)

His next mode of entertainment was by imitating us every time we spoke. Mumbles of gibberish came from his end of the bar anytime one of us English speakers said something. At one point he was trying to communicate in this manner with Kathie, who was on Skype on Nikki's phone, as if his gibberish must certainly amount to meaningful words in our language!

He danced, he gibberish, he Englished, he made faces, he told us not to light his wooden hat on fire. Did this really happen?

At the end of the night, he pulled out his smartphone to add Gavin to Facebook. After several failed searches, probably due to mistyping his name, Gavin took the phone and tried to do it himself. A huge list of Gavins popped up onscreen and, not having the patience to scroll through them to find himself, he quickly chose one near the top - a Gavin with a profile picture of a tiger. "That's me."

"Oh, TIGER-san! Tiger Gabiiiin!!!"

Yes, yes. Tiger Gavin.

I got one last surprise as we were about to pull away in the car, when I looked out the window to see Wooden Hat Man staring straight in back at me.

There must also be a very surprised Gavin out there in the world right now, wondering who this Japanese, wooden hat-wearing man is who wants to be his friend.

Exploring Yamagata

The great thing about living abroad is getting the chance to really saturate a particular area of a country. Upon returning home, I will have a rare insider’s perspective on this far-flung, remote little corner of Japan called Akita, one which most people will never even get the chance to visit.

There are lots of other beautiful areas of Tohoku which are just a daytrip or short weekend trip away from me, and I’m glad to have the opportunity to revisit some of my favourite places, having been here for more than one year. Back in the fall, Gavin and I decided to do a weekend trek around Yamagata, the prefecture just south of Akita, full of gorgeous natural and historical sites. I’ve been to Yamagata at this point many times, but was happy to go back. I think I even enjoyed some things more the second time around.

We started out one Saturday morning with a pleasant drive down the coast to Sakata, which is apparently a beach resort city, though its beauty wasn't exactly striking on that grey November morning. At one point we jumped out of the car to see the crashing waves, only to stand there shivering as the wind whipped against our faces.

Beautiful, beautiful Sakata. Fun fact: the name Sakata means "alcohol fields"

Fashioning a snowman out of sand

We continued on in search of a famous five-tiered pagoda that Gavin had read about in a Lonely Planet guide, but when we reached the supposed destination, all we could see was a mediocre temple and a garden pagoda not much taller than he was. I couldn't help but laugh at his frustration that we must be at the wrong spot, while I insisted that, surely, this was the pagoda that Lonely Planet had spoken so highly of.

Eventually we sorted ourselves out and found the real pagoda - and it was quite a sight. We wandered through the temple grounds, listening to the breeze rustling the cedars and monks chanting nearby.

Cruising through the mountains, we were greeted by our first sighting of what has now become an excessive, everyday reality: snow. Watching the flakes fall outside as we drove those winding backcountry rads gave me a bit of a thrill. The anticipation of change, of winter, of snowboarding, of curling up inside with blankets and cups of tea and good books...just some of the many things I like about the season, despite my dislike of the cold.

We stayed in a small guesthouse in Yamagata city, which was the first experience I've had indoors in Japan from November to April where I actually felt warm. Cozy, even! Usually the kerosene heaters typical of most Japanese homes, schools and inns only warm a small portion of a room or building, leaving me with cold feet and hands, and forcing me to put on an extra sweater anytime I leave the room to wander down a hallway. But not this place. This place was genuinely comfortable, a comfort which extended to the decor and warm hospitality. It felt like we were staying in someone's home, and we were encouraged to help ourselves to most of the contents of the fridge, as well as play with the resident cats.

Cats! There were so many. Gavin's love of felines quickly became apparent...

The owners were friendly, and we chatted for awhile in both English and Japanese before we headed off to grab dinner and explore the city. Yamagata city isn't huge, so there wasn't much to see, but it has a pleasant downtown area with a variety of ethnic foods and interesting shops. The next day we found a fantastic coffee shop that had been recommended to me by a friend. Housed in a train car and filled with knick knacks from the owner's world travels, the shop sat overlooking the river, with a great view of the changing leaves. Here we were also able to chat with the owner, whose English was superb, while we sipped our espresso and chai tea and tried out his collection of international musical instruments.

Finally, we visited what had been one of my favourite places in Yamagata on a previous daytrip - Yamadera. A Buddhist temple built into the rocks of a cliff, the view is as impressive and beautiful as the peaceful forst pathway that meanders to the top. Having ben here during the summer, when the cicadas buzz and the shady path is a welcome relief from the heat, it was great to get to see it in the fall as well. The sunlight streaming in through the trees created a magical, Ghibli-esque atmosphere, and we lucked out with a perfect sunny day.

Scenery shot - photo bombed

"What is my life?"

Some corny jokes, good road trip tunes (Boney M Christmas album!!), general silliness, and several cat impressions later, and we were rolling back into Akita. We were welcomed by the sudden sight of Mount Chokai's snowy peak, glowing white in the darkness ahead. Such a beautiful mountain. I'm glad I still have some time to soak up my surroundings here, as there are lots of places I'd still like to visit, and others I hope to return to again.

From the classroom, lunchroom and halls

My students crack me up daily. They are honestly the best part of my days, weeks, and life here.

For one thing, they are endlessly creative in their translations to English.  "Japanese speedy-speak" for "Japanese tongue twisters", "my foot was shocking" to describe how their feet fell asleep in Buddhist temple meditation, and "playing human watching" to describe the act of people-watching.

Sometimes it's just passing comments.

(at an elementary school)
me: How are you??
little boy: I'm CANDY!!!

(junior high - supposed to find a way to ask a teacher what they did on spring vacation)
"Do you spring vacation?"
(teacher relates the proper question to him) "What did you do on your spring vacation?"
"Yes I am!!"

(conversation in the hall with one of my junior high boys, who has clearly met me many times before)
"Hello!".
"Hello."
"Uhhhh...nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too."
"I am...nice body!!!"
"oh."

I had a boy hand in a written assignment that said he got drunk on the bus on the class trip...but my teacher told me the Japanese sometimes translate the same word for "drunk" as "sick". That was an interesting one to figure out.

Sometimes they get creative with names.

Sometimes they mishear my English - today, instead of "at the end of April", they got "endless April", which they thought was hilarious. Everything in that class became "endless" - "endless April", "endless worksheet" (or something) and finally the classic "I am endless boy!"

One day at lunch one of my third-years decided it would be a good idea to make his regular milk into strawberry milk by mashing up his strawberry inside the carton. He enlisted his friends' help by asking for scissors so he could cut a hole in the top, which turned out to be a bit too small. Instead of fixing it he just set to work poking at the berry with his straw, attempting to squish it into his drink. During this process he squirted milk onto his school uniform. Panic ensued. His friend calmed the chaos by whipping something out of his pocket and saying reassuringly (in Japanese), "don't worry, I have tissues!!" I turned to the girls next to me and asked what they thought of the whole project.
"Crazy, crazy, crazy!"
"No. It's good idea."
"He's crazy. Crazy boy."
"No I'm not. I'm great!"


Later, to himself:
"I'm great!"


Later still:
"I'm strawberry."

Makes me smile

My teacher said "Avril Lavigne" in class. Boy at the back laughed; "Ha! "Avril LaBieber!!"

***

The sentence "Doraemon [popular anime character] is yammier [*yummier] than pizza" cropped up on a student's worksheet. I asked this particular boy if he eats Doraemon; he seemed confused.

***

I asked the hypothetical question "This weekend: you can do anything you want. What will you do?" in a warmup activity. Some of the students were real creative geniuses, planning weekends trips to outer space and conquering the world. Others, however...I don't think they quite understood the question. Like the boy who said that he would stay at his home. And study English.

***

I sometimes get asked very strange questions. Such as "How many toilets do you have in your Canada home?" and whether mannequins have faces in my country.

Shortly after this one, I found out that mannequins do not have faces in Japan.

***

And...I currently feel incapable of using a computer. I spilled peach tea on my laptop keyboard, making the keys rather sticky. Not only that but the layout of my Japanese keyboard from work has become so engrained in my mind that I keep hitting numbers instead of quotation marks.