卒業式 (graduation ceremony)

My beloved children graduated last week without you even knowing. Ah, the little demons will now head out into the Great Beyond: a life of drudgery at cellphone shops and pachinko parlors for most of them, no doubt. The carefree days are over: Adulthood is here. This horribly sad event occurred last Thursday. Almost all of my favorite classes are 3rd year, so I too was depressed about my future. Luckily I've got 2 or 3 classes that keep me going in the second years.... first years are all just bad uns.

It was a graduation ceremony not unlike our own in America.

I say that. But who am I to talk? I sooo didn't go to my high school graduation. Ok, I have no idea if it's similar or not, but I would bet you that there was certainly a lot more bowing involved here. As the tinkle-tinkle music box song played in the background, every single kid got their name read, bowed to the teacher, got the certificate, bowed again, walked down the stairs, bowed to the administrative head and VP, bowed to the teachers, sat down. I got so bored after a while that I started counting things.

*Number of students who tried to bow and walk at the same time and fell down the stairs: 8

*Number of students who stopped at the top of the stairs and yelled something inappropriate at the top of their lungs: 12. Like, a high pitched, "GINOWAN HIGH IS AAAAAWESOME!!!!!!" giggle giggle run away.

*Number of kids who actually fell asleep in their seats during their own graduation ceremony: about 1/5. Yeah, my kids are sleep-in-their-seat MEISTERS. If there's one thing you ever learned from my blog, let it be never go up against a Japanese kid when it comes to sleeping. And those are true words of wisdom.

Above, you see a Japanese graduation tradition called the 花道 (hanamichi) Road of Flowers. After the graduation ceremony, all friends, family, and peers wait along the sides of the walkway and the 3rd years all do a spectacular slow-mo exit of the gym. Flowers are pressed upon them from all sides! Strategically placed bubble-blowing-girls work hard to create an atmosphere of mystical heroism! And most bizarrely of all, necklaces made of strung together candy bars are draped around their necks by their peers.

Then, there was the Graduation Party. This is the equivalent to the American PROM. Except that it is nothing like the prom. Though once again, I find myself talking out of my ass. I didn't go to my prom OR my graduation. I was Disgruntled Youth. Well, I was pleased to be invited to the Graduation party by the students at any rate. I was told that it would take place from 6-9pm at the ugly building next to the fire station, and Id get free snacks but that there would be no dancing, no one would talk to me, and beyond that female and male students wouldn't talk to each other. So I was unsure what to expect. It surely didn't sound like a prom. No dancing? What were they going to do? I figured they'd all just show up in their school uniforms and chow down for a few hours. Boy was I wrong. Don't let anyone fool you into thinking that people cant dress fancy just because their party is in an ugly building with folding chairs. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for having chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans (yeah, bad ideas like that seem really good to me at times) when I walked in and found 100s of spectacularly garbed students. I didn't recognize most of them without their school uniforms, natural hair, and seating numbers. It was certainly the prom. Sorry, I didn't get any pictures of the really good ones. Some of the girls, for example, where wearing tiaras and ball gown get ups. Some interesting fashion differences that I shall note for you here between American and Okinawan kids:

* boys like to wear large, fake jewel earrings. Like a big multi-faceted amethyst stud. And I mean, BIG. Usually 2 in one ear.

* No matter what the rest of their outfit looks like, girls will have a shawl draped around their shoulders. Showing boob outline must be a big big no-no here. I mean, they had slits up to their panties in the dresses, 3 inch heels, insane extensions in their hair but a jacket or shawl was always present.

Something I found funny was that between the time that school graduation ended (about 2pm) and the party started at 6pm, nearly 20% of the boys had bleached their hair blond.

I am an adult! Hear me ROAR! This statement cries, in this culture. In reality it cried,

I have bad taste and ugly hair now! I know never to trust Shouhei again with powerful chemical substances near my scalp!

But it makes sense. School kids aren't allowed to wear earrings or dye their hair, even highlights. Thus the tawdry glass earrings and blinding hair.

Above, Junko sensei with 3 boys from her homeroom class, as well as her daughters.

So, they were right about the party being a bit lame. I sometimes forget that Japanese kids are way behind American in inter-gender relations. They really didn't talk to each other at all. They must have spent hundreds of dollars doing their hair and nails and buying their outfits but the only thing that happened was that the girls stood on one side of the room, the boys on the other, they giggled, then they toasted cola, they wished that they were courageous enough to talk to each other and did a lot of blushing, then they ate, then the big party event. The real fun. The true excitement.... yeaaaaaa you know whats coming.....

WE PLAYED BINGO!!!!!

i am what puffy likes to eat.

I want to help all of you to understand how strange both Japan and my job are. Here are some of the things I have been told to say in class in the last few days:

"Constipated! Constipated! Constipated!"
"I always cover my dung." "I always cover my dung."
"I am what Puffy likes to eat." "I am what Puffy likes to eat."

I didn't dare ask who, or what, a Puffy was. The whole sentence sounded wrong. But I was supposed to be a crab. That much I was sure of. I'm thinking Puffy might have been Buffy, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Does anyone watch that show? Does Puffy like crab?

Now I'm going to tell you the story of constipated!

Due to senior graduation, my schedule has been completely turned on its head and I am now teaching with 3 English JTEs with whom I have never taught before. One of these people is insane. This story isn't about him though. One of these teachers is the new bright and shiny part of my day. Here's the only photo I have of him (which may give you an idea of why he is AWESOME).

On Friday we went to 2-6 together. I walk in. Class hasn't started yet. He tells me, onaka ga itai (my stomach hurts). Oh, I'm sorry I say. He turns back to the podium and leans on it, tapping his fingers restlessly and staring out at the class as they chatter amongst themselves. A few moments pass in silence, as I stand next to him and stare out at the class as well. From the serious look on his face I pick up with a quick peripheral glance, I assume we are contemplating their education, their futures, the fate of Okinawan... but then he turns back to me, blinks from behind his glasses and says in dead seriousness,

"I have diarrhea."

Ehhh, oh. I stutter back. He takes that as words of condolence, he nods, turns back out to face the class and exclaims in Japanese, "I have diarrhea!" "I have diarrhea, today my stomach doesn't feel good! Gas!"

Oh, too bad. The kids are in sympathy. Right, they don't seem to think this is weird. Then they start talking in Fast Japanese (a language I don't speak well) for a few minutes. Sensei turns back to me and says,

Yes, can you please write it on the board?

Uhhh, write what? I stutter again.

Diarrhea, yes please could you please give us the spelling? He nods encouragingly.

Well, you all know my spelling abilities. Like, as if each one of these blog entries doesn't get spell-checked twice and still have mistakes. I tell him I don't actually know how to spell that.

More Fast Japanese with students.

How about the other one? He queries. You know, Hand motions at his rear-end, then stomach and a bit of a batsu X made with his hand. Then ... No!

Luckily, I have become very good at figuring such speech out. Don't think that time has been spent in vain, ha!

Constipated? I ask.

Yes! That's right! Can you please share with us the spelling of that word on the board?

Suuuuuuure I can! I pick up a piece of pink chalk and write CONSTIPATED in giant block letters. Everyone stares at it.

Con-, conpi-, consuto-, conupa-, consuchi- Sensei tries to pronounce the word a few times in vain. The kids are also looking at it as if it is a habu snake.

Please, Joyce. You will read for us? Well, ok!

This is how I find myself shouting, "constipated!" "constipated!" "constipated!"

Everyone, try to repeat after Joyce! Sensei shouts, clearly enjoying himself (but not for any of the obvious reasons. Simply because we are learning new vocabulary).

I watch a sea of 30 kids frunch their brows and chorus, "conusuchipeeeto!"
Over. And over. And over again.

Wait, it gets better. Then sensei decides we need to practice this new word. He goes down the rows of students and one by one, asks each of them,

"[name], are you constipated?" Followed by a friendly smile and fatherly blink from behind his glasses. "No, I'm not constipated" answered each student. Until we got to the third row. Then, the kid in front answered, "Yes! I'm constipated!" Oh, the honesty. It kills me.

Tell me readers: what would happen in your respective cultures if an uncool, lanky kid in glasses in the front row said "I am constipated!" in front of the entire class? Not what happened here (and don't worry for not having figured out that this was coming, if you didn't. I wasn't expecting it at the time either).

You are?! Yes!!! Cries the teacher. Everyone claps. You are a winner, he informs the child. But hold on. We continue up and down the rows, just to make sure that no more constipated winners are lurking amongst us. As the last boy answers, "no I am not constipated," the teacher whirls around, races back to Lanky Glasses, grabs his arm and yanks him to his feet with a fist in the air shouting "You are the Champion! You are the champion!" and we have another round of applause, plus a few giggles from the kids who are with me on this one (surprisingly few).

What do you think this kid won? No don't guess, it's wrong. After all the cheers he got for not drinking his 8 cups a day, he got quite a disappointing prize. He got sent up to the front of the class to be blessed with a 2-minute real-life ekaiwa (English conversation) practice session with me.

Despite some suggestive eyebrow raises from sensei, I resolutely refused to utilize our new vocabulary and ask the child whether he was constipated during our chat.

Here's a picture of this class. Maybe it will help you understand more about them:

More about that

Wow. I was bombarded with emails about how funny you all thought my kids' test answers were. I guess I've gotten so used to it. I barely even realize the hilarity of Engrish. You know, it's not just tests that bring out funny English. My Every Day functions on a level only marginally above what was exposed in my last post, with most people. I even find myself modifying my speech in the hopes that I will be better understood. No more contractions. Nope. No more articles in places where its clear you don't need them (seriously, who needs articles at ALL anymore? They`re so 90s). These days I'm full of enthusiastic statements like,

`EHHHH?! You will go Tokyo for kurisumasu holiday?! Sugoi!`

An even worse example: I now consistently use then instead of so, in a sentence like,

`My kids have no school today, then, I take holiday leave.`

Japanese people really like to do that. I don't know why. But what they like... Joy-su likes. Except that this is really pronounced (by both myself and others) as den, since Japanese people have trouble with the interdental fricatives. No shame there, those things are tough!

I also have to teach funny English lessons sometimes. If the teacher doesn't ask me to edit their handout, I'm stuck agreeing with their Engrish. The hardest part is reading it out loud to the kids. You really have to concentrate hard to read what they've written and not say it correctly. Look, this is the lesson I taught today (kids got this on their handout too):

Screen de Lesson

Let`s learn English expressions while watching one Sheen of movie `Anastasia` and understand contents of the stories

10 years ago royalty family get separated because of the festivity of Rasputin. Anastasia is too young and does not have any memories of her past is brought up in an orphan home as Anya.This is scene where Anastasia is going to Paris for a trip of search for hereself. But The empress bets the prize money on looking for Anastasia and Anastasia meets with Domitri and Vladimir who aim at the prize money. But She has to get Visa to go to paris and meet with them

Let`s watch the Sheen!
- Expalin a meaning of each word.
- Practice pronaunciation.,

The darartd of Norbanbar and Erebor ate gaybytc on Weduesday.

The horrendous monotony of my day has been broken by Junko-sensei`s tests. She is one of the only senseis that actually takes me up on my desperate offers to grade tests (and you know I must be desperate if grading sounds like fun). Actually, grading tests IS pretty fun, as long as it`s written answers that you can laugh at (as opposed to A, B, C). This is exactly what I got today. Not only was I lucky enough to get written answers, everyone was required to write a 6 line dialogue for the final. Subject: bumping into Joyce in the hallway.

First let me say that Japanese kids rock out the spelling of English words. Not rock in a the sense of getting it right, but rock in an `oh my, that is AWESOMELY wrong but oh so funny` sense. Here are a few of the variations I got on these tests for the following words:

CABBAGE: gaybytc, green bowl, green leaf, cabets, chabet, cavage
DAUGHTER: darartd, douter, dorter, dauter, doughter, dauther
ELBOW: erebor, elbor, adley, elbo, ellbo, aible
WEDNESDAY: wemd day, wenedbay, weduesday (mixed that up with Tuesday!), webnesday
NOVEMBER: norbanbar

Last but definitively not least, a good 50% of the students wrote POPAI for... you guessed it. SPINACH. Not a single student wrote `spinach`. Several wrote hourensou (Japanese), and the rest left it blank. Everyone who didnt do either of those two things wrote POPAI (pop-eye). Lovin` it, y`all.

Now to the dialogues with Joyce. I will give you a few, since I am bored and clearly so are you, if you are blog surfing.













STUDENT Hello Joyce
JOYCE (silence)
STUDENT I Love Joyce
JOYCE (silence)
STUDENT Good bye. Joyce.
JOYCE See you!

STUDENT Hi joyce.
JOYCE How are you?
STUDENT I farin tancs.
JOYCE Farin too.
STUDENT Wart go to cras room?
JOYCE Yes! Bey!

STUDENT Hi Joyce teacher.
JOYCE Hi how are you how was test?
STUDENT Im soso. test was very tiyerd.
JOYCE Oh! Good Job!
STUDENT I felt so difficult is math. Sad.
JOYCE I`m can`t math too :-(

STUDENT Hi Joyce!
JOYCE Hellow, are you going to now?
STUDENT I going to cras room.
JOYCE Oh reary!
STUDENT yes!
JOYCE see you.

STUDENT Hi Joyce techer, How are you?
JOYCE Hi. I fain and you?
STUDENT I`m butt!
JOYCE OH. are you ok? Why?!
STUDENT today is test.
JOYCE I see! dont mind! but are you study very hard to do, FIGHT!!!

STUDENT Hi ms. Joyce. How are you?
JOYCE I fain tank you.
STUDENT It give me chocoreet in Barenterin? Yes who is it?
JOYCE I give she chocoreet for you.

STUDENT Good morning joyce.
JOYCE Hi chihiro.
STUDENT I love Joyce, give chocreat.
JOYCE Realy?
STUDENT Happy velentain!

STUDENT Good morning Joyce.
JOYCE Hi good morning.
STUDENT How are you?
JOYCE I fine and you?
STUDENT I fine thankyou and you?
JOYCE Oh... please listen to my SAYING!
STUDENT I`m kidding I sorry!

Valentine's Day

Today was Valentine's Day in Japan as well as America. The main difference is that here, February 14th is a holiday where ONLY women give cards or gifts to men. March 14th is a second holiday called White Day. On White Day, it's the dudes turns to give back to the ladies. Aren't Japanese people weird? Come on, that's our holiday anyway. Like, what's up with the splitting it into two pieces and giving materialism twice as much fodder?

According to my friend Rachel, chocolate is the #1 thang to do here on Vday. I was glad to read her blog entry because my teachers had been blathering nonsense to me all week about what they were calling `Duty Chocolate` and I hadn`t a clue what they were talking about. Rachel clarifies on her blog:

There are two specific types of chocolate gifts that should be handed out by women to the men in their lives. One is called giri-choko, which translates as "obligation chocolate" and should be given to male coworkers, friends, etc. There is no implication of romantic feelings, only gratitude and friendship. The other is honmei-choko which is given to a love interest, usually with another small gift, like a necktie.

Anyway, to show Okinawa how much I love her on this fine day, I swam into the ocean and wrote a note to her across the sea... actually no, I just made her this picture on the computer. But that was the idea! Happy Valentine's Day, Okinawa.

Just Another Friday

Every few months my school seems to have these surprise celebrations for unfathomable reasons. I'm sure that everyone else is informed far ahead of time. Usually no one remembers to tell me (since of course multiple notices have appeared in jibber-jabber-kanji in everyones mailboxes and it's been announced a zillion times in jibber-jabber on the intercom) until half an hour ahead of time. Ok. So on Friday it turned out that we would all be attending the gym after lunch for what I've come to expecct as "the usual": girls hip-hop dancing, boys breakdancing, Masayoshi dressed as a goose making lewd sex jokes (teachers trying to get the mike away from him), Kuuske (one of the larger more motorcycle-gangish 3rd years) ripping off his uniform shirt and jumping onto the stage in excitment to join the terrified first-year girls in their pathetic dance-routine, the buck-toothed kid dressed as a geisha (are we laughing with him or at him?), teen rock and punk bands with white towels tied around their heads, and this time something new... stage diving!!!! Yay. Here is my blurry picture of Masa (the goose) stage diving. I would like to add that the first person to try stage-diving was Dan-san. the crowd hurriedly parted and he did a classic belly-flop BAM! right onto the floor.
Here is a photo of Kuuske in the midst of the freshmen girls dance routine:

Here is a photo of the buck-toothed geisha, with whom I choose to laugh, despite the language barrier:

Daito Meets the Big City

This week, Minami Daito Jon is crashing at my place. It`s not often that these distant island-boys like Jon (whose island is a small rock in the ocean, 17 hours by ferry away from the Okinawan mainland, with nothing but sugarcane, 1,500 people, and a karaoke bar) come to visit us in the big city. This time round Jon made the unfortunate decision to see even more of mainland life: he came to school with me. Except actually I was sick and he ended up going to my school by himself. My school is half the population of his entire island. Now, I`m not a Hater. I didn't send Jon to any badly behaved classes. In fact, I sent him to 3 classes that I describe as well-behaved.

On Minami daito there is no high school, bc there aren't enough people. Plus, picture growing up on a rock with 1,500 people. You know everyone and see them every day. The kids are well behaved, don`t have evil influences or motorcycle gangs, etc. Jon said that after his day of classes at Ginowan High, he has a new-found appreciation for Daito kids. Yes, Jon was not impressed by academic excellence at Ginowan High (though he quite enjoyed my students genkidom outside of class). Jon did not find the classes I sent him to well-behaved, as I had described them. So, I had meant that they were quiet. But when I say `quiet` the truth of the matter is that they are completely unresponsive. A lot sleep, the rest are zombies. Won`t talk. Won`t nod. Won`t show a single sign of life. Sullen stares from all sides. But at least they're not yelling, tying each others heads up with tape or standing on the desks. You know. Thats what I`d been thinking when I said well-behaved. Oh well. Its all for the best, as Jon will now go back to his rock a happier man, content with the well-behaved, bright-eyed children that are his to teach. Above is a picture of Jon with 2-3, the one class that did make him happy. They are the best class in school! See if you can find Jon among the crowd.

3-4

Today was the last class with 3-4. I baked them peanut butter cookies (a big hit in Japan, btw) and they devoured them. After that, an unexpected ceremony of sorts took place. Each student stood up at their desk, one by one, and gave me a little speech. They were told to say "whatever the wanted" to me. I got a lot of compliments on my baking skills (this not having been the first time they experienced my cookies) and a lot of this-year-was-really-awesome-thank-yous. But I also got a few surprises. This one kid very seriously told me that I am "really cute". Not even an eyelid flutter accompanied it. I looked at the sensei but she didn't seem to think it inappropriate so I thanked him graciously. Two kids told me they love me. Thanks again? One kid asked me if we were allowed to date now that he wouldn't be my student anymore. One kid asked if they could have their parties at my house from now on. Then it was Masaki's turn. Someone kicks him awake, as he is sleeping on his desk. He rubs his eyes, stands up, apologizes for having been naughty all year, then goes back to sleep. Cuuuuute! Another kid who I'd always taken to be a jokester without a serious bone in his body turned out to be the class PRES and gave a bit of a lengthy speech (these are in Japanese) wherein he declared something like, "in life, we will go many places and meet many people. You, too, will move on away from Okinawa and meet many people and have many new experiences. But maybe, someday, we will all meet again." Sniffle sniffle sniffle. This week is full of sniffles.

Then we all had to get together for a group photo (group photos are almost as much of a given as rice in Japan). The cellphone cameras clicked and dazzled us. And then it was over.... alas, I shall miss my kiddies. We'll see if 2-4 (who I don't really know since I don't teach 2nd years) can fill their shoes next semester!

がんばろう!

In the last days of life before adulthood hits them in the face like a sack of bricks, my 3-4 boys performed a remarkable feat. My boys pulled their late-night-partying, motorcycle-drag-racing boot-ays into school at the crack of dawn. Then they drove up north and ran back down. Yup, they RAN from Nago to Ginowan.

Ok, you don't live here so that means nothing to you. In a car, this trip is 1.5 hours on the normal highway, 45 minutes on the expressway... I think its about 80km. 3-4 ran a relay race along the coast, which lasted from 9:30am to 3:30pm. Above, you see their triumphant and weary return to school. The first thing you're probably thinking is that Okinawans seem obsessed with relay marathons, which is true: they are obsessed with marathons in general. But that's not the point.

It is misleading that class number 4 is called the "sports" track. It makes it sound like all its members are extremely athletic. That's not the case. Rather, it's one of those tracks that kids get shuffled into if they don't have a special talent. There`s two IT tracks (1 and 2), and there are tracks for smarties like the international track (5) and we-want-to-go-to-college track (3). Then there are those for people who are all definitely not going to college, and have no idea what will become of them... these are 4, 6, 7, 8. And though the 4 tracks are cool kids at school, they are among those whose anxieties post-graduation run the highest.

This marathon was a がんばろう! ("ganbaroo!") race for the 3-4 before graduation. Ganbaru is a verb very important to Japanese culture. In this case it means, "let's give it our all! Try our best!" The marathon was a tool to pump up the kids` courage for entering the next stage of life; to give them faith in themselves that they can aim to do something difficult and accomplish it. The photo below shows the school awaiting their return. I, of course, found myself sniffling into a hanky... this kind of thing always hits a chord in me. The 1-4 and 2-4 tracks were excused from class to be a part of the return ceremony. In Japan they pay more attention to the relationship between elders and juniors than we do. The 3-4 sports course boys are the role models and seniors (senpai) of the 1-4 and 2-4 sports boys. So below you see one side of the walkway lined with 1-4, and the other side with 2-4, cheering their graduating senpai on.
After they returned, the seniors were asked to stand and give words of wisdom and advice to the youngsters, and the youngsters stood and gave words of encouragement to the elders. It never fails to amaze me how different Japan is in one respect from America: kids here have the capacity to be very serious and sincere, even in front of large groups of peers. They can go from goofy slackers and too-cool-for-school bad-asses to laying their hearts out on the table in a second. Below, one of my best buddies from 3-4 gives a little pose as he crosses the finish line.

Ganbatte, boys! Here comes the rest of life.

It's not Japan

When people ask me how I like living in Japan, I am always surprised. I don't really consider myself to be living in Japan because, well, I'm not. Okinawa is distinct culturally, historically, and distant geographically from mainland Japan. When I was practicing nationalities in class last week, I asked this one kid who hadn't been paying any attention, "are you Japanese?" He stared at me for a second and shook his head. I thought he hadn't understood the question. "JAPANESE?" I repeat. A head shake, and one word mumbled: "uchina." I'm Okinawan. Answered not in English, not in Japanese, but in Okinawan language. These kids are smarter than you think.

Okinawa was its own nation (the Ryukyu kingdom) until it was annexed forcibly by Japan due to its convenient geographical location and the fact that Japan was threatened by an independent, prosperous little nation that could be used as a stepping stone to their own islands by their Enemies. Ha! Sounds like someone you know? If you talk to Japanese people, they know ZIP about Okinawa. Well, I take that back. They know that it is a tropical island convenient for Japanese vacationers to reach without a passport. Hawaii.

Japan announced in 1872 that it was unilaterally abolishing the Ryukyu kingdom. Okinawan officials were replaced with mainland Japanese (sometimes through imprisonment of former Okinawan officials) and the Okinawan king was forcibly exiled to Tokyo. The Meiji gov't withheld economic reforms from Okinawa that vastly benefited the rest of Japan. Though taxes were proportionately much higher in Okinawa than in the other Japanese prefectures, Okinawans were not allowed to be represented in the national Diet until 1912. The Japanese undertook assimilation policy in Okinawa: they repressed Oki religion, spiritual healers, and language (at that point, Okinawans were all spoke Ryukyu languages).

During World War II, Okinawa was caught between the hammer and the anvil, as they say. The largest land battle of the Pacific (the Battle of Okinawa) was fought between Japanese and American troops on Okinawan soil. Did Okinawa have anything to do with the war? No. But they sure paid for it. One third of their civilian population was killed in this battle, and just about everything was razed to the ground. Even the landscape was changed forever. Were American troops responsible for all these deaths? Nope. Japanese soldiers threw civilians out of caves or other hiding places into the middle of battle in order to make room for soldiers. They killed crying babies out of fear that they would give away their hiding spots. They shot people for speaking in Okinawan languages, on the off-chance they might be American spies. Japanese soldiers set up 100s of brothels on the island, forced 100s of Okinawan women into prostitution.



After the war, Okinawa was occupied by the US for 27 years. For decades, American military committed crime after crime, rape after rape, murder after murder on Okinawa, and remained untouched by the law; safe behind their barbed wire and walls. I won't go into detail about the Battle of Okinawa or the occupation, but if you want to read about some gross stuff, read about what one imperial power or another has done to Okinawa for hundreds of years.

When they came, Americans picked the land they wanted and brought in their bulldozers. Families were driven out, houses were destroyed, ton upon ton of crushed coral was spread across the ground that had been family farms for centuries (and coral ruins arable land). Asphalt was put on top. Military bases were built. The Okinawan land-owners are paid "rent" every year for their land, but they are not given the choice of whether they want to lease it. When the time came for renewel of the land leases, many families refused to sign. Governor Ota (the best governor Okinawa ever had) refused to sign for them, standing firm for his people's rights. Going against their own constitution, mainland Japan broke the law, and allowed the military to remain on the land. In a famous case, one fellow and his family were allowed to enter a base under guard for 2 hours and eat a picnic lunch on their land. It was the first time most of them had seen it.

Now Okinawa "belongs" to Japan again. But nothing has changed. Time after time, the mainland breaks promises that have been made, sacrifices Okinawa's well-being for its own interests. Before '72, many Okinawans struggled for reversion to Japan, assuming that US bases and military personnel would be removed. Where they? No. They're all still here, over 30 years later. Okinawa is less than 1% of Japan's landmass, yet hosts most of the US military presence in Japan. Why? It's ok for them to be down here, in Okinawa. But talk about bringing them into your own backyard, and the Japanese citizens would be up in arms in an instant. Who pays the rent money to Okinawans for US bases? Japan does, not America. What is required by Japan of the Americans when they leave Okinawa? Not much. They don't have to return the land in the same state they found it in. They don't have to remove dangerous chemicals or clean it up at all. What will Okinawans get, if and when they finally win back what is their own? What was once miles of farming land will be more of a wasteland.

We can think of Okinawa as Japan's offering to the United States, post WWII. The sacrificial goat.

Okinawan is currently Japan's poorest prefecture. The unemployment rate here is double that of mainland Japan, and many jobs that do exist are service industry. There are more gambling parlors, tourist shops, and restaurants than anyone could ever know what to do with. It's coming time for graduation at Ginowan High, so these things are ever-present in my mind. In the last few months, seniors have become more subdued. They don't play as much, they look tired and serious. Seniors at my school know that childhood is about to be over, and next month, they will be forced into the world of adults. What awaits them there? My kids aren't high achievers. 80% of them already have part-time jobs, most are from poor families. A lot have trouble at home and act it out at school. In the main hallway, we've got this display:
It's a list of what the future holds for all graduating seniors. On each ribbon is printed the name of a student who has a plan, post-graduation. One line represents those who have been accepted to technical schools, one line those who have found employment, etc. To the far left, you can see a sign that reads "53.1%: 112/211". This is a rolling count of how many graduating seniors have found jobs or a place in a school. Every week, the teachers receive printouts in our mailboxes with pictures of students who were successful that week in finding a job. Every time a kid passes a test for a technical school, it's announced at morning meeting and we all clap and cheer. Because life isn't easy for these kids on this island.

This week is the seniors last week of classes. We're still at 53.1%. What will the remaining 50% of our seniors do? Probably, they will all continue on in their current jobs. They'll be bumped from part-time to full time at the gas station, the grocery store, the cellphone shop. This island could have a better employment rate, could move away from service-industry based jobs if Japan would agree to funnel more money into development and infrastructure. But they won't. Okinawa has presented several plans of economic development that they would like to consider as an alternative to the bases. For example, a free trade zone plan that would make Okinawa a middle man of imports from the rest of the world into Japan. This would create jobs, boost the standard of living, seems like a good plan... but mainland would never allow it. Reading about such a conflict makes you realize that Okinawa would be much better off as an independent nation.

Okinawa is a Japanese colony when you get down to it. Mainland takes, but it doesn't give back as far as I'm concerned. Japan is sucking as much as they can get out of this little island and its people. I wonder what Japan plans to do, once it's finished killing all the coral and paving the beaches with landing pads.

Running for Peace

Me and Chiye ready to protest

Saturday was the annual Okinawa Teacher`s Union anti-base pro-peace Marathon! Lets get it out of the way: this is where I found myself dashing past a solitary cherry tree. Ever since US military bases have been stationed on this tiny island, hundreds of teachers have come together (in teams of 20 from each school) to run an 18km relay-marathon around Kadena Air force Base each year.

Right: my buddies Matto and Shouta sensei gearing up

Yup, they want the bases to beat it. The fact that the base is 18km around its perimeter should give you an idea of how big Kadena is: plopped splat in the middle of the island, a vast span of undeveloped green fields in the heart of a sprawling city, surrounded by high fences and barbed wire. Signs line the fence in both English and Japanese: US military property. Warning, this perimeter is patrolled by guard dog teams. Or some such nonsense. I don`t live within sight distance of a base, so when confronted with one so close up, I wonder what the people who live here must feel. They walk these sidewalks along the barbed wire everyday. They hear the roar of JET engines soaring over their homes and schools, rattling the windows. Marines walk the streets among the Okinawans, Y-plate cars (US military personnel) are everywhere. Shops are labeled in English. What is it like to be Okinawan and live on this island, where 2 cultures have been forced to exist together, though barbed wire, skin color, and language keep them apart?

Below: running vests of one of the school teams.
For all Okinawans except the elderly, an unoccupied homeland is a dream they have never seen as reality, though they have heard stories from their parents or grandparents. If we count Japan's annexation of Okinawa as occupation (which I personally do), than there are no living Okinawans who can remember an independent Ryukyu nation. Okinawans are a peace-loving people, if there ever was one. This marathon is a form of non-violent protest again Okinawan occupation and US militarization.

I was flattered to be asked to run with Ginowan High`s relay team. I actually agreed to it by accident, but was flattered in after-thought. This one teacher whose name I don't know was talking to me in Japanese about marathons. Ive been running (that is, performing a feeble half hour jog) with a few teacher friends here who are training for the Okinawa marathon in February and I was positive that's what we were discussing. I'm nodding and looking engaged but really not understanding what he is saying, as usual. I realize suddenly that he had posed me a question. Uh... yes! I answer, with all the certainty I can bluster. And that's how I was assigned piece #8, distance 1km, of the Relay Marathon.

Above: a mother and daughter run together. The child`s vest reads something like, `as long as there are bases on Okinawa, our bright future will never come`

Well, come on, 1km. that's like .6 miles, I can jog that. Sweeeeet kinda marathon, I`m thinking. Oh no, Joy-su. My friend Shouko informs me. Dash-u desu yo. What? It`s a 1km DASH? You want me to DASH half a mile?! Yeeeeeeaaaaah they did.

So, on a bright and brisk morning last weekend, we all piled into the van at Ginowan High. Spirits are high, hearts are happy, and people seem to be looking forward to running. I, on the other hand, am tallying the scarce hours of sleep that I have gotten in the past 3 days on my 10 digits, rubbing my bleary eyes, and gulping caffeine like a mad woman on steroids. Though I had performed remarkably well at the practice marathon (we actually did an entire marathon in order to practice for the real one... so Japanese) on Monday, uncontrollable life events had deprived me of sleep and appetite that week, and my dashing performance was... less than spectacular on Saturday. Lucky for me no one really cared if we won, it was just about protesting. I began my dash feeling like things were going well. I passed the dude from team #18. Then about 10 guys passed me (I forgot to explain that I was running the kilometer reserved for 40-year-old men. Why was I placed here I will never know. That`s just how it goes in Japan). About 20 seconds into it I began to feel light headed. And soon thereafter this mantra was floating through my head:

I am Jack`s lungs, exploding inside him. I am Jack`s delusional state.

Mom, sorry you don't watch movies and cant get the quotes.

Right: 2 teachers from my school

Too bad for me that the last 300 meters of my lame little km were uphill. At this point I was moving at a stumbling fast-walk, sounded like I was having an asthma attack, and had Matto-sensei riding his motorcycle along side me, shouting a constant stream of encouragement in Jenglish. I literally stopped moving and tossed the baton to the next sensei at the finish line. And fell asleep 5 minutes later in the van. The moral of this story is 1. never let yourself get out of shape or you will die 2. don't answer yes when you don't understand the question. Last-o: try to sleep before a marathon.

Below you see our entire group including many who didn't run but who were there for moral support. Every one was informed of my near death, and by Monday morning every teacher was coming up to me in the hall and saying: good job joyce! are you ok?!?

The great thing about this marathon is that every year, the teachers who are retiring in March come and run. So it doubles as a farewell celebration for those guys, who have given like 40 years of their lives to teaching in Okinawa. Below you see the team tossing a Ginowan High retiree in the air with three cheers. Despite near death, it was a merry day indeed.

The Art of Eyebrows

6 months here now, and there are many things I've gotten used to. One of them is people's physical appearances. I'm usually shocked to see myself in the mirror and realize I`m not Asian. If I see any non-Asian walking around my neighborhood I am apt to tail them suspiciously for several blocks, trying to figure out what they are doing there. I myself get looked at cross-ways by many neighborhood folk. Sometimes small children just stop whatever they're doing and stare at me open-mouthed when I walk into my apartment building. A foreigner on the streets is one thing, but a foreigner in your own neighborhood throws kids for a loop. Good Evening, i say to them in Japanese. Stare stare stare no answer. Ah, except for the one little 3 year old girl who lives upstairs from me. The first time she saw me getting out of my car (she was on the third floor dangling her feet through the balcony rails) her face lit up with joy, and she began waving frantically and peeping, `Hello! hello! hello! hello!` Clearly someone is getting an early start on English lessons! Now every time i see her its like this:
Child: hello!
Joyce: Hello!!
Child: hello!!!
Joyce: Hello!!!!
...until I am out of sight or her parents have shoved her into the car and locked the doors. She`s my best friend in the neighborhood, and I don't even know her name.

You're wondering what this has to do with eyebrows. Nothing, I just got off track. As I was saying, I have grown accustomed to people's appearances here. So much so that I have utterly failed to mention Japanese eyebrows on this blog.

Similar to the habits of mayoraa, the information I am about to divulge to you may blow your mind. Though it will not turn your stomach.

Let's start with some background. Japanese people really don't like body hair. They find dark arm hair, for instance, quite unattractive, and sometimes shave their arms. It is popular for females here to shave their entire faces. The hair removal/dying/shaving aisle at the store is the size of Tajikistan. Eyebrow hair has not escaped the fashion frenzy or the product rush:

MINI EYEBROW RAZORS!
Product Features

* Mini razors from Japan, made especially for eyebrow grooming for men and women

* Each long-lasting high quality stainless steel blade is a half-inch long, making it easy to reach even the smallest areas. Blade guards protect tender skin.
* Eliminate painful tweezing forever
* Shape eyebrows with greater precision on top and bottom
* Comes in a package of 3, each with a different handle color - share, take them with you, or keep one color for eyebrows and another for hairline and neck area

99% of people here clip their eyebrow hair to one half or one fourth its natural length. I used to think that Japanese people's eyebrow hair just didn't grow much compared to ours, but no, there is clippage occurring. Many take it further and shave off the hair entirely! Or, more popularly, they leave it a short razored stubble. Lots of girls paint in thin little fake brows over the stubble.

One of my students sporting the Stubble Brow

One of my students sporting the No Brow

Then there are the guys that shape their brows. The shaping of brows into thin lines and delicate arches doesn't really cross gender lines in America, and this is why Japanese males put foreigners off their gender-balance upon first sight. And the fact that most of them style their longish hair and some of them wear eyeliner might add to the effect. Gender-shmender! It's the word in Japan. Dudes are just as into hair styling, fashion, and eyebrow shaving/plucking/bleaching/arching/shaping as females in this here country. It's just COOL. Take a look at a Japanese fashion magazine. Besides the female models, every male model will have Brow Power happening. How about some more real life documentation?

One of my students sporting the ultimate thin arches, as well as some eyebrow paintage (this kid is really cool)

This kid is a very popular bad-ass. He has chosen a tougher thickness, but still shows signs of some serious brow design and shaving. Ah, note the white hand towel wrapped around his head. Guys like to wear those here.
Now this kid moves in brainier/less cool circles than the previous two, but he gets big points for being on the soccer team. He's got the start-big-go-little...aaaarch! thang goin' on.

I had a Q+A session with one of my third year classes, and somehow eyebrow fashion came up. I told them that people don't shave their eyebrows in America, and that only girls had shaped stuff going on. Furthermore, Americans would go so far as to think that Japanese people were "weird" if they saw, say, the kid in the above picture's brow walking down the street. They all just stared at me agog. They asked again and again.... really? people don't shave their eyebrows off???? Honto ni????? They couldn't believe it, I mean these kids looked like they'd just found out they were adopted. Don't they watch American movies all the time? Aren't they obsessed with MTV? Did they never see that Brad Pitt and Puff Daddy don't sport the Mt. Fugi-Arch???

Yes, I shook them to the core that day, and some of them may never recover.

My good friend Yvonne-sensei has reported an intriguing brow pattern from her own school, which does not seem to be present at Ginowan High. A small clique of boys are plucking their brows into a short, straight line. She's still trying to figure out the social significance of it all. I myself am trying to determine the meaning of eyebrows altogether. While I do that, take a look at this short newspaper article:

Shaved eyebrows banned
By Kjeld Duits, Monday May 16, 2005

The Mainichi Shinbun reports today that four new junior high school students were banned from attending an opening day ceremony at a school in Kagoshima in April because they had shaved their eyebrows.

Officials from the Hishikari Junior High School said the four girls were excluded from the ceremony because “We wanted to show them how important it is to stick to the rules.”

The officials decided that shaved or short eyebrows were unacceptable.

“In a pre-enrollment meeting, I explained the school’s requirements regarding appearance and uniforms, but they did not abide by these instructions, so I decided that it would be difficult for the four to take part,” principal Toshinori Hoka was quoted in the article.

The girls were made to wait outside during the ceremony. They were allowed to take part in all other events that day to mark their entrance into junior high school.

Well, I hadn't realized it was controversial. Imagine them trying to pull that at my school. All the teachers would have to go home too. Who would be left?

Joy-su:
the Lone Gaijin Warrior!

お餅 (o-mochi)

What does Joyce rank almost as high on the Icky List as mouthfuls of mayonnaise? Mochi!!!! Mochi is a favorite traditional Japanese food. It's made from rice... just like everything else in this country. Mochi is described as a rice cake, but this description makes it sounds
1. hard in texture
2. rather pleasant (which fails to express mochi's true nature).
OK lets be fair, many, perhaps even most(?), foreigners DO find mochi to be a swell thing, but for a texture-sensitive palate such as my own (and I know my sister Sandi will heartily agree with me on the texture business) mochi is grossy. How can I help convey the texture of mochi to those of you who have yet to feel its charms? Some mochi is harder than other mochi, but generally speaking it is very soft. Perhaps the closest sensation I can compare the chewing of mochi to is chewing a big mouthful of the silky smooth wrinkly old sags of skin hanging from your grandmothers underarm.

Mochi can be presented beautifully (these pics are lifted from the internet, btw):
...and mochi can have its true nature disguised through the artful use of shape and flavor, such as in this gift box below:

Top row, from left: Nantu mochi (filled with an, dipped in soy-bean flour), sweet-potato mochi, traditional white mochi, yaki manju (baked) and tsumami mochi (green, filled with an). Row 2: Momo (peach) mochi, furusato manju (baked with sweet-potato filling), chi chi mochi (soft, milk-flavored), plum flower (red for good luck, with red azuki-bean filling) and sweet-potato mochi.

But Japanese people like to eat mochi no matter how it comes, kind of like the Whos down in Whoville. Mochi doesn't need presents! Or ribbons! Or wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings! Right. Mochi is happily devoured in the simple form of sticky rice mash rolled in soy bean powder. Absolutely no taste at all. Just grandma's jiggle, squishing between your molars. Oozing back and forth across your tongue. Clinging with sickly joy to the roof of your mouth as you desperately try to swallow the cloying mass.

Well, a few weeks ago we had a teacher`s New Years party. Mochitsuki is the name of the traditional mochi-pounding ceremony in Japan, whereby mochi is made. Except nowadays it's made by machines in large factories. But traditionally it was done in the way detailed below. This is a common activity at the New Year. For our Mochitsuki party, we rented a ginormous mochi-making mush kit! The photos below are all mine from mochi-making, but the 3 steps are not mine, I lifted them from the internet:

step 1. Polished glutinous rice is soaked overnight and cooked.

step 2. The wet rice is pounded with wooden mallets (kine) in a traditional mortar (usu). Two people will alternate the work, one pounding and the other turning and wetting the mochi. They must keep a steady rhythm or they may accidentally injure one another with the heavy kine. Below: me pounding mochi! That's the principle behind me!

step 3. The sticky mass is then formed into various shapes (usually a sphere or cube).
Well that was simple enough! Above are the hands of my teachers, grabbing globs of mochi, rolling it in simple soy bean powder, and then plopping it on plates. As you can see, homemade mochi is not as beautiful as mochi bought in the store. The dark red mash to the far left is sweetened adzuki bean paste, which is probably the top component to be found in a variety of Japanese sweets. We weren't nimble-fingered enough to encase the beans inside the mochi balls, but had no trouble getting them both in our mouths at the same time.

Lets have some more interesting mochi trivia from Wiki:

In Japanese folk tradition, rabbits living on the Moon produce mochi in the traditional method with mallets and mortars. (This legend identifies the markings of the moon as a rabbit pounding mochi).

After each new year, it is reported in the Japanese media how many people die from choking on mochi. The victims are usually elderly. Because it is so sticky it is difficult to dislodge via the Heimlich maneuver...some lifesaving experts say that a vacuum cleaner is actually efficient for [removing] stuck mochi.


Above, my supervisor Junko-sensei and her twin daughters pound away. Mochi making equals fun for the whole family!!!!