Friday, 12 July 2013

Inside a Japanese Classroom

As you might know, I'm a teacher in Australia too.  So I came to Japan thinking I'd be somewhat familiar with the layout of things.  Not only was I in for a shock as to how the system would work differently in Japan, I was also surprised by the structure of school in my adopted home. Classrooms in Japan are very different beasts to classrooms in Australia - I'd like to talk about the major differences here:

1) Chalkboards!  Every classroom in Japan has a chalkboard!  And that's not just because some school buildings are quite old.  Oh no.  My school for example was recently renovated (making it rather more earthquake-proof) and instead of whiteboards, all new blackboards were installed into each classroom.  Writing on the board using chalk took some getting used to and I often found myself covered in dust at the end of each lesson (usually, comically, all over my butt from where I had inadvertently wiped my hands or leaned on the board while teaching).  It was also quite the novelty to see students cleaning the board and then banging the dusters together outside their classrooms on the balcony!

2) Wooden desks and chairs.  These old-school items of furniture went out of fashion in Australian classrooms years ago, but in Japan every student has their own wooden desk (with metal shelving tray underneath) and wooden chair.  Most of the desk and chair legs are fitted with cut tennis balls on the bottom, enabling the furniture to be slid around the room quietly and with ease.  Students would be assigned a desk at the beginning of their junior high schooling and keep it for the remainder of their years at the school.  Each desk would therefore be complete with sticky labels featuring their unique student number and name in kanji.  Each desk also had multiple hooks on the side for hanging school bags, book bags and shoe bags!

3) Technology.  Once my school was renovated, I was surprised to see a large flatscreen TV affixed to hang permanently from the ceiling of each classroom - mostly because in my experience, technology is barely used in the Japanese classroom.  On the few occasions that I wanted to show a PowerPoint slide show or a short video clip, it had been a tangle of collecting the right cords and spending some time with multiple teachers trying to get the tech set up prior to class.  I hate to imagine just how few times those tech-toys get used each year!  On the bright side though, Japanese students are well enough behaved for teachers to be able to leave the technology (as well as remote controls etc) in the classrooms without fear of it being destroyed (or having batteries go missing!).

4) No aircon, no heaters.  Yes, that's right, in the Japanese classroom there is no aircon and there are no heaters.  But wait, doesn't it snow during Japanese winters?  Yes, yes it does.  At which point the windows are opened in an attempt to raise the ambient temperature of the room with the slightly-warmer-outside-than-inside breeze.  And, um, aren't summer temperatures in excess of 35 degrees Celsius with 70-90% humidity?  Ahh, yep.  During which time the windows are once again thrown open in hopes of attracting a breeze, the students roll up their long-sleeves (!) and the one overhead fan is turned on.

5) Floorboards.  No classroom at my schools (a JHS and two elementary schools) had carpet - all of them rocked floorboards.  I guess this is to keep down building and maintenance costs, but also because students are the ones responsible for cleaning the classroom, it makes sense to give them something relatively easy to keep clean.  And by clean the classroom I mean using brooms to sweep up dust and wet rags to mop the floors afterwards.

6) Students don't move, teachers move.  In Japanese junior high schools each class is given their own classroom and in it they stay (unless doing home economics or sport classes).  This means that teachers are responsible for shuffling around the school for each lesson while the students stay where they are all day.  In between classes (there is usually a 10-minute window between lessons) students are free to hang out in their own classroom, wander the halls, pop in to see their teachers in the staff room or go visit their friends classrooms.  But, by the end of the bell chiming for the next class to begin (a rather long and drawn out Big Ben chime) they must be back in their own classrooms, seated and ready to start with the new lesson.



This is what an empty classroom in Japan looks like (well, at my newly renovated school at least) - wooden floorboards, brand new blackboards and flatscreen TVs hanging from the ceiling.



The back of the classroom with pigeon-holes for the students to put their extra bags and books into.



Just outside those windows/sliding doors you can see the balcony.  Each classroom has one of these (unthinkably unsafe for an Aussie classroom!).


Tuesday, 9 July 2013

River Party 2013

Heading down to the Anabuki River for an almighty par-tay was something that I had done last summer as well, but in the spirit of fun (and to celebrate American Independence Day) some friends and I headed down there again this year (after zorbing) to swim, BBQ and drink on the banks of the river and by our very own bonfire.

Fellow JET Robin was to thank for the huge bonfire and indeed most of the organisation of the event.  So on a Saturday afternoon in early July a group of us gathered at the river and frolicked in the cool, rapidly flowing waters.  Now, July is supposed to be summer and it was in fact quite hot.  But alas, it did also rain a few times and at one point a rolling thunderstorm did pass us directly overhead.  Not that we let that put a dampener on the evening - the bonfire still took off (my favourite part was throwing 2 years worth of useless documents I'd scavenged from home onto the flames!) and we were still able to roast our chicken in the embers.  We drank, we listened to music, we set off (completely legal) fireworks and we chatted long into the night, eventually bunking down in tents for some well-earned zzz's.

Waking up in the tent was predictably stifling and so before heading home and calling it a weekend, we packed up and opted for one last dip in the crystal-clear waters of the beautiful Anabuki River.  Bliss.


Zorbing!

Avid readers of my blog might remember that I've been zorbing before, on an overcast day during my first autumn in fact, but in an effort to round things out before I depart Tokushima I decided to hit the slope again with some friends.  Despite heading out west in summer this time, the weather for this second trip was just as dodgy and as we filled out our insurance forms the rain began to fall again.  Not to be deterred though, we simply changed into our wet-weather gear, opted for the water-zorb and headed upstairs to get started.

For those of you who didn't catch my original zorbing post or unlucky enough to not have tried zorbing for yourself, in Japan it goes a little something like this:

1) Drive about an hour west of Awa (that's about 2 hours west of Tokushima City) into the mountainous region of Ikeda.

2) Fill out your health and insurance forms (you can't zorb while pregnant or with back/neck problems etc) and choose the wet or dry options.  We chose wet, which entails climbing into a giant zorb ball that has about 5 litres of water in the bottom of it and slip-sliding your way down to the bottom, instead of being dry-harnessed in.

3) Pay your 700yen (or $7 AUD) and go get changed into bathers.

4) Head up the hill in a little motorised car and get ready for the ride of your life.

5) Once you've reached the bottom of the hill, wet and sloshed around inside your zorb ball, birth yourself out of the little entrance hole and smile at the camera!


Looking up the hill!



The ladies, getting ready to zorb.
Photo courtesy of Liz J.



The catchment area.



Simon, shortly after being birthed out of the zorb-ball...



And feeling the rush!



The zorbing crew (from L-R): Liz, me, Todd, Danielle, Simon, Natasha, Maria and Sergio.
Photo courtesy of Liz J.


Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Black Tie Ball 2013

After the success of last year's Black Tie Ball, I was thrilled to find out that it would happen again this year!  New AJET member and fellow 2-year-JET, Danielle, chose to organise the party this year - much to my relief - and on Friday 28 June about 40 of us gathered in our finery at the Hotel Clement for a sayonara-esque shindig.  Like last year, the atmosphere was classy and refined, the food was delectable and the outfits were sublime!  Everyone looked amazing and the standard remained high despite the 2-hour nomihodai accompanying our seven-course meals.  I didn't take my Nikon along to this event, choosing instead to snap a few iphone pics along the way (unfortunately forgetting to take pics of most of my food courses!), but it was definitely a night to remember (post-Black Tie ball-gown-gaming at a bar included)!



3/4 of the Awa City ALTs - Liz, Sergio and myself.
Picture courtesy of Natasha H.



Me and Ingrid looking a bit like barbie dolls!
Picture courtesy of Ingrid H.



Tucking into Natasha's entree!
Picture courtesy of Natasha H.



Obligatory group photo.
Picture courtesy of Natasha H.



Natasha and I in the Hotel Clement lobby.



Viet and I, keeping it classy...



At least until we got to Liberty Bar and smashed out a few games of Mario Kart!
Picture courtesy of Liz J.



Monday, 1 July 2013

Rounding Out & Finishing Up - almost!

As the end of my JET contract draws near, the past few months have unfortunately become a whirlwind of stresses for me.

 I started this year with a countdown calendar to home in mind, but recently time has seemed to be moving at warp speed and it's almost time to go home!  Though simple enough to begin the process of packing up while you're still crossing off the months, now that 'departure' is down to a matter of weeks the intensity of the organisation required has more than tripled.

Back in February, all that was really required of me to get this "leaving JET" ball rolling was to sign up for and attend the Returnee JETs Conference in Yokohama and "start thinking about things".  Fast forward to today and it's a mess of physically packing up my home, trying to sell my belongings, throwing away trash, making plans for life back in Australia, arranging cut off dates for phone/internet/insurance, setting a date to return my leased car, acquiring police clearances and other necessary paperwork, deciding on and booking flights home, spending time achieving the last of my Japan goals, enjoying multiple "last times" with friends, filling out forms for tax/pension/banking/changing address, preparing final classes, talking with my successor and answering their questions about life in Japan, and emailing my supervisor about every decision/requirement at every twist and turn!

And all of this comes on top of normal scheduled classes and daily/weekly routines.  It's no real surprise then that I'm feeling stressed at the moment and that moving home is turning out to be a helluva lot harder than moving here ever was!

Essentially having "one foot out the door" is both sad and exhilarating.  It's frustrating and tiring to be tending to two worlds at once.  It lends you a sense of feeling carefree while at the same time reminding you that there's a tonne to be done before that's actually the case.

As excited as I am to be returning home to teach in an Australian setting again, my final classes here are starting to roll around with greater frequency.  The students seem sad that I'm leaving and a few well-timed tears-from-the-crowd has often taken me off guard and forced me to put on a brave classroom front too.  To think that this aspect of things will only get worse before it gets better is depressing.  Last week I taught some final classes at one of my elementary schools.  This week I will teach some of my final classes at the other elementary school.  Next week I will teach final classes at my junior high school.  And the week after that will be my last eikaiwa class.  Throw in a few "sayonara parties" with fellow JETs, my schools, my eikaiwa ladies, my Board of Education and lastly a random selection of friends and you've got one mega tear-fest on your hands.

People keep telling me, "but look on the bright-side, you get to go home soon!"  And it's true!  Yes, I do and I truly rejoice in the fact.  It's just that trying to organise, arrange and set-up life in Australia while I'm still 6000km away is a bit of an arduous task.  It's challenging to solidify plans when you're so far away.  It's hard to get paperwork completed when you're not even in the country.  It's awkward to have to discuss important career or lifestyle choices via email because you've no other way to effectively get it done.  And it's scary to be leaving a full-time salaried job for the financial uncertainty of life back at home, in the middle of the third term, in the middle of winter!

And some days I just wish time would stand still for a while and allow me to catch up on my favourite TV shows or have a nap without wasting a few precious packing hours or happy fun times with friends.  I wish my clothes and shoes would sort and pack and send themselves.  I wish the paperwork I need to fill out before I go would just magically appear on my desk and complete itself in legible block letters in black or blue pen while I take a breather instead.  I wish the items in my drawers and on my bookshelves would decide what needs to be trashed and what needs to be tidied.  That my dishes would wash themselves, that the bathroom would become grime-free overnight, that the world would indeed quit spinning while it waits for me to get my shit sorted out.  Too much to ask?

Sigh.

Zzzzzzz.

Sunday, 30 June 2013

Temple Trek Twenty-Thirteen

Recently I have been gung-ho about visiting the remaining Shikoku 88 temples on my list to acquire the calligraphy and complete my stampbook collection.  Practically every weekend for the past month or so has seen me get behind the wheel of my tiny kei car, armed with a pile of loose change and google maps at the ready.  Can't say I've enjoyed all of the driving (I much prefer being a passenger!) but knocking about 30 temples from the list has been invigorating.  Currently, I've a mere 7 temples to go - three in Tokushima and the final four stretch in Kagawa prefecture - and I can barely wait for a free weekend so I can cross them off.  Anyway, here are some pictures from this last leg of the tour, my "temple trek 2013".













Sunday, 23 June 2013

Waterfalling

For a self-confessed city girl like me, living in the inaka (countryside) can have its drawbacks.  It's quiet, too quiet most times and there are bugs, lots of bugs.  But occasionally it proves to have its upsides.  Upsides like crazy local generosity and amazing natural scenery.  On one fine Saturday, some friends and I decided to make the most of nature and head out for a spot of waterfall swimming.

The sun was shining but the temperatures in the shade were a little cooler than you'd want them to be.  This didn't stop us from donning our cossies, packing our cameras, stopping at a supermarket for picnic supplies and setting off on a 45-minute drive into the mountains in search of the stunning rural wilderness.

Our trek took us to Kamikatsu, a town famous for its ageing population and incredible wealth generated by leaf farming.  Yes, you read correctly, leaf farming.  Apparently, decorative leaves are a big business in Japan and the old ladies in this area sure know how to milk the trees for all they're worth.  They pick them and pack them off to places like Kyoto, where prized Kamikatsu leaves are used to decorate the plates of many an expensive meal.  As an aside, Kamikatsu is also home to a fairly small but pretty incredible private little waterfall and it's here that we set-up camp for the day to frolic in the surprisingly freezing waters.  Check out the pictures below!


Walking down the garden path, heading to the hidden little waterfall...





John and Natasha, picnicking on the rocks by the waterfall.





This is me standing on rocks behind the waterfall.
Photo courtesy of Greg P C.



Crossing a tiny, leaf-strewn bridge on the way out of the waterfall cove.