Revelation Wednesday

Today’s post was going to be a profile of (Ii Junior High School), but that all changed around 3:20 this afternoon. 

At this school, the fuku-kocho sensei has been extremely hospitable. He takes time every day to come to my desk and talk to me, or he asks me how to explain a math equation in English (part of his job is teaching algebra) and a couple times, he gave me a school camera and asked me to photograph student council meetings and events. F.K. Sensei’s English is very good, on par with the English teachers, but he is certainly more eager than even them to converse in English. Recently, he and his wife took a trip to Boston to see a former teacher get married. Up until the trip, he was anxious about being able to speak in English when they arrived in America, so every day, he came to me to practice. 

He returned last week, jet-lagged, but excited to talk to me about the trip and show some photographs. But he was also concerned, and let me tell you why.

He wasn’t concerned just because “Americans speak English so fast” but because he had had a taste of what it is to be on the outside looking in on a foreign culture. He was concerned for me. 

At 3:20 this afternoon, he came to my desk and asked his typical “You have time to talk to me?”

When you come to a foreign country where they speak another language, there’s a certain degree of uncertainty that you live with. When you come to an insular country like Japan, take that certain degree and multiply it be a gazillion. Japanese culture is very devoted to itself, and foreigners are superficially accepted but not entirely welcomed. It’s called the threshold. Like Cinderella, dressed in her bippity-boppitied rent-a-gown, you’re gate-crashing on their ball, subject to whispers and polite/confused smiles and nods. But all the same, there’s something unsettling about your presence. And that unsettling atmosphere is contagious.

“Even the English teachers here, there are three, their English is good, but they are unsure what to say to you,” F.K. tells me. “The other teachers, they can speak some words or phrases, but…eehh, their English grammar is not so good. They are nervous to speak.”

I quickly reassured him, “No, no! It’s okay! I want to speak to them too, but my Japanese grammar is…” ‘For the shit’ doesn’t really translate well into Japanese, so I settled for the shaky hands “mehhh” gestures instead.

During his stay in America, he and his wife toured Boston and ate lunch and dinner at several restaurants. Everywhere they went, people spoke English. Not only English, but let’s just imagine two Japanese tourists listening to thick Boston accents and trying to decipher what the heck is going on. F.K.’s English is very good, but he told me that he was overwhelmed by listening to so many people speaking his second language.

“My body is healthy, my ears and my mouth are healthy, but I could not use my mouth or my ears.”

This really stuck with me: his feelings of frustrations and helplessness…and that he took those feelings and was empathizing with my position. He was there for about a week. I’ve been here for three months.

At this point, the conversation changed. 

“Sometimes, you seem a little shy to the teachers and so they are not sure how to talk to you.”

Remember what I said about that uncertainty, that degree of apprehension being contagious? It goes both ways. I realize that around the teacher’s room, I am quiet and keep to myself, but I was partly doing so to be modest and stay out of their way. They’re the real teachers with real schedules, I know I’m just a guest. But I didn’t realize my behavior was actually so off-putting!  I have picked up phrases and words and mannerisms, certainly, and I do what I can to apply them in class or the hallways with students. Today, I was supervising boys and girls sweeping the front hallway when they found some spiders hanging in the corner of the ceiling. They used their brooms and brought them to the ground, but didn’t kill them. Instead, they laughed and chased the spiders around the floor with their brooms. Finally, I was able to tell them 

“O.K., O.K, soto, onegaishimasu: soto!” Outside, please, outside!

So I told him that I am usually pretty genki, but admitted I am more so with the students. I talk to them in English because, of course, I’m their English teacher. But I cited the spider incident and also added that I practice my Japanese with the students when I get the chance, asking about the weather, likes and dislikes and my old standby: “Nihongo de?” In Japanese?

At that point, as if some glorious situation-fairy waved her magic wand, two second year girls popped in, waved frantically at me and squealed “Marta sensei! Hellooo!”

This week, F.K. has been helping me with my Japanese by giving me little crash courses in grammar when he walks by my desk. Yesterday, he asked me in Japanese “What are you doing?” and made me answer in Japanese. I was finally able to say “Watashi wa san nen ni ‘puzzle’ wo saseru junbyou shite imasu.” I am preparing a puzzle for third grade. Since then, I was able to hash together a few more sentences like “Watashi wa Nihongo wo benkyou shite imasu.” I am studying Japanese.

It was a touching conversation and a real eye-opener for me. I realized I’m sending out a negative impression of myself that I never meant to put across so I seriously need to amp up my Japanese! 

“I think that you are a good student for studying Japanese. I think in, oh, three months, you will be so fluent.”

Game on, Fuku-Kocho Sensei. Game freaking on! GANBARIMASU!