To a different drum

Like many of my experiences in Japan thus far, the coolest thing that has happened yet came as a surprise. The last night of the district conference was one big feeding frenzy, where platters of food that were set out were snatched up within about ten minutes. Our team, thinking that more rounds of food would surely come, sat back and relaxed. It always does. Wait for the fruit, right? That's our motto.

That never happened. But what did was even better. A drumline of girls in wildly bright outfits danced into the room. They were followed by dancers in pink. Then a flautist, then a singer. They were all so beautiful. Erin and I were tempted to join in.





The women here in general are beautiful. I was walking out of the hall when I saw the waitresses line up to bow as the Rotarians filed out of the hall. They were thrilled when I asked if they would take a picture with me. One of them whispered, "You're so tall." Yes, I am going to hold onto that one. It's the first, and likely the last, I will ever hear those words.


Lesson learned: Not only are Japanese women graceful, they know just what to say, even if they don't speak English.

Breaking down the barriers

We spent most of our time in Kesennuma exploring the Rikuchu Coast National Park. It's pretty impressive. I'll let the photos speak for themselves. The great thing about being outdoors is that it takes no translation, no special culturual understanding. There are no faux pas.







I'm learning that when we have homestays, the first night is the hardest. It's sometimes hard to judge where they want to you be and how happy they are that you're there. I find that I sort of freeze up in any of the language that I have learned. Then, the second night we all seem to open up. Dinner became a mix of words and phrases from both languages, as we tried to get to know each other with limited means.

My first impression of our host mother was that she was hosting us out of obligation, but by the morning of our departure, she told us that we was sad we were leaving and wished we were staying four days instead of two.


Lesson learned: Just got to break down that first wall.

Mistakes that make you want to throw up

Every once and awhile, my group has these sinking ephiphanies about some language or cultural faux pas we may have made previously. Sometimes it comes days later. Some are worse than others.

Aimee was struggling to remember the word for husband in Japanese, which is otto, so we had one of our classic memory aid brainstorming sessions. I suggested that it's pronounced like auto, as in automobile, with a slight break between the two ts. Compared to some of the tricks we've concocted, this one is pretty lame. But it worked. And unbeknownst to us at the time, it may have saved Aimee from repeating the unfortunate mistake she's been making, including in the presentations we make to Rotary Clubs.

I was looking for something in my dictionary today, when my eyes glazed over the word for vomit.

You guessed it, it's oto (awe-to), which coincidentially is what Aimee has been calling her husband thus far.

Lesson learned: I'm hoping, for the sake of Aimee's marriage, the two words aren't as interchangable in her life as she has been making them in her speech.

Cross cultural meals

We got a little taste of home from 5,000 miles away last night. Our host father, Hiroshi, had invited over four people part of the JET program, which brings in English speakers to teach in Japanese schools. There were two from the U.S., (Michael and Aaron) one from Ireland (Mark), and a woman who is both from the U.S. and Argentina (Michelle).

It was fun to hang out and compare notes. That and it was nice to speak a little "fast English." We've noticed that we are starting to speak English slower and with more pronunciation to each other since we are required to do so with many of the Japanese.

We had a mock rotary meeting before digging into a meal of sushi, chips and salsa, McDonald's and KFC. Our hosts must have driven a couple hours round trip to get us some American food. I felt a little bad. It was really sweet, but we are determined have a complete Japanese experience, strangely textured seafood and all. I have to admit, despite the fact that I rarely eat fast food, a drum stick from Kentucky Fried Chicken tasted comfortingly familiar.

Lesson learned: Just like eating salad at breakfast, it is possible, but strange, to eat McDonnell's with sushi.

Eastern hospitality

My head is pounding from trying to absorb the language, culture and watching my surroundings change as soon as I adapt to them. It's a good feeling though, and I can't believe how much I'm learning. I'm realizing I really didn't know anything about Japanese culture before I came.

Probably the thing that has most struck me is the generosity and selflessness of the people here. You can trust everyone. Maybe it is just the setting I'm in, since Rotary has a strong philosophy of service, but everyone has bent over backwards to make us comfortable and happy. It's a little overwhelming. We actually have to be careful not to bring up something we liked, because the next day they will show up with it and give it to us. Beth's host mom had a painting of a Japanese character on her wall that meant dream. Beth complimented her on it, and later Beth found it tied in a bag tied to her suitcase.

The Group Study Exchange Coordinator, Takashi, also seems to just take care of everything before we even know what's happening.

Lesson learned: I better not compliment someone's car.

Nihongo

Learning Japanese has become a game to our group. There are certain words we deem as "our favorite," each time we learn new fun one to say. Right now, mine is "Di jobu desu," which means "It's okay." Erin and I try to find every opportunity to say it, and when we do, we almost sing it.

On our road trip from Miyako back to Morioka, Erin would pick a word from the dictionary, and we would all guess what it means. We were never even close.

It's frustrating sometimes though. I feel like I learn a new phrase only to have another one evaporate from my mind.

I was told that everyone here speaks English, and I'm finding that that's not necessarily true. Most of them know snippets of the language, but have a hard time forming sentences. They have a hard time understanding us when we talk, even if we speak slowly. It adds an element of challenge to communication. But even this population speaks better English than we do Japanese, which is a sad commentary on Americans.

Lesson learned: Nihongo amari hanase imasen. (I don't speak much Japanese).

So much for "great"

I've learned that even thinking the thought "Wow, everything today is just falling into place" is dangerous. It's like an instant jinx. Case in point: today.

For my story today, I had to call superintendents at 15 school districts, plus some teachers and board members. Usually, a story like this takes about three days, by the time everyone calls me back.

Today, magically (I still don't know how it happened), I got ahold of just about everyone before lunch. I wrapped up the story by about 3:30 p.m. This was really good news, because I really wanted to get to the gym for this step dance class that is running only this month — one that is my all-time favorite.

As I walked out of the office at 4:15 p.m., I was already celebrating my "great" day.

But I ran into an acquaintance at the gym as I was getting changed. We ended up talking for awhile, so I missed the class. That wasn't so bad because what we were talking about was worth it. But I only got in a 20-minute work out before I had to run to my online virtual classroom appointment.

This is for the Japanese learning program I'm taking to prepare for the professional exchange I'm going on in a couple weeks to Japan. I already missed the first class because no one at the program told me I couldn't participate using a Mac. I had to set it up on a PC at work. That was a whole drama filled with technical difficulties and about a half dozen phone calls. By the time I got on, I found out the class was mistakenly cancelled.

My exchange team and I decided to bump up a conference call we had planned.

That worked, but by the time I got off the phone it was 8:45 p.m., and I was feeling a little worn out from running to one thing to another. And I still had four messages on my cell phone's voicemail. And all I had for dinner was a peanut butter sandwich in the car on the way to my class and a piece of cake left over from cake day at work.

It's all good, I thought, "Grey's Anatomy" is on.

Well, it's a rerun.

Lesson learned: So much for optimism.