The weather outside is ... nice. Prettty nice.

If I could ignore schedule conflicts airfare spikes and general financial concerns, I would not be leaving Japan this month. Spring is on the way. Today is offering some foreshadowing. We are 50 degrees with little wind, which means it actually feels like 50 degrees. This is new.

And then summer, which I've mentioned a few times maybe, is so uncomfortable that it's hardly worth trying to describe with words. It would require kidnapping and some airplane tickets.

Anyway. My point is that as I was outside just now, cycling from work to the department store and then back home, I was comfortable.

We still have some more days of severe cold and nasty winds (tomorrow included) but spring is out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered. Then, when it's ready, and the cherry trees give the go ahead, it happens.

---

Tomorrow, as it happens, is Yamasho's graduation. This is a very formal affair. No silly student speeches. No serious student speeches, either. No musical performances. No gowns. No caps.

To be fair, there was a farewell ceremony a few weeks ago that included students performances. So they keep the fun separate.

Tomorrow's affair will be serious. I've been told to dress formally, meaning a black suit, white shirt, and here's the wild card, a white tie. Which I had to go buy today.

We ran through the ceremony in a practice today. There were a few rows of chairs for parents off to the side. The graduating students will file in and sit with their homeroom classes in the front, with the rest of the students sitting by class behind them. All are in their regular uniforms. Today's practice was abbreviated, but from what I can tell there will be a lot of standing and bowing, followed by sitting down, standing up again later, and bowing some more. I'm sure when the real thing happens there will be more time between stand-and-bow routines.

There is one element that reminds me home: They play Pomp and Circumstance.

Next Stop: America-Town

After seven months away from Freedomsville, my return is imminent. For 12 days in Oregon, I will eat pizza without corn on there, enjoy sandwiches with wheat bread, sample microbrews that don't cost six dollars a pint, avoid Japanese restaurants and sushi, read the Oregonian in print, and who knows what other things I haven't realized I've been missing.

Of course, the trip will be framed around visiting family, spread across Oregon, in Portland, Pendleton and Corvallis.

I will arrive in Portland next Friday, March 7, in the early afternoon, departing again for Japan on March 18. When I write that it seems like such a short trip, but it was quite a thing to squeeze it in amid a host of things happening here at what has become "home."

I am leaving immediately after my duties end for the final exam period of the third and final term of the school year. I will get back just in time to go along with the students and teachers to watch the baseball club participate in a national tournament, much like they did in the summer.

The baseball tournament, and one other major event, is what kept me from traveling during the proper spring break, though that would only have been about 12 or 13 days anyway.

The other option would be putting it all of until summer -- but summer would be more expensive to fly, I think, so I wanted to push for a spring trip.

Also, I want to do a little shopping for clothing, which isn't impossible here but is certainly inconvenient when it comes to sizes and styles.

But enough about shopping ... I nearly got a headache just thinking about it.

The key here is that in a week I will land in the U.S. -- in San Francisco, where I will change planes -- and enjoy what I have left behind. Exciting, much.

I am at a Denny's. Coffee refills? Free. Nagoya. All night. Little sleep. Total coverage.

We're gonna be OK, folks

Announcer: Welcome to the Campaign 2008 Variety Hour! Featuring that latest polling data, the Superdelegate Orchestra, and the comedy stylings of Dennis Kucinich. Now, here's your host, Wolf Blitzer!

Wolf Blitzer: Welcome, everyone, we're going to start today by talking with Barack Obama, the newly-minted front-runner in the Democratic race for The Whi--- wait .. excuse me sir ...

(A struggle is apparently going on off camera, back stage. A roughed up Bill Clinton emerges, smiling. He grabs the microphone from Blitzer.)

Bill Clinton: Well, folks, I just gotta say, I really appreciate being invited on the show today. Now, let me start with a tune I've always loved ... Hillary, come on out here!

(Hillary enters)

Bill Clinton (singing):

Who can turn the world on with her smile?
Who can take a dead campaign, and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile?
Well it's you Hill, and you should know it
With each debate and every little tear you show it
Hope is all around -- no wait that's not it
You can win the race why don't you take it
You're gonna make it after all!
Bill and Hillary: We're gonna make it after all!

(To be continued)

Media scandal!!! And something about John McCain

The New York Times printed a story this week suggesting that John McCain may have had a romantic relationship with a lobbyist in the late '90s, basing the story on some anonymous sources and one on-the-record former McCain aide.

The New Republic, meanwhile, aims to tell the story behind the story. TNR's piece is also highly critical of the Times: "... The new information it reveals focuses on the private matters of the candidate, and relies entirely on the anecdotal evidence of McCain's former staffers to justify the peice--both personal and anecdotal elements ususual in the Gray Lady."

(Update: Slate's Jack Shafer defends the Times.)

Says TNR, the four reporters assigned to the story believed it was solid, but higher ups in New York disagreed. Eventually, it was published. TNR seems to think it was published when it was to beat TNR's background piece. The Times claims it was published when it was "ready."

It seems we are not getting the entire story -- neither the one about McCain and the lobbyist nor the one about the story itself.

The McCain camp, meanwhile, is trying to make the story about the Times itself, joining the usual conservative view that the paper is a liberal attack unit. This particular liberal attack unit, it should be noted, endorsed McCain. For president. And while the paper may not be rock solid in this case, the story does raise legitimate questions that go beyond the possible romance.

On a more personal note, when I spend my mornings reading juicy media stories like this, I realize that I need to eventually get back into journalism.

Run, sensei, run!

Another successful Beer Wednesday at the brewery last night. I wasn't hung over so much in the traditional sense but I felt and still feel run down. I think the twice a month thing may be a little much for what amounts to competitive beer drinking. You are competing against yourself of course, striving to drink all 10 of the day's offerings.

We started at 6, ended a few hours later. Sleep comes easy, naturally.

Our marathon beer-drinking is pretty impressive, but earlier Wednesday, the Yamasho kids ran a "marathon" of sorts ... not a real marathon by distance but a lengthy run. It's a big school event. Everyone has to join. The girls ran about 7 kilos while the boys hit 10. The longest I was ever forced to run in school was a mile. We all hated "running the mile," didn't we? I wasn't fond of it. But we should be thankful we weren't Yamasho students.

The weather was quite nice, as it is today. Mostly sunny with temperatures near above 50. We still have some coldness ahead before spring turns on for real.

For the boys, the best times were around 30 minutes, I believe, while the slowest of the bunch topped an hour. Best times for the girls were near 2o minutes.

A few people asked me why I didn't join ... I usually dismissed such comments with "maybe next year."

But really if anyone actually feels I should join, they should consider telling me about the event earlier than the week of. Maybe, say, a couple months out, when the kids start training, so I too could train a bit and be a good ALT and join in the fun.

Really though, among the staff, only the principal participated. But a lot of the students seem to think I'm more on their level than being seen as a teacher. Oddly, if they see my cellphone out in the school they'll tell me that "we're not allowed to use a cellphone," with the we seeming to include ALT Dan. In my book, such a rule applies to students. Maybe it does apply to teachers ... maybe we're expected to use cell phones only in the teachers' room ... but that's just silly.

I decline to participate in such silliness.

Chocolate Day

Mom e-mailed asking if they have Valentine's Day over in Japan. Below is my response:

In short, yes, they do have Valentine's Day here, but it is its own animal.

For some reason the tradition morphed here into women giving chocolate (only chocolate) to men they like or to their boyfirends. Men, meanwhile, wear black on the day if they are "available."

Some time down in March, on "White Day," men are expected to return the favor. Giving chocolate (only chocolate) back to someone who gave it to you means you are accepting their proposal to ... start something romantic?

I am not sure how rigid these rules are, or if they're widely practiced, but the basic idea is that on V-day women give men chocolate and on White Day men give women chocolate. I assume the choclate industry (Big Cholocate?) has something to do with this.

I had a private lesson on the night of V-day and I got a small box of chocolate from my student (a 20-something woman). Now I do not know if that means she has a thing for me ... it's possible. It's also possible that she's just letting me in on the fun since we had a lesson on The Day.

So when White Day comes around, I suppose I will have to decide if I owe her a small box of chocolates in return. Seems complicated. I like the U.S. system which only requires couples to act on V-day, leaving singles off the hook to mourn in solitude. Ah well. New culture, new rules. Maybe this way IS better. It at least provides more suspense.

G'day.

Dan

Went to Nagoya today. There was some snow. This via my cell. Is the photo oriented right? Probably not.

Edit -- The photo was OK but I spelled the word "to" wrong. Corrected.

Red Wine, Pink Blossoms

I think I need a new pair of jeans. A couple weeks back at Nanaimo, a strange spell of spill-related incidents made its way to the end of the bar, leaving my secondary pair of jeans red-wine-tinted. It started when Aya spilled a beer on Sean. A bit later I spilled some water, but in doing so I passed the curse one chair down to Hashimo, who must have been clutching his red wine class with some determination, because it was reduced to shards, expelling wine onto the bar, and of course, onto my pants. Fortunately, the glass didn't do any damage to Hashimo's hand.

So the pants, and the glass, were the only real victims. More domestic types might know a trick for saving these pants, but they have also developed holes and other problems.

It's time to move on.

Spring being on the horizon, new beginnings are all around here in Japan. This school year ends in March, the new year starting in April. Of course that means a new round of first-year students.

This year, it also means a new direct supervisor, as the guy in that position now has been here for 13 years and is ready to move along. The principal too will end his three-year stint at Yamasho.

In addition, many teachers will move on, new ones filling their spots. Teacher turnover is much more common here. Three years seems like a standard posting, though we do have a few long-term Yamasho people on staff.

Meanwhile, the ALT community in Ise will also see change, but not for another few months. Every year some ALTs move back home or to a bigger city in Japan, seeking excitement, or, possibly, the comfort of living within walking distance of public transportation. That means new faces every year. Sam and I are staying on at Yamasho for at least another year, and a third ALT will join us in the summer when the new contract period starts, working here and at another local school.

I have never been in Japan for spring. This country is wild about seasons. Locals tend to boast to visitors about how they have four of them, only to be somewhat deflated when people like me tell them that we have this in common. There are certain things to see or do in each season here. When I arrived in summer, it was the season of fireworks and festivals. Also, the season of cursing the heat and the humidity. In the fall, it's time to see the leaves change color. I failed to take part. I was busy enjoying mild temperatures and getting used to life in Ise. Winter is dominated by greeting the new year, with shrine visits and a host of other traditions I did not observe first hand.

Spring, it seems, will be cherry-blossom season. On the TV news, forecasters note and predict the progress of the cherry blossom front. I read a book last year by a former ALT who hitchhiked the length of Japan, from the far south to the northern-most tiny island off Hokkaido, following the cherry blossom front. Now I'm afraid I would need a little more vacation time to go for such a journey -- and let's face it, somebody beat me to it -- so I'll settle for some regional viewing.

And while a nice sunny day sounds great right now, I truly fear the return of summer and the sweat that comes with it.

But all I can do is put those memories aside, face the cold February, and prepare for the wave of pink cherry blossoms to emerge from my built-up expectations into some kind of reality.

Why all the shouting?

I think I've mentioned it before, but the teachers' room in a Japanese school is quite different than what comes to mind when you hear those two words back home.

Let's go back in time a few years, when I was walking the halls of McLoughlin High School in Milton-Freewater, Oregon. Besides the administration office -- from where the school is run, from where discipline falls, from where announcements are born, to where sick notes are delivered -- besides that, in an infrequently traveled section of the hallway there was a secretive teacher's room. Students are left to wonder what goes on inside. Our intelligence reveals that they have vending machines, maybe two. A fridge. A microwave. Perhaps a coffee maker. Traces of inside jokes, things too naughty for the the students being shaped and molded and taught to be good in the classrooms that surround it.

The teachers' room, in the states, is off limits.

Cut to: Japan, a few years later, where at 8:25 in the morning, five minutes until the morning meeting in the teachers' room, uniformed students scurry in and out to check something with teachers, grab something for class or deliver a late assignment.

Back home, the teachers' room is really just a "break room," only noteworthy to students because they can't go inside. In Japan, the teachers' room is the nerve center of the school. Instead of keeping desks in their own classrooms, teachers keep desks here. Students stay together in the 40-person homerooms, most of their classes taking place in their home classroom with various teachers coming in for different lessons.

The teachers' room, then, feels like a hyperactive office environment, with teachers rushing back and forth between classes. The grouping of the teachers in one place (well, not exactly one place as there are several teachers' rooms in larger schools; there is always one "main" teachers ' room) reflects the communal aspect of Japanese culture, which gives preference to the group over the individual.

Back home, teachers, along with students, are encouraged to be individuals. Teachers have their own classrooms, which they can decorate as they please within reason. They can choose to hang maps or flags or comics to lighten the mood. In Japan, everything happens out front, in the teachers' room, within and among everyone else. Quick meetings take place from across the room, with people shouting their side of the conversation without looking at the other person. It can get incredibly noisy at times, which is really quite annoying, and some things that I would think should be discussed privately just unfold on the stage.

Another annoying aspect is the hovering. Oh, the hovering. Nearly every day, a woman from the administrative office across the hall comes in to the teachers' room looking for someone. If this person is not readily available, which they often aren't, she stands there waiting, hovering, making those of us not used to this environment go on edge, looking over our foreigner shoulders to see if there's anything we can do to help the hovering office lady (there isn't).

Yes, I could do without the shouting and the hovering (and of course the lack of freedom and independence that is inherent in this system, but this is Japan and we bid farewell to independence when we got off the plane). But I do like that teachers and students can interact freely. It can be fun to chat with students who have stopped in. Often they're curious to know what their ALTs are up to (and often, the answer ... is nothing).

Although I've never experienced the back-home system from the teachers' perspective, I feel that I would prefer it. Having your own classroom to shape as you wish, essentially your own really big office, is appealing. And I would rather not be tossed in to the middle of so many on-the-spot meetings at unnecessarily high volumes.

But this is Japan, and we teachers and ALTs work together as a unit, not as a independent operators. So it goes.