It is 8 p.m. Saturday and I'm about to head up to Yamasho to get ready to head into Osaka/Kobe for our second game in the tourney. Sounds like we drive part way to a massive rest area (rest areas in Japan are full fledged operations with stores and stuff). We'll "sleep" on the buses while parked, until heading off again in the early morning. The game is set for 9. Rain is threatening. It will be a severe disappointment if after all this weird scheduling the game is delayed. Let's hope the rain takes it easy.
I'm off!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Nice Catch!
Video of the awesome bottom-half of the ninth inning:
click
The announcer guy is confused at the end ... he thought it was a nice catch ... but it was only almost a nice catch.
click
The announcer guy is confused at the end ... he thought it was a nice catch ... but it was only almost a nice catch.
Color me Green
From the beginning, they had us beat in terms of who was more purple.
Our opponents, the Purple Squad from Chiba Prefecture, also started things out right with a solo shot over the left field fence to go up 1-0 on the second pitch.
They quickly added two more in the following frames, and things looked bleak for Yamasho in the single-elimination tournament.
But then in the bottom of the eighth inning we managed a score, 3-1, Yamasho rallying.
Only one, though.
But ever since those three early runs, Yamsho's defense and pitching was stellar. The Purple Fighters' early hitting surge leveled off. Their defense, meanwhile, chimed in with four errors.
Then came the bottom of the ninth. Base hit. Base hit. Base hit. Tie game. One out. Base hit. Game over.
Sorry for the lack of dramatics, but that was how it went. And being me, without a roster, so far away in the cheering section with the obstructed view, I couldn't tell you right now who hit that final shot that made it 3-4 in favor of Yamasho.
But I do know the pitcher:
He was in one of my once-a-week classes during the school-year. One of the lower-level English-speaking classes. But in every class, without fail, his voice carried over all the rest. Always smiling, if not nodding off. But clearly today he was on, smiling, and throwing some serious stuff at the Purple Peddlers.
Thank goodness we were in Hot Green.
(a note about the colors: for some reasons, the cheering sections of school clubs in Japan do not match the actual colors of the teams on the field or court or whatever ... our "school color" is neon/hot green, but the players uniforms are white with blue writing. The other team's cheering section was purple, but so was the writing on their jerseys.)
Our opponents, the Purple Squad from Chiba Prefecture, also started things out right with a solo shot over the left field fence to go up 1-0 on the second pitch.
They quickly added two more in the following frames, and things looked bleak for Yamasho in the single-elimination tournament.
But then in the bottom of the eighth inning we managed a score, 3-1, Yamasho rallying.
Only one, though.
But ever since those three early runs, Yamsho's defense and pitching was stellar. The Purple Fighters' early hitting surge leveled off. Their defense, meanwhile, chimed in with four errors.
Then came the bottom of the ninth. Base hit. Base hit. Base hit. Tie game. One out. Base hit. Game over.
Sorry for the lack of dramatics, but that was how it went. And being me, without a roster, so far away in the cheering section with the obstructed view, I couldn't tell you right now who hit that final shot that made it 3-4 in favor of Yamasho.
But I do know the pitcher:
He was in one of my once-a-week classes during the school-year. One of the lower-level English-speaking classes. But in every class, without fail, his voice carried over all the rest. Always smiling, if not nodding off. But clearly today he was on, smiling, and throwing some serious stuff at the Purple Peddlers.
Thank goodness we were in Hot Green.
(a note about the colors: for some reasons, the cheering sections of school clubs in Japan do not match the actual colors of the teams on the field or court or whatever ... our "school color" is neon/hot green, but the players uniforms are white with blue writing. The other team's cheering section was purple, but so was the writing on their jerseys.)
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
He's not a pitcher, he's a ... wait, yes, in fact, he is a pitcher. Excuse me.
Yesterday, before the school-year-ending ceremony, students and staff gathered in the gym to practice the pre-planned set of cheers to be dispatched during Yamasho's opening game tomorrow at the spring national high school baseball tournament, known generally as "Koshien."
Koshien, which has a summer version as well, is a major deal, with national media attention and live television broadcast.
In what was perhaps a bit of accidental foreshadowing, I attended a day of the Koshien tournament in 2003 when I was just visiting Japan. That summer, as it happened, Yamasho was in the tournament, though at the time I was unaware of any alleged "Mie Prefecture."
So in the summer of 2003, and again in the summer of 2007 just after I arrived in Ise, I was able to experience the organized craze that is high school baseball in Japan.
What struck me most originally was the organized and civil nature of the cheering sections. For an American, cheering on your team is about making noise, shouting insults, or in high school student sections, coming up with clever cheers or personal attacks.
In Japan, by contrast, the cheering routine is rehearsed and polite. When our team comes up to bat tomorrow, our student section will rise and offer a cheer song, backed up by the school band, a group of "cheer girls" in the usual cheerleader uniforms and a unit of "cheer guys." The guys seem to be the leaders while the girls focus on dancing and pom-pom control. I should also point out that these guys and gals have rehearsed dance moves to go along with the cheers, which they do without any apparent embarrassment (I have not found a Japanese person who cannot dance, if pressed; it seems to be a highly respectable thing to be able to do).
When the other team is up to bat, despite better logic, we sit quietly, showing respect to the other team. Meanwhile, that team's cheering section, located across the big league ballpark, stands at attention.
There is no unfounded but widely accepted belief that the opposing team's pitcher may be, in fact, a belly itcher. In addition, no one, at any time, asserts that the umpire should submit to a previously unscheduled eye examination. (Or perhaps in deference to maintaining the harmony of social relations, such suspicions go unsaid.) To the American baseball fan, these facts are difficult to understand.
So here I am, the day before the big game, and I am not, despite instincts, coming up with a clever ESPN acronym to try to get on TV. Instead, I'll have to hop that the camera men take a liking to our cheer girls or our neon green trucker hats with the school name across the top. Or, in an attempt at internationalization, I could probably get on TV by introducing to Japan the U.S. sports tradition of streaking through the outfield.
Koshien, which has a summer version as well, is a major deal, with national media attention and live television broadcast.
In what was perhaps a bit of accidental foreshadowing, I attended a day of the Koshien tournament in 2003 when I was just visiting Japan. That summer, as it happened, Yamasho was in the tournament, though at the time I was unaware of any alleged "Mie Prefecture."
So in the summer of 2003, and again in the summer of 2007 just after I arrived in Ise, I was able to experience the organized craze that is high school baseball in Japan.
What struck me most originally was the organized and civil nature of the cheering sections. For an American, cheering on your team is about making noise, shouting insults, or in high school student sections, coming up with clever cheers or personal attacks.
In Japan, by contrast, the cheering routine is rehearsed and polite. When our team comes up to bat tomorrow, our student section will rise and offer a cheer song, backed up by the school band, a group of "cheer girls" in the usual cheerleader uniforms and a unit of "cheer guys." The guys seem to be the leaders while the girls focus on dancing and pom-pom control. I should also point out that these guys and gals have rehearsed dance moves to go along with the cheers, which they do without any apparent embarrassment (I have not found a Japanese person who cannot dance, if pressed; it seems to be a highly respectable thing to be able to do).
When the other team is up to bat, despite better logic, we sit quietly, showing respect to the other team. Meanwhile, that team's cheering section, located across the big league ballpark, stands at attention.
There is no unfounded but widely accepted belief that the opposing team's pitcher may be, in fact, a belly itcher. In addition, no one, at any time, asserts that the umpire should submit to a previously unscheduled eye examination. (Or perhaps in deference to maintaining the harmony of social relations, such suspicions go unsaid.) To the American baseball fan, these facts are difficult to understand.
So here I am, the day before the big game, and I am not, despite instincts, coming up with a clever ESPN acronym to try to get on TV. Instead, I'll have to hop that the camera men take a liking to our cheer girls or our neon green trucker hats with the school name across the top. Or, in an attempt at internationalization, I could probably get on TV by introducing to Japan the U.S. sports tradition of streaking through the outfield.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
some words
This has been a Sunday afternoon of nothing-ness. I cycled to the convenience store for a snack. I download-rented "Michael Clayton" via iTunes (haven't watched it yet). Back to workless work tomorrow -- the students have already stopped regular school for the term. Final tests are over. Closing ceremony this week, then spring break for the students. Unlike in the U.S., spring break is not so break-y for staff. We still must report to work or use paid holiday ... which I'd prefer to save for a time when I have some kind of plan. So I go to work with nothing to do and do nothing. It's painful. But at least we can sneak out a little early and enjoy our free time with the weather turning nice (minus the rain, but I'm kinda used to that). That is all.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Here we gooooo
Shortly, I shall leave my apartment in Ise, eventually getting to the airport, boarding a plane and, strangely, on this Friday morning, flying into Friday half-way around the world.
See you there.
See you there.
Soap Box
So in Times Square a bomb goes off at a military recruiting station. A small one. Anyway, the word is that they think it was not an act of terrorism.
What?
A bomb is not "terrorism" ?
What they mean is that it wasn't an extremist Muslim, right?
Can't we agree that terrorism is terrorism regardless of reason or race or religion?
What?
A bomb is not "terrorism" ?
What they mean is that it wasn't an extremist Muslim, right?
Can't we agree that terrorism is terrorism regardless of reason or race or religion?
Monday, March 3, 2008
snapshot
This tiny, grainy picture, courtesy of Yamasho's home page, shows the students filing in for graduation on Saturday. You may be able to spot a few people featuring non-black hair. That would be me in the middle with Sam on my right and former Yamasho ALT Pam on my left. That is the chair in which I sat for the ceremony, except for the parts when I stood and bowed.Sunday, March 2, 2008
This way for naked men
Somehow, I had gone six months without stripping down and getting into a hot tub with a bunch of Japanese men.
Fortunately, this major oversight was rectified last night, after my friend Mayumi responded to a "what are you up to tonight" with an invitation to a sentou, or public bath.
A sentou is like the more widely known onsen, or hot spring, but is indoors. Onsen feature sulfur-smelling natural pools; sentou offer a variety of different baths and saunas. I have not been to a proper onsen.
Both feature naked men. Also, naked women, but a key feature of these places is that the men and women are separated to keep things civil. Some advice: If you ever trek to one of these naked parties on your own, I would learn the Japanese kanji for man (男）and woman（女）.
There comes a time when you have to choose one of two directions, and it is probably a good idea to avoid an incursion into lady-land.
Once I was safely inside the naked man area, I was, not surprisingly, surrounded by naked men, casually walking around, relaxing, or filing their tax returns. They were everywhere, and of all ages. Things started out in a traditional locker room, which I would describe as like a health club locker room back home, but with more naked men.
And the naked men here are not concerned about limiting their naked exposure time. This is a public bath, not a public pool. Being naked is not an unfortunate side effect of the experience, but rather the point.
So I quickly found a locker, dropped in a 100 yen coin, threw in my backpack, and ran for the exit.
OK so I didn't really run away. I had already made the decision to not be a wuss. The only reason I could think of to turn down the offer was fear or embarrassment. I decided these reasons were not good enough. And this is Japan, after all, and being naked with a bunch of men is a key cultural experience that I had somehow escaped on three previous visits and half a year of living here.
So I stripped down and headed for the bath area. Now here is where I realized I had made a mistake. I had brought a full-sized towel for drying off after the affair, but when you walk around the bath area you are supposed to carry a small towel you get at the public bath. I failed to get this towel. This was a result of confusion out front, when Mayumi said I didn't need to buy the towel from the machine. Turns out, one requirement for having such a towel would have been buying said towel from the machine out front. The little towel is used for washing up before you get into the bath, and, for some, as a private-parts-covering-device.
But covering up is not really a major need. Some people seem concerned with covering up while others let it all hang out. I decided to forget the little towel as I went to wash up before getting into the bath.
This is a key rule of bathing in Japan, weather you're at home or at the naked party. You wash up first, then rinse, and only then do you enter the bath water. At home, bath water is shared. Of course, the water is shared at the public bath too. So it makes sense to clean up before you get in.
After I scrubbed up a bit, I got in the largest of the baths, which I would describe as being about as big as a Starbucks. By this time, I had gotten over the naked factor, and I was actually enjoying my time in the hot water. But I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing something "wrong." Am I allowed to sit here? Can I go over by those bubbles? Is that guy looking at me funny?
By the time I decided to relax, it was already time to go. But fortunately I've gotten over my fear of Japan's public bath culture. I now have a deeper appreciation for culture. And I now can avoid it for another seven months.
Fortunately, this major oversight was rectified last night, after my friend Mayumi responded to a "what are you up to tonight" with an invitation to a sentou, or public bath.
A sentou is like the more widely known onsen, or hot spring, but is indoors. Onsen feature sulfur-smelling natural pools; sentou offer a variety of different baths and saunas. I have not been to a proper onsen.
Both feature naked men. Also, naked women, but a key feature of these places is that the men and women are separated to keep things civil. Some advice: If you ever trek to one of these naked parties on your own, I would learn the Japanese kanji for man (男）and woman（女）.
There comes a time when you have to choose one of two directions, and it is probably a good idea to avoid an incursion into lady-land.
Once I was safely inside the naked man area, I was, not surprisingly, surrounded by naked men, casually walking around, relaxing, or filing their tax returns. They were everywhere, and of all ages. Things started out in a traditional locker room, which I would describe as like a health club locker room back home, but with more naked men.
And the naked men here are not concerned about limiting their naked exposure time. This is a public bath, not a public pool. Being naked is not an unfortunate side effect of the experience, but rather the point.
So I quickly found a locker, dropped in a 100 yen coin, threw in my backpack, and ran for the exit.
OK so I didn't really run away. I had already made the decision to not be a wuss. The only reason I could think of to turn down the offer was fear or embarrassment. I decided these reasons were not good enough. And this is Japan, after all, and being naked with a bunch of men is a key cultural experience that I had somehow escaped on three previous visits and half a year of living here.
So I stripped down and headed for the bath area. Now here is where I realized I had made a mistake. I had brought a full-sized towel for drying off after the affair, but when you walk around the bath area you are supposed to carry a small towel you get at the public bath. I failed to get this towel. This was a result of confusion out front, when Mayumi said I didn't need to buy the towel from the machine. Turns out, one requirement for having such a towel would have been buying said towel from the machine out front. The little towel is used for washing up before you get into the bath, and, for some, as a private-parts-covering-device.
But covering up is not really a major need. Some people seem concerned with covering up while others let it all hang out. I decided to forget the little towel as I went to wash up before getting into the bath.
This is a key rule of bathing in Japan, weather you're at home or at the naked party. You wash up first, then rinse, and only then do you enter the bath water. At home, bath water is shared. Of course, the water is shared at the public bath too. So it makes sense to clean up before you get in.
After I scrubbed up a bit, I got in the largest of the baths, which I would describe as being about as big as a Starbucks. By this time, I had gotten over the naked factor, and I was actually enjoying my time in the hot water. But I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing something "wrong." Am I allowed to sit here? Can I go over by those bubbles? Is that guy looking at me funny?
By the time I decided to relax, it was already time to go. But fortunately I've gotten over my fear of Japan's public bath culture. I now have a deeper appreciation for culture. And I now can avoid it for another seven months.
Friday, February 29, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
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)
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)
Friday, February 22, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
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.
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.
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