ENTRY 11

(Also, I learned that she’s pretty bad at karaoké lacking either passion or precession. I clearly benefit from one in far excess to the other, but yeah.)

Transition to teaching

Today, I read http://deadhobosociety.com/haiku/viewHaiku.php?TextId=163 Buson:

 さびしさのうれしくもあり秋の暮
 An autumn eve; there is joy too, In loneliness

The transition to teaching

8月25日 (火\水) 12:51am JST

Today, I taught a whole class for the first time. Afterwards, I felt a bit keyed up from all the nervous energy being played out. Middle schoolers in Japan have to apply to get into high school, so some prospies were touring the school today. More tomorrow and the next day as well. The teachers came to us in the morning to plan a little for the lesson. I was too sleepy to make out what was up, so I trusted T--- to fill me in on the details later. Later that day, M-sensei and I practiced my presentation, etc. The class started a few hours after that. The first one was quiet and M worried that I talked too fast. The second class went noticeably better, but I wouldn’t call either class a failure. It was more about imparting the sensation of an “Oral Communication” class than implanting actual knowledge anyway. T--- says Y-sensei is a pro in the classroom. I’m curious to see that.

Also, my girlfriend made the first incoming call of my new phone line. We talked for several hours. It was good.

8月27日 (木\金) 12:29am JST

After class today, I was very happy to be done teaching the middle schoolers.

Until I realized that teaching is my job, which I am expected to do every day.

One month down, eleven (at least…) to go, I guess.

I think I broke my rice cooker. I tried to use it this weekend. I put in rice and water, only to have it all come out of the bottom of the apparatus, as though I had capriciously poured two glasses of water on the counter for no reason. Rice got lodged in the mechanism and, in the course of time, began to rot. So, I tried to wash it out in my sink. After washing a couple cups of rice down the drain, I noticed the LCD had fogged over. Leaving it to dry today didn’t help. I put in a bowl, which, I had learned, is used to hold the rice when cooking, and tried it out, but the Japanese equivalent of the “cook” button apparently had no effect on the temperature of the rice. The “keep warm”-equivalent button did manage to keep the rice a medium sort of warm, causing me to suspect that in order to get the cooking mechanism to engage one must thoughtfully navigate using the now inoperative LCD.

The rice cooker incident put me in a semi-reflective mood. The {{Taifu}} taifû seems to have driven out the heat, and Lawson’s now offers niku-man— all signs of a change of season. Of course, even with the heat reduced, I still stink from my armpits. Recently, I discovered that I had been using deodorant instead of antiperspirant deodorant. I naturally rectified the error, though supplies are hard to come by out in the distant east of Asia.

Walking outside this evening, I saw a couple sitting on swings in the playground. The emotion one experiences at such a time is one with which I think anyone can naturally empathize. Closeness and distance intermingle. Childhood and adolescence overlap. It’s such a concrete emotion, yet it’s utterly universal.

Today, I read Buson:

さびしさのうれしくもあり秋の暮 An autumn eve; there is joy too, In loneliness

This poem expresses perfectly what Sôshi meant by, “People all over the world try to know what they do not know, instead of trying to know what they already know.”

Surely, I knew these things before. But now, how much more fully do I know what I knew?

8月28日 (土) 3:15pm JST

Last night, there was a party at H’s. I ended up getting home at 2am. I managed to keep from drinking too much by cutting myself off when I ran out of ‘Mon Frere.’ Clearly, a Solomon-like display. I find that the pink-bottle tastes a lot like the white bottle. I have yet to try red.

I think H may have been upset at her husband after the party, when everyone else was going to karaoké. Tensions simmer between T--- and I. She accused me of having a drawl. She and English J talked of “dodgy geezers” just to revel in their own obscurity. If I were thinking quicker, I would have responded in Japanese, a language far more practical than any spoken by the queen.

I had a dream last night that my rice cooker worked. I was disappointed when I learned that it was just a dream.

I gave H’s husband some ThisSite:/art/sumi/ sumi paintings and told him to sell them for 50% commission. We’ll see if anything ever happens.

No real plans for today.

8月30日 (日\月) 12:51am JST

I spent a nontrivial amount of time yesterday and today wandering around, vaguely looking for stuff. Wandering has always been a favored pastime of mine. During my sisters’ basketball games (and the sometimes the off quarters of my own), I’d just sort of walk around the building aimlessly or look for areas to explore inside.

The ideal wander should take place on a clear autumn night, as a palpable melancholy fills one’s chest. The moon and Orion should rival one another in the heavens. This weekend is still too warm to satisfy such conditions, but I did stumble into some shrines and see a hawk eat a worm (snake?) on a path for bikes by a large river, back-dropped by blue mountains. I got fairly turned around on some backroads and sidestreets, all while feeling sorta sorry for myself.

So, mission accomplished, I guess.

8月31日 (月\火) 12:53am JST

After school today was fairly eventful. The English teachers had an enkai, and I wowed them with my abilities to drink hot saké, eat whatever’s put in front of me, and sing Japanese karaoké. T--- and I suspect the cost of the festivities will be automatically deducted from our salaries later.

(Also, I learned that she’s pretty at karaoké lacking either passion or precession. I clearly benefit from one in far excess to the other, but yeah.)

Also taken from my salary today was my rent, a major milestone on my rocky road to net financial gain for my trip to Japan. With this out of the way, hopefully my lowest point has been reached.

After karaoké, I got back in time to see Katori Shingô pretend not to host (or pretend to pretend not to host) a faux-English program promoting his starring role in “http://www.nin-nin.com/ Nin-nin,” a movie about a cartoon version Hattori Hanzo, whose actual museum I’ve been to. It was extra-surreal, even for SMAP, and I could feel my brain aboil inside my skull as I watched. The important thing to remember is that the fake George Bush is confident in getting Jun’ichiro’s vote come November.

Good to know.