The goals of the seminar were two-fold: 1) to familiarize JETs with life in Shizuoka prefecture, and 2) to share teaching tips and hints for planning English lessons. We were swamped with information but I found most of it very helpful. I planned my first self-introduction lesson and had a chance to practice in front of a group. The key is to use SIMPLE SENTENCES and use LOTS of gestures, photos, etc...anything that incorporates more than one sense. My lesson went well so I feel pretty good about starting in September. I was not expecting to be responsible for lesson plans, but I got lots of teaching ideas last week so I'm in good shape. I was in a room with people from the US, Ireland, Canada, and England, and I laughed a lot more than I expected. One guy's introduction was absolutely hilarious. Kieran is from Ireland and when reviewing his family tree, he said that his one-year old neice looked like a sausage. He also taught us that Pierce Brosnan is not English, as he leads us to believe, but is actually from Ireland! Kieran drew a stick figure with a gun in one hand and a martini in the other, and combined with his Irish accent, this was too much for us to handle. The whole room cracked up.
Another guy (this time from England) made us laugh during the grading discussion. We learned that in Japan, a check mark means that it's WRONG, just like an X. If you want to mark a CORRECT answer, you draw a small circle. Evidently, the British call check-marks 'ticks.' One guy raised his hand and told a story about how he was asked to grade the English journals. He had no idea what the English standard was at his school, so he graded generously. Only he worded it like this: "I didn't have the heart to be cruel. I thought to myself, 'Hey, I can't write this in Japanese, they're doing great' so I gave them loads and loads of ticks. I showered them in ticks." Imagine that with a British accent. And remember that ticks = check marks, which to a Japanese person means he did poorly or got it wrong. Maybe you had to be there, but we died laughing.
The next morning, we met for announcements in the Main Hall. After the official words, we were told to stand up for "traditional Japanese morning exercises." This was the highlight of my infant professional career. Two hundred people in suits (or some form of business attire) jumping up and down, touching toes, leaning to the left, stretching to the right, and counting in Japanese to the exercise music. Light, Eastern aerobics in suits. It was absolutely hilarious and I had to bite my lip in more than one place to hold back the laughter.
Overall Kakegawa was a good experience, but I did not arrive in the greatest spirits. I had a 2-hour train ride, then a noon hike with luggage to a non-airconditioned educational center, where I did not get to eat lunch. Drenched in sweat, we had to change into suits, but we could not check into our rooms until later. I was starving, tired, and sweating in business clothes, stepping over 200 suitcases and 200 people to find a seat in the conference room, when they announced that the showers were typical Japanese showers. Read: They were communal. As this educational center was NOT a hotel, no towels were provided. We were told to bring our own, but I missed that memo and had nothing more than a package of Kleenex. So as desperate as I was for a nice cool shower, the prospect of a COMMUNAL one without even the slightest "protection" of a towel did little to brighten the day.
Fast-forward to that night: Shower-time. (Read this at your own risk.) I was so hot and sticky, there was no way I would go to bed dirty. The girls in my living group decided to investigate the situation together. Considering we were embarrassed about being naked together, it's ironic that we showered at the same time. But I guess there can be safety in numbers, regardless of the situation. We changed into our pajamas, and five girls and four towels headed shyly towards the bath. (Don't get my wrong, I HAD planned to visit a traditional Japanese bath at some point...but occasionally, "opportunities" arise before you seek them out. You just gotta jump on the train when it rolls by...or in this case, jump naked into a tub with 4 other naked girls when you're hot and tired and desperate to feel clean.)
We walked through the red curtains (the blue side was for boys, so this was NOT co-ed), took off our slippers, and walked into the dressing room. In a blur I saw girls toweling off in front of cubby holes stuffed with soap and clothes. They were laughing loudly and might as well have been at a bar. My group must have looked terrified, or very intimidated, because the half-naked British girls flashed us big smiles and said, "Go on lovelies, take it off!" We waited for the British girls to clear the way, a little put-off by their enthusiasm. Then I walked to a cubby, staked out my little territory, and got undressed. I walked into the shower room, turned on the faucet, adjusted the temperature...and...took a shower. No stalls, lots of girls, but so what? Nobody cared. Nobody paid attention. Some girls chatted but for some reason I didn't feel uncomfortable. I'm pretty independent, but it's amazing what I'll feel comfortable with if everybody else is already doing it.
After you get clean in the shower, you have the option of soaking in the HOT tub. Half of my girls threw their clothes back on and left, but the other half was in the tub. So I got in and enjoyed my first real soak in a long time. A few minutes later I got out and rinsed off in cold water again. In the dressing room I struggled to get dressed without a towel, but I left the bath feeling very clean, refreshed, and if I do say so myself...proud. If an American chick can take a communal bath when she expected privacy, she starts to think there aren't too many embarrassing situations she can't handle.
You realize that what may embarrass you, others may not find worth writing home about. And once you get over the brief euphoria of undeserved pride, some things just aren't a big deal.
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