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The experiences of a father and son struggling to communicate without a shared tongue. |
| What is it, beyond language, that is tested in the open, strained, by the stresses, the pushes and pulls of love? |
| Waiting for son to reply to my message request to talk. It's been a couple of days, and I leave for a business trip in two days. I'll be in the U.S. for two weeks, and I just want to talk to him before I go. Also, I'm setting up some Zoom meetings to give him a chance to talk to some of his American family--if he would just reply. He is super busy with his dance club, school, and part-time jobs (and, apparently, girlfriend). I'm not a top priority, and that's okay. I am considering using this blog as a travel log of this trip, but not sure anything of interest will happen. Main purpose of the trip is to establish some international student exchange networks, but also to visit my parents before they pass away. I don't have enough money to afford such trips on my own, so I rely on my school to finance the trip as official business. This means I get to see my parents once every four to seven years--and at their age and failing health, that's just not enough. It is just insane the fees the airlines and rental car companies charge these days. My found trip plane ticket alone costs $2500--and there's no sign these things will become any cheaper in the future, just that they will be required to include these fees in the listed price. Add to the stress the fact that we found my wife's father collapsed and unconscious on his living room floor, where he'd been for possibly a couple of days. Being an arrogant man, he always refused to move into a nursing home or get community assistance like having someone visit him regularly with a healthy meal. From what we understand, he hadn't eaten much in days, and had been sick, but had not informed anyone in his family. Now my wife has to deal with all that stress alone because I will be out of the country. I might sound cold-hearted, but my father-in-law has not been a responsible or caring father for his children in a very, very long time--I will do whatever I can to help him, but his current condition does not move me to sadness. |
| Sitting in my room as a typhoon pours rivers of rain onto the street outside. The main river in the next city over is flooding, prompting an evacuation of all nearby residents. We are safe here because of the hilly landscape, but also because my hobby for the last six years has been emergency preparedness: we've got enough food, water, electricity, etc., to last a week at least in case of blackouts. I've just gotten back from Tokyo, where I gave an hour-long presentation on some research I'd done regarding teaching English. The presentation went extremely well, and seems to have been well received. They'd missed me, too, as they hadn't seen me in about three years due to coronavirus, and because I'm weird to them. For example: it was 2km from my hotel to the venue, so I walked. Nobody walks that far in Tokyo, it seems, not with such convenient and cheap public transport. But I walked, and got lost, and so had to ask various people for directions because, well, I don't have a smartphone--I prefer asking for directions, it's more human. I stayed in a coffin/capsule hotel and loved it, and the hotel was in "little Korea" which I didn't love because I'm just not into K-pop (or any pop for that matter). Spent several hours people-watching in Shinjuku. The weekend before, my wife, son and I traveled down to Fukuoka to visit the U.S. consulate there and renew my son's U.S. passport. It was a good trip, and it was great to spend some time with him. He'll be coming back here next weekend for his grandmother's funeral anniversary, so while the situation is not festive, his visit is something I look forward to. The weekend before that (so, maybe three weekends ago?), the wife and I went glamping in the neighboring prefecture, outside an old silver mining town that's become a World Heritage site. Turned out that all the other guests had canceled because of the approaching typhoon, but it only grazed the area: there was rain, but not much. We had a good time, and sight-seeing in the mine was fun. All-in-all, it's been a busy month between semesters. I've got a couple days this week to gear up for next semester, and also to try to crank out another presentation so the school will pay for another trip to a conference next month (i really need to get out more). |
| In the ten years since I stopped this blog, the divisiveness of online discourse has really struck home. I live in a small town in Japan. My main means of communicating with old friends and family is through Facebook. Facebook became toxic during the Obama presidency. I'm not sure who is responsible for that, though I'm pretty sure it was the result of Facebook's own policies for increasing engagement. Anyway... I lost an old friend who became heavily invested in the far-right conservative talking points. He began uncritically repeating obvious conspiracy theories and allowing his friends to insult me openly when I'd try to engage with him. I first got labeled with the term "libtard" there. It hurt me. Not the name; I couldn't care less what people called me when I had no personal connection with them. No. What hurt was that my old friend did nothing to dissuade his "friends" from attacking me in this way. In the end, he was re-posting pictures of Miley Cyrus (sp?) wipping her bum with the American flag and spouting hatred for her, and when I told him it was obviously a fake picture, he stopped replying to me. Haven't heard from him since. That was probably seven or eight years ago. I often engage with people online. I do it in an attempt to reach people, to help them with their thinking, to get them to see, perhaps, that not everyone they view as "liberal" is some frothing at the mouth facist who hates America. I doubt I've succeeded in more than a handful of exchanges. I enjoy it, though. I enjoy argument--real argument, argument aimed at uncovering unspoken warrants and illuminating the assumptions and evidence that informs both sides. Real argument is rare, though; insults are very, very common. I've received so many insults--they slide off me, no worries. I have, on very rare occasions, flung them back, but as a rhetorical device, not as a personal attack. Anyway... One of the common refrains I've received is "Why don't you go to China and see how life is there?" Why do people assume I haven't? I have. Twice. I went on a sort of honeymoon with my current wife to Beijing in 2004. It was an amazing trip, and I saw a vibrant city full of people hustling to improve their lives; I also saw a couple of horrible things, such as a police officer kicking the legs out from under a beggar who'd approached me. I have no love of China; I also have no romantic illusions or uninformed hatred for the country and its people; for its government I have nothing but contempt. "Why don't you go to China and see how life is there? You liberals don't know s*** about the world." My second trip to China was in 2018. Well, it wasn't China at that time. It was Hong Kong, just before China took the island back. I went to Hong Kong as part of my school's delegation of teachers for an international conference of engineering education, better known as ISATE. I was there to present a paper, to increase our school's visibility on the international stage, and to, for the first time, be the MC for the last night of institutional presentations from key speakers. I am not a public speaker, but I have learned a few things in my years as a musician and as a teacher (and as a former nude model). I can fake confidence. I loved my current teaching position, and wanted to make a big impression. They wanted me to be the MC, I would be a great, smiling, charismatic MC, and the only damn American in attendance. The Hong Kong people told me I would be introducing and hosting a presentation by a very important women. I don't remember her name right now. Actually, her name isn't important. Let's call her BIG VOICE, because that's how she talked: in a huge, bombastic voice full of pride and confidence. As she was speaking, I glanced over at my fellow teachers from Japan, and you could see it in their usually reserved veneer: they hated her. BIG VOICE was a member of the Chinese Communist Party. She was not a teacher at any of the schools that were part of our organization. She was a "guest," proclaiming at great length and high volume the wonderful state of education at China's many engineering schools--a state of education which would soon be extended to the schools of Hong Kong. OK. I'm not sure that what she said. She was speaking Chinese. I do not speak Chinese. But I was guess from her tone, her slides, and from the looks of unease of the faces of my friends in the Hong Kong schools. Did I forget to mention she was the only--the ONLY--participant who declined to give their presentation in English? Yeah, real friendly. "You liberals don't know s*** about the real world." BIG VOICE wound down from whatever idealistic heights she'd constructed and scaled. I took the stage to stand beside her and fulfill one of my primary roles (aside from introducing her and the topic of her presentation): to as for questions from the audience. "Are there any questions from the audience?" I said into the microphone. Crickets. BIG VOICE moved not a hair. "Are there any questions from the audience?" I asked again. Crickets again, and I could see it was because no one in the 300+ audience wanted to interact with this Communist Party shill. Oh, but I did. :) You see, I engage people online because I want to reach out and maybe help them. That's one reason. Another reason is that I'm mischevious and damn clever at times, and really, really decent at argumentation. Being a teacher, and a writer, and highly educated doesn't hurt in that respect. As the MC, it was my duty to create a question for the presenter should the audience fail to do so. Well, she'd been going on and on about how China's engineering schools attracted so many students and produced so many workers, I couldn't resist a little poke--a little nudge in the ribs, perhaps--at the market forces at play. (I was a honor's student in business Finance, by the way, in case you're thinking as so many seem to these days that "Liberals don't know s*** about business"). "Mrs. BIG VOICE," I started, "would you say students enter your schools because the education provided there is going to aid them in finding new and innovative ways of producing new technologies and infrastructure, or is it that they are more attracted by the promise of safe jobs?" This was translated by one of the Hong Kong staff. She gave me "a look." Ice formed on BIG VOICE's upper lip. Who cares what her response was? No matter what she said, everyone in the audience knew it was bulls***. Everyone in the audience knew China was coming to take Hong Kong, and there was nothing anyone there, or anywhere, would be able to do about it. I got my little poke in--my sad, pathetic little poke--for which I am eternally grateful to my supporters at the school. The next day, I hit the streets of Hong Kong without a plan. I wandered until I found a little restaurant for lunch and read the copy of "Elfquest" I'd brought. I wandered until I found the huge office building of Barclays and squatted down on the sidewalk outside their front door and rolled and smoked my smokes while watching people walk by. I visited the Maritime Museum and read its detailed descriptions of how England forced the opium trade on China, and the horrible humanitarian cost of that. I pissed in a huge iPhone store. "You liberals don't know s*** about the world." I am so tired of ignorant comments and personal attacks, but I doubt there's anyone, anywhere, able to do much about it. |
| In the time since I abandoned this blog to the time I took it up again, I took up weight lifting as a hobby. I'd been going to the gym on and off since I started university back in 1989, as a way to try to build my physique from what many described as a "toothpick with a marshmallow on top." I was never consistent or serious. And then my son became serious about his athletics and was going to practice so often, and so seriously, that I began to feel guilty. Here was this kid making a great effort to get better at something he loved, but here were his parents doing nothing much. There was a nice weight room attached to the gym I'd take him to three or four times a week for practice, so I decided to become more serious and try to see what I could do. The first noticeable effect was that my son did notice I was trying to participate in his activity. That was a good thing. The second effect was on my body. I was, at that time, over forty, and still rather skinny.That changed rather quickly--both the age and the body type. I am now over fifty. I am not skinny. At 181cm (6'1"), I weigh a little under 90 kg (200lbs). I bench 130-137 kg (289-300lbs). Not to brag, but I'm a damn V. You see, all the frustrations and anger that I've been suffering through these 10 years, I've channeled into both writing and weight lifting. I did A LOT of weight lifting, and I'm proud of the progress I've made. My son is proud of me, too. Totally worth it, just for that, but also for the fact that it helped me balance my emotions and help clear my thinking processes (a little). I don't go overboard, though: I'm not a health nut. I do it because it feels good and helps me look good. Students are always surprised when they meet me, because they find out quick enough I have no interest in sports, and that confuses them. My other major hobby over the past 3 or so years has been Apex Legends. More on that in a later post. |
| Tried again. And, as I suspected, wife assumed that when I said, "I want to talk about my depression," it meant "I want to talk about divorce." Progress in communication has been made, and some big problems broken down into smaller components. Possible solutions and frustrations with past possible solutions mentioned. In-depth conversations have not happened, but it feels as if a step has been taken. |
| Well, I tried to broach the subject of my depression to my wife last night. Now that she's finished with her exam, she's busy shifting to a new focus, and I wanted to tell her that we need to talk. So, I told her that I am depressed. Her reaction? "What do you want?" "I want you to talk to me. I want you to show that you care." "Talking won't do anything." "You know, I've talked to you a lot about your problems." "Talking doesn't help." "Great, counselor." |
| If you've read this blog before, you know that I was teaching English conversation in Japan, at a private company called Nova, various company classes, and some elementary schools. The work was monotonous and mentally undemanding but spiritually crushing. I was taking home about 3,000-4,000 a month, even when working 6 or 7 days a week. I had a friend who knew my intellectual and publication history. Just after the election of Trump to the White House (which depressed us both), he approached me with an offer: pay him and his business partner a monthly percentage of my income, and they'd headhunt me new work and support me.The service was, basically, a bribe to have someone to "pull the strings" but also (and this was key to me) to help with me interpersonal and administrative matters. The thing about finding work in Japan is not so much what you can do, it's who you know, and they knew a lot of people. After a lot of talking and thinking, and discussing the matter with my wife, I decided to go for it. I couldn't keep doing the same work: it was driving me crazy and offered no possibility of career advancement--or even of hope. Within a week, they found me a position at a local university, a national university, where I could teach 12 classes per semester. I did go in for an interview, and the professor asked, "Why didn't we find you before?" to which I could only reply "You don't exactly make your positions public, do you?" I cannot relate to you the sheer joy and enthusiasm I felt teaching university-level classes again. Made a big impression on the administration, especially given the positive feedback I was getting from students. Within a couple of months, they found me a position at a local branch of a nation-wide chain of national technical colleges called Kosen. This position was weird at first, because I was being hired to fill a position in the "global project": bring the education more in line with an international world than with the traditionally insular systems of Japan. I wasn't supposed to teach, just develop educational materials and write papers. Which I did, having just been introduced to the ideas: I started cranking out papers and presenting at conferences in Japan within a couple months. Soon, I was being flown and housed at the school's expense to both Singapore and Hong Kong to present my ideas at sister institutions there. Despite considering myself a writer, I have no words to express just how amazing this time in my life was: Not only was I getting to see new countries and experience new things, I was being allowed to discuss my ideas with fellow educators from around the world and receiving respect for that. I just can't tell you how much that meant to me. This all stopped with Covid, but it was good while it lasted. They even funded a business trip to the U.S. to set up exchange programs with schools there, and I was able to vist some family and friends during that time--so refreshing. Now, during that entire time, my wife kept freaking out over money: that the money was variable each month, that I was paying a hefty sum to the headhunters every month, that they were going to abandon me, that I was sleeping with them, that I was paying for their children instead of my own--and she was saying these things in front of our child. It was ridiculous: I was making more month per month than ever before, and I was HAPPIER than ever before. She did support me a little when things settled down, but that took years. Now, she doesn't seem to remember how negatively she treated me during that time. Let's look at the other side, then. Now, my wife wants to improve her employment situation. She will be forced to retire in a few years. Counseling has been a major part of her current job as a company nurse, and so she had become more and more interested in becoming a career counselor. After retiring, she wants to become a career counselor, and that means studying a lot right now and passing certification exams. That means spending a lot of time and money on studies. I have no problem with this, and have supported her in ever way I can: money, time, encouragement, etc. I know how important this is to her, and the happier she is, the better her relationship will be with her son. If you remember, I supported her in her studies when she returned to university after our son entered elementary school: I have always supported her. Now that she's studying counseling, she has become more aware of the complex situations between her and I--I think she realizes things cannot continue as they have been. I have been trying to make that clear to her, have been telling her the truth about how unhappy I am, but she doesn't try to talk about it. Right now, as I am writing this, she has finished taking the counselor certification exam. I will approach her in a couple of weeks and let her know that we must talk about how to move forward--and not by ignoring the past. I think I have earned that right. |
| So, when I left this blog, my son was about 8 or 9 years old. Many things have changed for him since then. First, we moved out of our tiny apartment where he was sleeping with us on the living room floor. We moved into, and are still living, in a condominium we bought in the same town. This gave him his own room, and us a small yard and more space--which my wife promised to use to "organize her life" (she didn't). Son's elementary school and junior high school were both within walking distance, and his high school was right across the street. This meant to his joy he could sleep late and still be on time for 1st period. Unfortunately, things didn't work out that way--I'll explain soon. He became interested in running, and showed a lot of promise. From the 1st grade of elementary school, to the time he graduated high school, he finished 1st in the school long distance race ("marathon" as they refer to it in Japan) every year except his 1st year in high school. In junior, he competed in the 3000 meter race at the national championships, and joined the regional long distance relay team ("eikiden") the year after. He also played handball and went to the nationals in elementary school. There were several years of him just being busy with school and athletics, and even being in training for a possible future shot at the Japanese Olympic team. However, by the time he'd reached high school, his interest in sports was beginning to wane. I think he could see he just wasn't competing at the level necessary to make a career out of it--his mother saw it differently and insisted he run every morning before school. Now, the principal benefit of our condo, from his viewpoint and mine, was that it was located across the street from his high school, allowing him to sleep late. But here was his mother, forcing him to get out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to go run when he really didn't want to. She didn't listen to either of us, so I'd drag him out of bed, and he'd leave...to go hide somewhere nearby and sleep. Sometimes he'd oversleep, but eventually he and I worked out a system where either he had an alarm, or I'd find him (I knew his hiding places) and make sure he came back soon. He interest in sport had waned by high school, as I said, but that conflicted with his mother's view. At the end of junior high, she was pushing him to go to the local "sports" high school, where the principal focus was on practice and competition, but our son said he wanted to go to the local high school--the "super science" high school where the focus was on academics. He and I talked a lot about this, because I wanted to make sure he was making this decision for his own reasons, not just to take an "easy" path, or to go against his mother, or even to follow my advice (because I hadn't advised him to go to this high school, but to follow his own instincts). In the end, he fought with his mother, and she blamed me, and he went to the super science high school across the street--which was difficult to get into (entrance exam being tough). And he aced it. He did so good, and he was so much happier there. He continued in the track and field team, but with less emphasis, and he enjoyed that, I think. He followed the same path when choosing a university: I advised him to trust his instincts because he'd made good and successful decisions so far. He chose a more difficult university nearby (about an hour and half drive away). There, he doesn't play sports--except a brief daliance with tennis, which he's always wanted to try). He's joined a hip-hop dance group, and that's about all the exercise he gets. I am extremely proud of him--his ability to choose for himself despite the hurdles in his way--and I have made it clear to him that he owes me nothing. He saw how difficult things were between his mother and I, and despite my best efforts to the contrary, took my side in a lot of the disagreements. I always made sure that he understood the things his mother did, she did because she loved him, and I tried to help him understand her possible ways of thinking. But it was hard: when she'd hit us, verbally abuse us, or she'd storm out without telling us when (or even if) she was coming back, he gave up on her. And I'd have to tell him it was because she loved him. It was my choice, I told him, and he owed me nothing for it. I hope, though, he doesn't come to hate me for it. |
| It was foolish of me to think I could set aside this blog, and selfish. 11 years after stopping this blog, I am going to pick it up again because so much has happened, and so much could happen, to this American living in Japan. Broad strokes first: 1) Son is now in his 2nd year at university and doing very well. 2) Wife and I are adjusting to the empty-next syndrome in different ways. 3) My employment situation improved radically, in that I now teach at a national university and a national technical college. Money is less tight than before, and my employers actually support and expect me to use my brain. 4) I have given presentations on English teaching in Singapore, Hong Kong, and the top universities in Japan. 5) I traveled to the U.S. to establish some exchange programs between our technical college and schools there--and then COVID hit, and our school's budget shrunk. 6) I have published a couple of textbooks since my last blog entry. Now, since the focus of this blog has been raising my son, I will focus on that, even though everything else has colored that experience both for him and for me. So, a bit more about #1 and #2: As I said, he is now in his 2nd year of university, about an hour and a half's drive away. My wife and I make enough money to pay for his tuition and living expenses--this is a source of pride for me because of how dirt poor and white trash I grew up in the U.S. Even though he is a student, his main focus seems to be his social life: he's really loving the dance group he's joined, he hosts a weekly poker game at his apartment, and he's very much into fashion and hair styles. He's a mature kid and doesn't seem prone to the self-destructive impulses I had at his age. He is so much happier now that he is no longer living with his parents. The empty-nest syndrome hit my wife and I fairly hard, because we'd struggled so long and hard to stay together to support our son that once he'd moved out, it was both a relief and a desolation. I have been the source of encouragement and support, though. For me, nothing has gotten better. All the problems we'd had before still continue, but now she doesn't remember them--in fact, her memory is working to change events in the past to make things look better for her. Both I and my son have noted this, and it's a source of concern for both of us. |
| I have made a promise not to discuss details of my family life in this blog. I am going to honor this promise. This is me, trying to make things work. Thank you all for stopping by, but I think this blog is finished. Sorry. I hope you can understand. |
| Today's schedule: 9:15 a.m. to 1pm -- Drive to Yonegawa and teach English; have lunch with students 1:30pm -- Go to bank and withdraw money 1:45 to 3 pm -- Go to car dealer with wife and test drive; pick up photos and photo album (Christmas gift) 3 to 4pm -- Teach English 4 to 5pm -- No idea! 5 to 7:30pm -- Teach English 7:45-8:30pm -- Meet new student and teach?? 9pm -- eat dinner, go to bed How am I doing? Can't get the energy together to focus on this major writing project (textbook sample writing) that's do by next week. Seriously, if I want to write as a profession, then I need to do this, but I can't get my head together. Domestic situation isn't helping. We've got so many decisions to make, not the least of which is whether or not to stay together, though the most minor might be where the hell we are going to live, and others include which kind of car to get, which job to pursue, which country to live in, how the hell to deal with son's growing rebelliousness, and how not to completely freak out. |
| The Divorce Dance. If you've never done it, you don't want to do it, But you probably will, wallflower though you be. Once it's done and gone, though, it's a breeze, Until the next time. And then you have to see Your steps falter as they had before, and worse Your partner take the same missteps as you. They'll swear up and down that it must be this way, And you'll watch, knowing there's nothing you can do. And you might wake to them crying in the night, and know That to reach out to them--your love still they be-- Will not make it right, will complicate things further: alone, Clutching their knees to their chest, sheltering under a lee, They are better off without you. That's just the way it is. You can't fix it. You know because you've done more than glance: You've gone to the ball; felt anger and insignificance Spinning and spinning, as you shambled through the divorce dance. Yes, a rather crappy poem, but written in about 20 minutes, so please forgive. Anyway, it's not entirely evocative of my life at the moment. It does reflect my emotional state after a really bitter fight last night. Sitting in my little room now on a rainy December day in Japan. Not a happy state of affairs. Not happy at all. Really depressed actually, and sinking deeper as things just get more and more complicated the closer the wife and I get to the end of her schooling. She's getting great job offers; I am not. She's getting connections in other cities; I am not. I am working; she is not. I am depressed and so is she. We don't know what to do. And the kid is well aware of all the stress. I hate that he does. I would like to protect him from that, though i know it's important for him to understand that life is not Fantasy Land. |
| A few weeks ago, son began a series of drills that completely baffled me and broke my confidence in both my mathematical and Japanese ability. He is in the middle of the 2nd grade. They have started multiplication, division and fractions. (For the life of me, all I can remember of that time in my own school in America was doing addition and subtraction--near as I can tell my quickly glancing online is that multiplication and division are taught in the 3rd and 4th grade in the U.S. now. Correct me if I am wrong.) They are honing their skill memorizing the multiplication tables. In Japanese, they go through the table like a machine gun through tissue paper. At first, I wasn't at all sure what he was saying. I could hear number in the slur of syllables of phonemes, but none of it made sense. After two weeks of listening to it, and of my own study, I can now understand what he is saying 90% of the time. It goes something like this: "itchi itchi ga itchi itchi ni ga ni itchi san ga san...go go ga zyuugo go roku ga sanzyu," and on and on, said in a blur, almost without drawing breath, gone fast, speed being the key to success. I am still blown away when he says these drills. Anyway. As you may have guessed, this blog has taken a lower priority in my life. There are a few reasons for this, though the primary reason is that the situation between son and I has improved dramatically in terms of communication. I have been studying Japanese more--there is simply no way for him to improve in English enough to make things more comprehensible between us. He is improving in English, and he is trying, but he has a long way to go before he can communicate comfortably. So, I am studying online and taking a night class at the local community center. Another reason is that I am still in the middle of a job search. I have applied to six (or seven?) positions at universities and private high schools in Japan, and am gearing up to send applications to positions in the U.S. and other countries. I am getting out of this town and out of this job at the soonest chance--the wife is with me on this, though she may not understand, despite my clarity, that I am leaving no matter what. The bouts of depression are getting worse and longer-lasting; I fear the longer I continue to do this job, the less chance there will be of getting out. I would like to get a position in the State, to be closer to my family and to not have to deal with the frustrations of being an immigrant, but, honestly, the job situation is so bad, especially for teachers, that I doubt any opportunities exist. I may become a permanent ex-patriot. This was not something I had considered (or even imagined) when I left the States 10 years ago. I was planning to go to Japan for just a year or two. And then life happened. A final reason for not keeping up with the blog is that the wife is in the final stages of university, and extremely busy--which means I am busy, too. We have not divorced. I have kept my New Year's resolution. We came very, very close, though. The reason we didn't has more to do, I think, with the fact that we both want to get out of the situation we are in financially and career-wise than with love. We obviously care about each other, but more than that, we know that if we divorce now, we are going to be stuck in this situation. Somehow, magically, that realization, and this final push to get out of here, has improved relations between us somewhat. I won't go into more detail, because the whole theory doesn't bear up under scrutiny, be suffice to say I am here, she is here, and son is here. We are still together, and we are going to try to keep it that way for as long as possible. The wife and I have agreed, though, that should things get as bad as they had before, we should go our separate ways; there's no reason to keep each other miserable. Today is Monday. I have the following projects to complete: 30 pages editing of an accounting manual, blog entry, lesson planning, go to the bank, finish draft of story, finish draft of poem, write article and submit, start university application. Busy. Goodbye. |
| It is weird, and I am not even sure it is true: this blog seems to be getting more readers now that I've stopped writing in it so often. Don't know what to make of it. Anyway: why so long without a post? I am sorry if I kept any of you waiting. As you may have gathered, I had, and still have, some serious emotional sh#t to take care of in the home, issues and feelings that needed and need almost constant attention. I became exhausted. Given that the situation between son and I continued strong, though, I felt the blog was one of my least priorities, and so let the updates go. Now, I have a little more energy and am trying to get back to writing. Things are still quite unsettled, but a few hopeful signs and positive strides have made a world of difference between the wife and I. I am either patient or pig-headed. Take your pick. Either way, I will live up to my New Year's resolution: don't give up. Listen, learn, love. Fortunately, she finally seems to be attempting the same. So, I have some hope. It is colder these days, which means I get to be stressed out about son freezing to death in school. The classrooms almost never use heating, even in the dead of winter, and the kids, for the most part, wear shorts and, thankfully, three layers of shirts and sweaters. Still, I don't know how they manage it. It amazes me and, yes, stresses me out. I want my son to be warm and comfortable. Older Japanese people I've talked to have reasoned this system as a means of toughening up the little buggers, teaching them patience and strength. Can't really argue with them on that point: could never see me managing to do it back when I was a kid in America. Still... Son and I are doing better. My Japanese is improving, so our communication has smoothed out a bit. I am also making the best efforts I can to be with him whenever possible, though time has become a rare commodity for me. I work seven days a week. Some days I work eight or ten hours; others two or three. Nevertheless, I work seven days a week, because even though I may not be in an office or classroom, I will be at home, writing. I am tired of this schedule, but it looks like I won't be changing it until after next March. The job search continues. I've applied to three universities in Japan, with one more still to go. After that, I will start sending application packages to universities in America and other countries. An old professor of mine recommended I stick to ESL in order to get a university position in the States. I think i will take her up on that advice. Anything to get out of this job. Is this job so bad? Teaching English conversation for up to $100 per hour, requiring little preparation and no homework to grade? No. The work is not difficult. But it is mind-numbingly simple, there is no career advancement, no training, no potential for promotion, no sense of accomplishment, and no sense of being anything other than a replaceable smile. It is not a career. It is something you should do for a couple of years after you finish university, and then get out of as soon as you can. Circumstances may conspire to keep you in the job, as is my case, but never forget that it is a job, not a career, and it can lull you into a sleep of contentment that you will wake up from one day, thinking: where did my life go? |
| No. The bento box is still broken, and we're both tired of eating from it. Bad fight with the wife yesterday over something stupid just sent us right back to the bad place we were just a couple weeks ago. Argh. Well, at least son and I are doing well. It seems that the older he gets, the easier it is to communicate with him. I don't know how many fathers in the world have been in similar situations--raising a child without a common language--but it is not easy in any way. I am emotionally drained and prepared for the end--whatever end that may be. Tired of fighting, tired of Japan's culture of negativity, stress and humility. Yes, humility is a good thing; but when it is taken to such extremes...I don't know what to say anymore. Tired. Headed out the door, in my mind. Want to be happy, but I don't remember what that's like. |
| Extreme schedule and scrabble today: finish and send application for university position, prepare to start teaching new course at new company for new employer tonight, teach kid's lesson at 3:30 p.m., begin writing test chapter for a series of English-learning textbooks to see if they want to pay me for writing the rest, this blog entry, and all kinds of housework.... Maybe my life will prove or disprove the saying that hard work is rewarded. Either way, I hope I can get through to my mother someday. I have tried to call her for the last couple months, but I always seem to call at the wrong times, and she's never there. I am worried about my parents stateside because they are in their sixties, poor and unemployed. And there is nothing I can do to help them. I want to. But I can barely feed my own family as it is. Yes, I am a bit panicky about this, and there's been more than a few times where I've considered just packing it up and moving back to Idaho to live with the parents and help them get through this rough time. They, of course, assure me they are okay. I don't see how. No insurance. No savings. No jobs. Just a house, a garden, and friends. Yeah, they'Ve got more than me in some ways, but I still worry about them. |
| Back into the busy days: wife off to work or school, getting son ready for school, teaching at elementary schools in the mornings then privates in the afternoon. Today, Friday, I pick up son at 4:20 and take him to his exercise class (I hate that I am doing this typical uber-parent thing, but do see the benefit of it, especially as he gets to play with other kids). I think I am making dinner today, though I am not sure right now. Luckily, my private lesson at 5:30 p.m. canceled, so I can watch son at his class. Tonight is his TV night: Doraemon, Crayon Shinchan, music TV, and then a movie (hopefully a decent one for once). I have sent applications to two universities in Japan. I will send another application this coming week, and then another a few weeks after that. Once I've finished this batch, I will start applying to universities in Portland, Oregon. I've decided, with the wife, to take whatever job I am offered at whichever university. I let her know yesterday that I have never been so miserable in my life, though it had nothing to do with her (a bit of a lie there) and son. I am just tired of my living situation, and so sick of my work. Also admitted that I am losing hope about getting a better job or of even getting published. Anyway, here we go again: busy. Just busy. |
| Two days ago I was busy taking care of my own projects and doing housework because the wife was off to university for the evening. This meant, among other things, that son and I were on our own for the night. I am happy to say things went well; but, with me, there is always a catch. I picked son up from school and took him to our English lesson (I teach a small group of kids for one hour, so cheaply as to be almost volunteer work, in an effort to increase my visibility). After the English lesson, we went home. He watched a TV show and I went to the supermarket to get ingredients for dinner. When I returned, I found that one of son's friends had shown up to play. I made a deal with son: "Your friend can stay a while, but you will have to do homework before we eat dinner." He agreed. I slid the living room door shut on them, put on some Led Zepplin (I seem to be on a white-trash, stoner high school nostalgia binge right now), and went to work making curry. Once dinner was ready, I told them time was up and to clean up the now-exploded living room. They did so with very little protest. Son then did his preparation for the next day's school. Son did his homework and then we ate dinner. Bonus for doing homework without bothering me with lots of pointless questions (his favorite activity with his mother): continue watching TV during dinner. After dinner we did the rest of his homework (god this kid has a lot of homework) and then took a bath. Following a fun bath together (yes, in Japan, parents bathe with their children until quite late in years. Son is almost seven. And, yes, this does make me a bit uncomfortable at times) we finished watching Resident Evil 3, did some jigsaw puzzles together, and then play a mini-golf game on the PS2. At this point, son looks at me and says, "You know, I like it when it's just you at home. When mom and I are alone together, I just have to do homework and prepare for school. We never play together." I looked at him, warning bells going off in my head. "Well, if it was just and I, you would probably get worse at school because it's momma who understands all the school stuff." "Oh," he said, not really sounding all that concerned. Trying to ensure I got my point across, I added: "And, please, whatever you do, don't say this to your mother. Okay?" "Okay." I think we both understood why. |
| Still picking up the pieces from the latest fight and reconciliation. Things are quiet in the house, but busy. This morning, I took the neighborhood kids to school (all 200 meters of the walk). Today we have to meet our financial advisor/life planner. I am not looking forward to that. After that meeting, wife goes off to university in Hiroshima, to return around dinner time. I need to go to a clinic and fake a respiratory ailment in order to get a chest x-ray covered by insurance; I need the x-ray for an application to a university teaching position. After that, I need to return home, work on my CV and such, and prepare some lessons for today. At 3:30 I teach a kids English class. Sometime in there, I also need to make dinner; clean the bath, sink and toilet, vacuum; exercise; and work on a 189 page accounting manual. That's the fun one, the manual. Wife needs to pay for one more semester of university, but we just don't have the money. I have urged her to take out a bank loan to cover the costs, but she is hesitant. I haven't told her that a student of mine contracted me to help him with a translation of his company's accounting manual. I will get $1000 for editing the first 189 pages (no translation), and additional money later as he finishes translating. I have decided, despite all the fights, accusations and name-calling, to give wife the $1000 for university fees. I am no angel, though: the other money I will earn later, I am keeping for myself, as a secret savings in case this reconciliation doesn't work out and I need to get a place of my own soon. Also, son's birthday and Christmas are coming up. I am no angel. I am just trying to be a good person who, at the same time, is tired of postponing his own happiness for the benefit of others. |
| Seems the bento box is still usable. For now. Though we both agree it would be nice to get a new bento box. |
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