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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? |
| In a dream, a boy stands in a room with no walls, but three doors: red, white, and gold. In front of the boy stands a spirit. It speaks. He cannot understand the words, but he feels them to be cold, dead and lifeless. Each cadence tires him. He tries to make sense of what is said. The speaking ceases. Unsure what to do, he waits. He waits a long time, the spirit watching him. And then, with exquisite pain, pain which he feels, and a death he knows his own, he is torn apart by hands reaching out from the darkness. The dream ends. The dream returns. Every night it returns. He grows afraid of sleep. Eventually, he realizes it is a puzzle. He must choose a door. Beyond each door, a seemingly infinite number of windows hangs in space. Behind each window a stairway leads down to small, gated fence. Each post is made of baby teeth tied together with silver thread. He learns through pain. Every night, he makes a different choice until he can move a little further ahead. And every night he is torn apart, painfully, and dies. He guesses that the spirit is telling him the proper path to take, to escape the dream, but try as he might, he has no clues to decipher the language of the dead. He is an old man now, and quite deranged from lack of sleep and the experience of dying again and again. He has made it as far as the gated fences. His hell is that he isn't sure what lies beyond the fence, only the promise of escaping this room without walls. |
| Today is a national holiday and, coincidentally my day off. Son was off of school today, and wife was at school all day. So, I got to stay home with son and watch him. We had a great time. We played outside, practiced jumping rope and soccer, went for a walk, went to the bookstore and browsed, went shopping (twice, because I forgot to buy ice cream the first time), did homework, played a few video games, and watched a couple of his videos. Of course, I made lunch and did some writing when I could find the time--in the last two days I've managed to crank out more articles than I used to in a week, I don't know how. So, wife is happy she's been able to study relatively stress-free. Son is happy to have stayed home with papa. Papa is happy to have helped wife and son, and get some work done. That's why freelancing is better than working: the freedom of schedule. However, we are broke. No money. Student loan people are not willing to wait anymore (tough luck, I say), and right now son is perched on my shoulders, pulling my ear and demanding some more attention or (which I don't want to do) let him watch TV. That's why freelancing can be a pain. |
| Here's a list of what son and I did for New Year's vacation 2010: --Went to the aquarium. --Played lots of "Time Crash," a board game son received for Christmas. --Went to the movies, though separate theaters: he to watch "Kamen Rider," I to watch "Avatar". This was his first time to watch a movie by himself--he was very proud. --Flew a kite for the first time. --Watched "Don't Laugh TV" with a big bowl of popcorn (our yearly ritual). --Played many games of Uno. --Started to learn how to play chess. --Had a few fights. --Studied together. |
| New Year is the biggest holiday in Japan. Traditionally, it stretches from January 1st to the 15th; recently, most people observe it as being the 1st to around the 3rd. Still, it's the holiday where people travel back to their parents' or grandparents' house, relax, eat, drink, talk and laugh. It really can be quite beautiful, with all the colorful decorations, the kimono, and the food--raised on Mac N' Cheese, I have nonetheless become something of a foody in my ten years in Japan. My small family is made of American and Japanese cultures, so for us, New Year's Eve is a key time, and we have developed a tradition which my son and I look forward to with great anticipation: we watch "Don't Laugh TV". "Don't Laugh TV" (Waratteikenai Terebi) is a five- or six-hour program that plays once a year on New Year's Eve. It is a comedy program, and my son and I love it because it's the only comedy program we can both watch and enjoy. My son is Japanese. He, and so many others in Japan, loves "manzai," what Westerners might refer to as stand-up comedy or comedy duos--but Japanese manzai is quite intricate and fast-paced, with rhythms and timing that, the more I watch, beguile me. There's a lot of word-play. Son gut rolls; I sit, bewildered. Now, "Don't Laugh TV" is not manzai. The focus of this program is more slapstick and visual/situational humor. This I can get from the limited amount of words I understand and my pretty fair ability to read situations. The premise is quite simple: take five men and put them in an unusual situation where many unexpected things happen, at which they cannot laugh. When I first came to Japan, there were a few programs like this, the most common being that famous people were given a heart-rate monitor and then put in situations where they would be surprised. If their heart-rate rose above a certain limit, they lost a point. It was fun to watch, but not so interesting. "Don't Laugh TV" took this idea and twisted it wonderfully. The five men cannot laugh; if they do laugh, they get whacked on the ass, hard, by anonymous men dressed head-to-foot in black carrying big, rubber sticks (the symbolism is not lost on the audience, trust me). It hurts, briefly. The more they laugh, the more they get spanked. Any laugh is punished, even a snigger, as they are watched constantly by video cameras stationed throughout the environment. Now, the twist is this: the five men are comedians, people who are especially tuned to the humorous in any situation. Two pairs are comedy duos: Matsumoto and Hamada (the comedy due Downtown), and Endo and Tanaka (I don't know their duo's name). The odd-man out is Yamazaki. It seems to be a gentleman's understanding that keeps these five from trying to make each other laugh and spanked, but sometimes they try, and it can be quite funny the levels of duplicity they contrive. So you have five men whose profession is making people laugh, who will be punished if they laugh, which is funny, in a situation designed to make them laugh. It is deliciously sadistic, and so we, the audience, laugh even more. Unfortunately, some of the jokes require a knowledge of Japanese popular culture and history. However, if you are just willing to suspend the need to understand, the slapstick elements alone are quite enjoyable. Situations so far: high school, hot spring, hospital, newspaper, and (this year) hotel. This year's was not so funny, and was too long, but if you get the chance, try to find the hospital or newspaper one on YouTube. Its Absurdist-made-popular. There's no attempt made to intellectualize or politicize the comedy: its just cathartic, a chance to laugh at people in truly absurd (but oddly familiar) situations. "Don't Laugh TV" shows Japan as the Japanese see it: profoundly humorous. The image of Japan, to outsiders, is one of deadly earnestness, a serious, driven people unable to laugh. Well, check out this TV show, and you will see another side, a much more relaxed, self-defacing side. There are versions with subtitles on the next. An example is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDCv3bHI0c8 |
| I seem to be in the mood for writing reviews. In this case, I would like to offer you my feelings on a song that I feel is beautiful. "Faithless" is from the 2007 studio album "Snakes and Arrows" by the Canadian rock group Rush. The lyrics, written by the group's drummer, Neal Pert, are on the subject of faith--that's "faith" with a small "f", as the faith he speaks of is not the faith propounded by religious devotionals. The faith Pert speaks of is the faith of someone who maintains hope in the face of hopelessness, who still believes in love despite losing loved ones. The speaker declares his stand from the first lyrical line: "I've got my own moral compass to steer by." The speaker struggles against the "voices" of the world, urging him against his own feelings, but the speaker must resist: "Like a stone in the river against the floods of spring, I will quietly resist." Rush has often been described as "the thinking man's band," and Rush fans do seem to demand a deeper level of thought of their music than most--and Rush has long delivered. Peart has been writing lyrics for the band since joining in 1974 and writing lyrics for the band's second album, "Fly by Night." For the album "Snakes and Arrows," which includes the song "Faithless," the predominant theme is faith--faith in love, faith in life, faith in oneself to find the strength to continue on: admirable themes, and life-affirming. These themes would be poignant enough if they just reflected the life of three musicians who've been growing older, raising families, and working to express their creative selves to the fullest (as Rush has been doing for well over 35 years). However, knowing Peart's recent family history adds another level of almost unbearable poignancy to the song "Faithless." Peart's daughter died in an automobile accident in 1997, and soon after his wife died of cancer in 1998. Peart told his long-time bandmates that he was "finished," and they respected his decision, putting the band on hiatus instead of just going out and finding a replacement. Peart went on a motorcycle tour of North America and wrote a book, both as a means to meditate on life. One of the results of these two journeys is the lyrics of "Faithless": "I don't have faith in faith. I don't believe in belief. You can call me faithless...I still cling to hope, and I believe in love. And that's faith enough for me." "Faithless" is a rallying cry for anyone (such as myself) whose beliefs fit outside traditional, religious doctrine. Anyone who claims that non-religious persons have no morals should be made to this to this song. Oh, and did I mention that the music accompanying the lyrics is beautiful? Well, with Rush, a band of three virtuoso musicians that have working together for three decades, that's a given--though the album unfolds one musical surprise after another. Rush has never been content to sit on its laurels and produce one similar sounding album after another. Their sound and compositional skills have evolved, peppered with healthy doses of experimentalism, to produce an incredibly mature and satisfying work. Myself, I've been a fan of Rush since the early '90's (sixteen years after their first album was released), and I'm more likely to be found listening to really heavy music like Tool or The Agonist (both bands who owe quite a lot of legacy to Rush, admitedly) than to rock, but Rush has never failed to satisfy and surprise. I found the change of Geddy Lee's bass style from leading to harmonic refreshingly open. If you have the time and money to spare, go out and buy "Snakes and Arrows". Take an afternoon, put on your headphones, lay back, close your eyes, and listen--really listen. "Faithless" is only one song out of thirteen on the album--"The Main Monkey Business" deserves at least five good, in-depth listens. |
| I'd been waiting about a month to see "Avatar," mostly for the special effects. I'd seen the quality of the CG in the previews, and was frankly amazed at how far the technology has come. In the lead up to seeing the movie this afternoon, I had read quite a few reviews of the movie. Some of the reviews shocked me for their total stupidity ("This movie, believe it or not, has an environmentalist theme"); some I found too dismissive ("If I want to see a three-hour video game, I'll buy a Playstation"). I went in cautious. I came out cautious. Some movies you go to for story; some you go to for the thrills. Given it's three-hour running time, I expected "Avatar" to deliver on both thrills and storyline. Well, the thrills are three. The CG is great, and the director really does move us towards some visual poetry in terms of color and movement. This alien world, at once so similar and different to our own, is stunning in its beauty. You can tell that this level of control of the director over even the smallest detail is something James Cameron must've relished. I'm not sure how much detail he left in the hands of other creative contributors, but you can really see that this must control could become addictive to a director. Now, the story is there, but it's simple, pretty much in line with the standard expectations of the studio's target demographic: teenage boys. The movie is divided by natural guys (the aliens) and military/corporate guys (humans). Of course, the good guy is the human who chooses to save nature. Yeah, that was a given from the start of the movie. The characters, though beautiful to look at, have about the same emotional range as a game control: just a few buttons to switch between love, happiness, sadness and anger (and anger, here, as is so often in the case of movies these days, is mistaken for emotional depth). Now, here's where my review can be different. You see, I'm an American living in Japan. I went to this movie alone today, and the theater was packed with Japanese people. When the humans firebombed the aliens' home with all those women and children running around, you know...I just couldn't help wondering how many people out there in the audience were making the same connection as I to the firebombing of Tokyo, which killed about 100,000 civilians. Or when the evil human reprimands the good human by saying, "Do you think you're one of them? You'll never be one of them!"--yeah, I felt myself to be singled out. Of course huge parallels could be drawn between the humans' actions in this movie to the way European Americans destroyed the native peoples of North America. However, the ending of this movie really problematizes that reading: You see, this movie ends on a "happy" note, with the humans being escorted (quite humanely) off the planet by the victories natives. Now, what are the remaining billions of humans going to do? Wait out there on a dead Earth? "Oh, those thousands of natives drove us away! We'd better head their warning!" Oh, god, no. This movie is more about Custer's Last Stand. Sure, a few tribes united, briefly, and wiped out a calvary regiment, but the army came back in force after that and decimated the remaining resistance. No, this movie is not about hope, as some may think: it's about postponing the inevitable. You see, none of the key elements of greed, avarice, and stupidity were really resolved by the end of the story, so there is no reason to assume that the humans won't be back in greater numbers. And how the heck did that guy learn so much of an alien language in just three months??? And why is it that aliens, to show happiness, smile, and to show affections, kiss, just like humans? Is it a movie worth seeing? Certainly, yes. Enjoy. It's fun. Just don't worry too much about the story. This will be the future of movies for a long time to come. |
| Talking with Japanese housewives is always a study in the mistakes husbands make: 1) Husbands sitting on the couch watching a baseball game on their day off should never demand their wife, rushing out the door because she's late for her English lesson, make him a ham and cheese sandwich. 2) Husbands should never criticize the taste of a 6-dish meal. (I am still blown away that this is acceptable behavior in Japan. "It's honest." "Yeah, well lie a little, you lazy bastard.") 3) Husbands really shouldn't leave the door open when they are taking a piss. 4) Husbands should help with the housework (and this is key, even for the housewives) even if their wife criticizes the way it is done; keep at it, take some advice, and eventually she won't say you're doing it wrong. 5) Husbands should not, under any circumstances, play a video game involving some sort of virtual girlfriend. This is just tacky and way too creepy. 6) Husbands (and wives) really should find one reason every day to compliment their partner. 7) Husbands: Notice she got a haircut; err on the side of caution. If you say: "Nice haircut," and she didn't get a haircut recently, she will still feel better. 8) People who do not cook should never complain if two meals in a row have similar food. Again, let me repeat: You are a lazy bastard if you do this. 9) Husbands: Remember, housework is a full-time job without pay, benefits, or pension, and every day is full of overtime with no one to talk to and no career development. Remember that. |
| This week is my turn to be the crossing guard for our neighborhood. This basically amounts to me meeting the other kids at their gathering point, counting the children, making sure that everyone is present, accounting for kids who've called in to say they won't be coming, and then walking with the kids part of the way to school (which is just across the street, luckily). It's no problem, and it's nice in a way: it keeps me in touch with the local kids, gives them a chance to remember I'm part of the community. Standing there, watching these children smile or giggle at me, son standing sheepishly by a little embarrassed by his "stand-out" father, and feeling the mentally-handicapped child put his hand in mine in a friendly way, I can't help but be reminded of a poem by Tennyson, I think it was, where this old man, Minster of Education, is touring a childrens' classroom, wondering what the children see when they look at him, wondering if they see his passionate trysts with a woman of royalty when they were both younger and the blood flowed hotter. Do these kids, in there prim uniforms and yellow caps, see what is in their midst? I, who have been thief, cheat, and liar, seen curbings, skateboards to the face, beatings, and far too much domestic abuse; I who have drunkard and dealer; who has branded himself to stop the inner voices for a time; who have seen too many hospital ER's with loved ones fearing to say goodbye; I have seen the smoldering looks some of your mothers have cast my way, for I know I am a passably handsome man, and exotic, too. Do these children see what they are smiling at? I hope not. And then I think how full of myself I am. I think of the thousands of Ugandan children abducted and forced into "soldiery," to kill, rape, and loot, all for some "higher" ideals. I think of the children of Nicaragua killed by police who targeted them as "armed robbers." I think of homeless children in Washington D.C., eating garbage and selling their bodies for just a little more "life". I have read too many studies of child abuse and isolation in my studies of feral children. My mind reels through the horrors, for there are so many more, and my little bits of infamy are reduced to insignificance. I catch the eye of son. He's looking at me in a funny way. He's seen me space-out so many times, but I've never been able to--never wanted to--explain what it is I was thinking about; my thoughts run far and dark too often. He smirks and shakes his head as if to say, "Snap out of it, papa. Everyone will see you." He is so beautiful. I shake myself and smile back at him. The handicapped child holding my hand looks up at me and laughs as he says, "HI!" We set off for school, me holding a little yellow flag and shuttling the kids to one side to allow bicycles to pass. I wave goodbye to son as he enters the school gates, and bow to the superintendent standing there greeting his charges. And so we guard these children little by little from what we humans have done and that of which we are capable, until they cross over into a time when they can guard themselves. |
| Yesterday was Monday, and it was a good day. My first day off on my new schedule, and that meant I had all day to work on a couple of articles, do housework, cook dinner, pick up son, help him with his homework, and all sorts of other little things. It was a good day because I was able to catch up on many projects, and I was able to play with son: many games of Uno and video games. We had a great time, and very relaxed, even though we got everything done. These two weeks will be the busiest of the semester for wife, and our schedule is full. I will try to keep up on the blog entries. Strangest news: Just found out that Sarah Palin and I graduated from the same university. Argh! Have submitted many stories and article recently, trying to be productive. We shall see. Currently watching episodes of my favorite SF series, "Farscape". Not much else to report. Japan is quiet. Very quiet. With New Years coming up, people are buckling down and cleaning their houses thoroughly--even I am trying to get a few of the nooks and crannies cleaned up ahead of time. |
| Another fight this morning with son. Communication is difficult. Everything was going fine until just before we leave, when he said something about "until 5". I asked him to repeat it. He got angry, said I don't listen to him. "No, I was listening, but my Japanese is bad, you know that. Repeat it." "No. You don't listen to me. I hate it. Listen to me. Listen to me!" "I am listening to you, but I couldn't understand." "No. You didn't." On and on in this vein until I told him that as a child, he needs to listen to adults, and not everything he has to say is so important, and to be patient if someone doesn't hear you. He wouldn't leave, though, and the rest of the kids were waiting for him to go to school. More fighting at the door as he refused to leave. Finally, he did, sad, on the verge of tears, his father standing behind, looking gruff but inside breaking up with sadness and regret. When do I have time to study? Work, write, work, clean--that's all I do. |
| Yes, in Japan we wash our garbage. Forgot how strange that might seem. Before throwing away plastic or styrofoam containers, we first wash all the food and stuff off of them. The styrofoam we take to the recycling bin, and the plastics are separated from the burnable. In Japan, people are very meticulous when it comes to properly separating garbage, and failure to do so is viewed as an affront to the neighborhood's harmony. So, when I do dishes, I also wash the garbage. Yesterday was son's "marathon" race at school. Pretty long distance for first graders: once around their track, then twice around the school, then a final lap around the track. Son had been nervous all morning prior. He has been the fastest in his class for some time now, but that didn't stop him from being nervous about the race. We advised him to pace himself, stay in second most of the way and then pull ahead--momma and papa used to be star high school athletes, so we felt we knew what we were talking about. Well, come the starting gun, son just pulls ahead...and keeps going. By the end of the first lap around the school, there was about 200 feet between him and the nearest kid. He just kept that lead, easily, until the finish, when he engaged his "rasto spatto" (Japanese borrowed word meaning "last spurt") and set all the parents to saying "sugoi!" (great!). Myself, I've lost my stride. Falling way behind in projects. Need that rasto spatto. |
| You know you've been in Japan too long when you hurry after work to pick up the kid at 7:30pm, hurry home, eat dinner one handed while the other hand helps the kid with his homework, hurry into the bath, hurry to wash the dishes and realize, yes, you've WASHED THE GARBAGE, which is normal, by the way. |
| Really sorry to everyone for not keeping up with this recently. Have considered retiring this blog, but am going to keep forward with it, even though the posts may not be so interesting as they had been before. So, what is happening? Well, the business has stabilized, and there's some promising signs. The changes I made seem to have had a positive effect, but the money is still very, very tight. Don't know how we're going to afford the last two semesters of wife's university. Got stopped by the cops a few nights back for riding without a bicycle light. I feigned general ignorance of the language, and, thankfully, they were the friendly type and they let me go with a verbal warning. Son is doing well. The fastest runner around for his age. Doing okay in school. Fridays we have the afternoon together, and that's been nice. Starting this month, I'll be home on Monday nights, so we'll have a little more time together then, but Sunday mornings are gone thanks to my completely self-serving employers. Writing continues. Working on three projects right now, and have sent out a lot of things to be published. Really have to focus on this, or I'll start convincing myself (again) that I don't have a chance in the world of making it as a writer. That's the problem of studying literature at university: I know the life stories of most famous writers, and I know just how terrible many of their lives were, and how most of them died unknown and broke. Maybe it is better not to know much about other writer's lives if you want to pursue writing? Have to finish a couple travel articles today, though I am totally not interested in their subjects. Writing little articles for little money to make a little money for Christmas (which reminds me: gotta get my online Christmas shopping done). Current angst: Palin supporters as clueless as Palin and oh-so representative of the anti-intellectual mentality that drove me out of the States. |
| ...that makes all the bad days worth it. Last Friday son was home and wife was at school. In the morning we slept late, had breakfast and played. We then did homework, and he did his book-reading essay by himself for the first time, while I sat next to him working on one of my own essays. As a reward for doing his homework, we walked to the book store and he browsed all the joke books (he loves joke books), and then went to the supermarket to get him a snack and some food for lunch. We ate an easy lunch and then played some more. After that, I took him to work with me, and he could watch a couple episodes of his now favorite tv show on the computer while I taught this old lady English. Back to home to relax, watch a little more TV, laugh and joke, and then off to gymnastics class, and then home for dinner. We didn't have on fight all day, and we had lots of fun. His mother was so happy he did his homework by himself. We played lots of games of Uno that night and joked around. It was a good day; the kind of day that makes all the other bad days fade into nothing. ________________________________________________________________ The only bad part of this day was the old lady I taught English. She met son for the first time that day, though she's known about him for many years. Once she got past commenting on how cute he was, she asked, "Can he speak Japanese?" "Well, he is Japanese." "Oh, yes," she said, showing surprise. "He was born here." "So, he can speak Japanese pretty good?" "Well, he is Japanese. He grew up in this town." "So, he can speak English and Japanese?" "Not really. He is Japanese. He grew up here. He speaks Japanese because everyone around him does. No one except me speaks English, so he speaks very little English." Aside from his white skin and light brown hair, B*tch, he's about as Japanese as you can get. But you still can't see past skin color, can you? Right now, I hate that I have to take your money, but that kid needs food. |
| The morning starts well, with playful tickling to greet the son and gentle imprecations to wake up, eat breakfast and get dressed for school. Mom is there to help, but must hurry to school before son does. Everything is going well, until she leaves and the communication barrier slams down in her absence. Something is missing, and I can't tell what it is. Something he forgot. Papa is stupid. Papa doesn't listen. We are late. Don't worry. I will find it and bring it to school. What? I don't know. Papa is stupid. Stop saying that! Screaming ensues, crying follows. Separate rooms. Cool off. Get things together. Comfort. Everyone has already left for school by the time we get out the door, so I walk him to school. It is so cold, he says. In Japan, schools don't have heat in the rooms, even in winter, and the kids wear shorts: it's their uniform. To develop their tolerance. I am cold. I am sorry. I can't put more clothes on you, It's against the rules. I am miserable with the feelings of powerless and inadequacy. Son of mine, what do you see when you look at me? How do I hide my face? Is my being here really helping you? |
| Son was down with the flu for a few days, since last Thursday. Doctor told him to stay home for one week--a good thing, because his class was canceled for one week as well, after 10 kids caught the flu. So he's been home, and we've been together, and I've been enjoying that, though it means a real drop in productivity (and when did I become so interested in productivity is a really important question). It has been stressful in terms of getting him to do homework (the teacher called parents to specifically remind them not to let the children get lazy while home). Of course, I can't help him enough with the homework because, frankly, I'm an idiot and can't read (his opinion, I'm sure), so all that falls to another person in the house who, stressed by university, is stressing even more because son does not want to do his homework. To get him to do his daily essay, I made a point card: for every essay he finishes, he gets one stamp on his point card, good for 15 minutes of Playstation. I have no idea how this will turn out, but it seemed to help a little. Yelling hasn't worked. Depression has hit again. Hate being in this culture and scared I might die here. And though wife and son are here every day, I am feeling very isolated and lonely. I have no friends. I speak my native tongue maybe 1 hour a week. Relations between husbands and wives are extremely distant and cold here (it seems), and focus mostly on the every day business of schedules, money, and getting children to study--there is no such thing as romance, even my neighbor agreed (and he grew up expecting this, I didn't). Adding to this is the total absence of a career, a failing business, stagnant economy, and standing on the knife edge financially. I am so damn tired of being poor--been poor all my life (though, yes, I understand that "poor" is a relative term--just having a computer means I'm not poor, but I think I know what I mean). All I have is writing and son--and somehow those two are so inextricably linked in my mind. Afraid I'm going to do something stupid one of these days, to break myself out of this rut, and that's going to make an idiot of me once again. Maybe that is getting back to normal for me. |
| I have been very slack recently with the entries. A couple reasons for that: 1) Son and I have been getting on moderately well these last couple days. Outside of the usual misunderstandings, we've been have a good time; also, we just haven't had much time together, which sucks. 2) Been busy. Business is failing, so I have to gear up and try to save it. 3) Been writing a lot, so daily blog entries moved way down on the to-do list. For all of you who are reading these, I do apologize. I will try to keep things interesting as soon as I can. |
| A few days ago, I took son to the bike shop to buy him a helmet for his birthday. Wife came with us. The old man running the place greeted us nice enough, but when I brought the helmet to the counter and said in Japanese that we would like it, he looked at my wife and said, in Japanese, "Will that be all?" "Yes," I said, staying in Japanese and trying to catch his eye. Through the whole transaction, whenever he had to say something or ask a question, no matter what I said, he looked at my wife. Nothing wrong with my Japanese, I was pretty sure. Even when I gave him the money and he gave back the change, he looked at my wife, not at me, and said, "Thank you." See this, son, but don't let it make you bitter. There will always be some people who can't see past your skin. |
| November 2, 2009 (Japan) Don't think I've felt this panicky since I realized just how much money I owed the government for my student loans: couldn't sleep last night, up at 4 a.m. working, trying to think of ways to salvage the business and keep my family going. Work at the company, Nova, did not go well last Saturday. Arrived to find a note saying the parent company had sold a majority stock to some other company (a food service company), but that "we shouldn't worry." Well, I'm worried. This kind of sh*t happens when companies are scrambling for funds, and when another company takes it over, that new one is always looking for ways to cut costs. I'm betting our branch, as unprofitable as it is, is high on a list of those needing cut. Also, they've started letting kids and adults attend special events together, and this is a nightmare because the kids can't speak English and the adults don't have a chance to, totally undermining all learning opportunities and eroding our last element of professionalism. I am afraid they are going to close the branch. If they do, I can't support my family. And my own students have been dwindling. Wife is trying not to panic. I'm trying to not show my panic. I have a couple ideas I'm going to propose to some local schools--at this point, I'm willing to work full time for someone else, just so long as I can keep my own school going. There's got to be a way out of this mess. Living out here in the countryside, there's just no work. Sorry this is so depressing for readers, but this is the way it goes here in Japan sometimes. I need work. |
| October 31, 1999 (Illinois) Halloween, and I'm sitting at home. C**** left this morning. It was very nice to have her here. But, perhaps, I'm too independent. When she asked if I really needed her, I wasn't sure of the answer. I'm not sure I need anything. But maybe she can teach me how? Her or somebody. How can I need someone when they need so much from me and have seemingly so little left to give? Is this too selfish? To be concerned with my own happiness? Impossible to articulate these concerns to myself, it seems. How can I tell them to her? Why'd she have to do this to me? Went to dinner, a movie ("Bringing out the Dead"), but mostly just relaxed at home. It's obvious she wants to move back in. I tried to be as natural and honest as I could with her, so maybe she's got a little less nostalgic view of me. Don't know. This isn't as hellish as the separation, but it my, in whatever end, be more disastrous. ----------------------------------------------------------- October 30, 2007 (Japan) Two days since the company locked the doors. Three months since I've received a paycheck. To say that wife is panicky is to dwell is understatement. Thousands of workers are jobless. No set lines of communication. Message boards on all Japan-related sites are full of people asking questions, but no one has answers. Some people are stuck here without any way of getting back to their home countries. Luckily, I managed to get some of the students together, and have already started teaching them. That's brought in a little money. Mike said he could get me some work soon ministering weddings at $150 a pop, and that will help. I'm trying not to panic, cause it won't do any good. This could be a great opportunity, or it could be a disaster. Just depends on how you look at it, I guess. I know how wife is looking at it. ----------------------------------------------------------- October 31, 2009 (Japan) Rough day yesterday in terms of emotions, but great day in terms of son's birthday. Called mom in the morning to wish her happy birthday, too. She got the flowers, and the other gifts are on the way, I told her. Went to pet story to buy turtle for son, but found that this one would grow too large for the space we have, and so have postponed the purchase until wife and I can discuss further. Still, I decorated the apartment with balloons and banners, and got a few cool gifts together, so that when we finally did get home after birthday cake at grandparents', son was smiling at the every gift and the decorations. "Kyou tanoshikatta" (today was fun!) he said. So, there's a little victory. Bad news is that more students have bailed on me--not due to bad service, just transfers and a dull economy. But money is tighter than ever. Don't know how to tell wife, so I'm not. Very depressed yesterday. Don't really know what we're going to do if the school continues to shrink. Guess I better start putting out feelers to the other local schools to see if they need a full- or part-time teacher. That sucks so bad. Well, there was no guarantee this was going to work, was there? Argh. Scrambling. Depressed. Frustrated. And a bit scared. |
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