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The shape of the world

September 2001

Dear friends,

Even in this little corner of Shikoku, it's been an extraordinary few weeks. The shape of the world has changed in so many ways.

I think you've all heard enough about the terrorist incidents in America. I don't have much to say about that - for the moment I am still listening, but I did write some poetry about it last week.

There's something about haiku that really appeals to me. Simplicity of form, maybe. It happens that Matsuyama, a city about one hundred clicks away from me on the western cost of Shikoku, is famous for having nurtured the most famous haiku masters of Japanese history. My poetry is hardly masterful, but this is how I tried to reach out to my friends here in Tokushima and elsewhere.

The autumn sunshine
Glittering for one moment
Falling in the next

This sudden winter
Cold sweeping over the world
In my heart and yours

Today is tragic
Tomorrow belongs to us
Help me to believe

My first day at school on September 1 was short. The opening ceremony saw me introducing myself in bad Japanese that nevertheless earnt a round of appaluse, and otherwise involved a lot of standing, bowing and sitting. The day's business was done by eleven o'clock. So my first real day at school was the following Monday when I was welcomed by the very genki crew at Zentoku elementary school.

That was a fun day - the staff and kids at Zentoku are great. In fact, the people at all of my schools are much the same. By the end of my first day, however, I had been roped into coaching athletics. The next day, at the junior high, I was drilling the girls volleyball team. Wasn't it bad enough that I was brought to Japan to teach a subject I have never seriously studied? Now I am coaching sports in which I have no claim to fame. Go figure. :)

Of course, these are the sorts of things I am glad to do. My job isn't just to talk the talk in classrooms, but to bring a fresh perspective to the way kids think about the world and get involved in the life of my wider community. I haven't had much chance to teach, anyway, for it's been a strange fortnight at school. This time of year sees many festivals in the school calendar and many hours of class time have been devoted to preparation and practice. It hasn't exactly given me a chance to settle in, but it's been interesting.

Take the undookai, for example. I was told that it would be a sports day, so I thought athletics carnival. You know, students sprinting, jumping and throwing, teachers shouting, timing and recording, and parents standing by dreaming of the day their child will stand on an Olympic podium? To my pleasant surprise, I instead got four-legged races, obstacle courses, tug-of-war, dancing, and a silly race where you push a tire rim along with a stick. It was more like a village party than a sports day. Assorted little prizes were handed out all over the place, and parents, students and babies were all equally involved. And me, still not really sure where I fit in, but enjoying the moment anyway, even when I was struggling to roll that tire rim for more than a metre. Bloody tire rim. :)

There are three basic levels of education in Japan before university. Shoogaku is elementary school for children aged 6 to 12 years old, with six grades. Chuugaku is the next three grades along, whilst kookoo is yet another three grades - junior high and senior high respectively. The equivalent of kindergarten is yoochien, whilst university is called daigaku. There are also a range of other college options and agricultural and technical schools. I work with shoogaku and chuugaku students, and once every couple of weeks with yoochien. Between four elementary schools and one junior high school, I have some 80 students. Within an hour's drive there are JETs who have that many kids in three classes. My situation is quite unique, I think, and I love it.

I already find that shoogaku visits can be tiring, especially when I work with kindergarten classes. They demand so much attention, and yet their attention span is short. People who do it every day have nothing but my respect! By a bit of trial and error, I am slowly coming to terms with planning lessons and finding out what works and what does not. Australian money, for example, is great stuff - not only can it be used as stimulus for counting, it doesn't tear and is fascinating to kids! Yay for plastic money!

Outside the classroom, I'm growing more accustomed to Nishiiya and its people. I discovered, quite by chance, that all the local people of my age (you can count them on your fingers and toes) play baseball together each week. So now I have a baseball glove and am looking forward to playing a game on my birthday this September 29. It happens that I share my birthday with a little girl at Zentoku named Hidemi. There is also a 23-year-old teacher at the shoogaku in Awashi. It's nice to finally be finding a local group of people with whom I have something in common.

There is also a couple who own a good restaurant on the other side of the mountain. Having been to the Woody Rest a couple of times for a meal, I'm now very welcome there, which is great. Satsuko and Nobu are fine hosts, they speak a little English and they are very JET friendly.

I first met them recently when I visited Chiiori, a traditional house in the Iya Valley owned by two westerners, Alex Kerr and Mason Florence. Both men are well known in this part of Shikoku, particularly Alex, who is an author of some renown. Chiiori is a beautifully restored thatched cottage. The story of its restoration is part of an ongoing project to save the Iya Valley from depopulation on one hand and urbanisation on the other. But that's another story...

That particular night at Chiiori was blessed by the company of a man from New Orleans named Jeff. He owns a restaurant in Hanoi and can cook a mean cajun meal, which he duly proved to us over several super courses. Besides for being a top chef, he studied marine biology at James Cook University in Townsville for five years. Having a mutual interest in biotechnology research and in Queensland, he ended up asking who my supervisor was. Sure enough, he recognised Lars Nielsen's name from a recent radio broadcast on bioethics. Truly a small world!

The world seemed smaller still when I received an email from Masumi Tsuchiya earlier that same day. Way back in 1995, I met Masumi in Singapore during a high school science exchange programme. Six years later, she is almost finished with her studies in medicine at a university just north of Tokyo. It was just on the spur of the moment that I wrote to her, to the old address she gave me in Singapore. How fortunate that she was holidaying at home when my letter arrived! And the World Cup of soccer is being hosted near her university next year - now I have two good reasons to travel there. :)

Before I came to Japan I was glad to be getting rid of my mobile phone. Despite myself, however, I have now got a keitai, a Japanese mobile phone. Besides for satisfying my desire for a new toy, I feel safer driving in the mountains (and soon in the snow) with a means of contact close at hand. As with most gadgets in Japan, keitais are on an entirely higher rung on the evolutionary ladder than phones elsewhere in the world. WAP is only in its infancy in Australia but is a standard feature here. Some of the newest phones even have digital cameras. Not mine, mind you. Not yet. :)

When I haven't been playing with my phone, I have found out that the nearest place I can swing dance is in Osaka. Maybe I will be desperate enough for something to do in the winter that I will travel for 4 hours for a good dance, but for now I will have to settle for solo shuffling in the kitchen at home. Or perhaps I really will follow through on teaching the locals to swing. Yet another distraction from teaching English. :)

In the meantime, there is shopping in Kawanoe, rafting in the Oboke canyon, volleyball with the Parents and Teachers Association, and baseball with the younger generation to keep me busy. I'd better make time to study some Japanese, too! I hope this missive finds you all just as busy and happy, wherever you are.

Mata raigetsu - see you next month, lots of love,

Dave