Kemstone's Journal

Going to the Spring Concert yesterday was one of the most correct decisions I’ve ever made. Although I didn’t feel like going at all and I was nervous about once again being the only foreigner in a crowd full of Japanese students and parents, I figured it would at least be far more of a memorable activity than whatever I would have done otherwise. It actually turned out to be a really great experience.

Weirdly enough, I actually met one of my students’ parents hours before I even left. My doorbell rang around 10:00 in the morning and I opened it to find an older, not-fully-Japanese woman standing there holding Jesus pamphlets. She greeted me in Japanese but then immediately switched to shockingly great English and told me that her daughter A- goes to my school. She recognized the name on my door because apparently A- talks about me a lot. A- is (or was) a second-grader who really stands out because of her appearance. She may be partly Japanese but she looks more Indian or Middle-Eastern. In any case, she’s really friendly and apparently her mother is as well.

The mom was going around handing out invitations to some sort of Jesus-festival thingy the Jehovah’s witnesses are holding at the beach early next month. She said she’d understand if I couldn’t come if ALTs aren’t supposed to take part in religious events, and I told her honestly that I don’t know what the rules are. She asked me if I believed in God (not a question you hear very often in Japan) and I told her I believe there’s something more to the universe than what we can see, which was good enough for her. She didn’t want to keep me long so she wished me a nice day and moved on. Although I’d be seeing many dozens more students’ parents that day, she would be the only one I’d communicate with.

It was wet and grey when I got on my bike and made my way up to Togane Hall, remembering the way there from the Chorus Contest. I debated whether to bring my camera, as I was attending this event as a private individual and therefore not subject to Interac policies, but decided against it just to play it safe. I was already going to be drawing much attention by being the only foreigner there, and who knows what ideas some parents might get about the gaijin taking photos of their kids. Although as it turned out, this concern was rather silly.

I biked up the hill to get there and was sweating bullets by the time I arrived, just another thing to draw attention to myself. I didn’t wear my suit but I didn’t want to dress too casual so I wore some khaki slacks and an un-tucked button-down shirt. When I got in to the lobby there, naturally every eye turned towards me and I could almost hear them thinking, “Who’s the gaijin and what is he doing here?” but luckily there was a group of three male students there who gave me a wave when I walked in, thus legitimizing my presence. They were third-graders, recent graduates I’d assumed I’d never see again.

The students in the band were eating lunch together beyond some glass doors leading to the entrances to the main hall. Everyone else had to wait outside the doors until 1:00 when the seating would begin. Shortly before that the students finished their lunch and started filing in to the backstage area, peaking out past the glass to see who was there. A bunch of them spotted me and waved, further legitimizing my presence. It was at this point that I realized two unexpected things—the band is much bigger than I thought it would be, and it was almost all-female. While I’d expected little more than a dozen students, the number was closer to fifty, and all but two of them were girls. Also unexpected but a much welcome surprise was that many of them were third-graders I’d thought I’d never see again.

When it finally came time to go in, I took a seat in the front row of the section just behind the orchestra seats. When M- wrote out the invitation she’d said the time was 1:00 p.m. but that was actually just the seating time. The concert started at 1:30, so there was an entire half-hour of just sitting and waiting.

But while I was sitting and waiting another group of girls came in and spotted me, about ten of them and mostly third-graders including one (yet another “A-”) whom I’d been particularly fond of and had been sad to lose forever at graduation. She’d been one of the students assigned to clean up the teacher’s room during the afternoon cleaning-time for the first half of the school-year, so I saw her every day and she tried to communicate with me more frequently than most students. She was as glad to see me again as I was to see her, and she even came up and asked to take a picture of me.

She and the other students sat in the very front of the orchestra section, where almost nobody else was sitting. For the rest of the half-hour waiting time, occasionally a few of them would look back and wave to me and giggle, especially one second-grader whom I’m fairly certain has a crush on me. At one point A- came back up to me and handed me her camera, asking me to take a video of her during a particular number, as apparently this group of girls wasn’t in the brass band but would be performing in a special piece at the start of the second half. So she left her camera with me and I pondered the irony of not having brought my own.

The second-grade A- whose mother I’d met earlier also came and walked by me, though she was just there to watch and her mother wasn’t present. But I told her in Japanese that I’d met her mother earlier, which caused a few heads to turn my way. Still, none of the other parents attempted to speak to me.

At 1:30 the school principal came to say a few words and then the concert got started. The first half was pretty basic, exactly the kind of thing I expected from a junior high school brass band concert. With Ms. S- conducting, they went through a series of short classical music pieces, none of which I recognized. It wasn’t the London Symphony Orchestra or anything, but they were okay. One student or another would often mess up and you’d hear a spectacularly wrong note here and there, but for the most part they sounded pretty good. Probably better than most American middle-school bands sound, as I imagine these kids are a bit more dedicated.

There was a ten-minute break, and then the second-half started with something completely different. The students had changed out of their school uniforms and into jeans and matching T-shirts, such a radically different appearance than what I’m used to, and the group of ten girls who’d been seated during the first half were now joining the others on stage for a piece called “Joyful Joyful”. It started with a couple of those girls singing solos, and while I think it was an English song I couldn’t really be sure because their pronunciation was severely distorted. I was recording the whole number for A-, and when the first half of the song was finished it became a much faster dance number, with A- as one of the two lead dancers. One of the third-grade boys showed up on stage dressed in a ridiculous costume like a sorcerer and did a rap which also may or may not have been in English.

The rest of the second half was somewhat more traditional but still much faster and more fun than the first half. I couldn’t believe how much work and thought had been put into the show. Students were frequently going off to change into different costumes and do little performances in between and during songs. None of it was comprehensible to me but it was definitely entertaining. They even had a couple of kids in full-on character-suits like those guys at Disney Land, but with Japanese characters from cartoon kids’ shows. At one point the principal even came out in a cheesy samurai costume and sang a little solo. That in itself would have been worth the price of admission (by which I mean time, as the concert was free).

Then things took a turn for the very sad near the end, as Ms. S- took the microphone and while some of the students played some light music in the background, she called all of the departing third-graders to the front of the stage, and they were all given flowers and took a bow one by one. Just like at graduation, there were tears in some of their eyes. So once again I got to contemplate how I’d probably never see these people again, though it was different this time because now I was seeing a bunch of people again that I’d thought two weeks ago I never would. They may not be a part of my school and therefore a part of my active life anymore, they’re still around. I occasionally spot students out and about, and while the odds of my seeing any one particular student again are very slim, the odds are good that I’ll at least see some of them around.

After those goodbyes there was one more piece with instruments, and then all of the students stood in a line in the front of the stage to sing one last song. Moving my eyes from student to student I considered whether this was the last time I’d ever see them or if I’d have another year or two before the final end. At least now I know that next year, for these second-graders, the actual last goodbye won’t be graduation but the Spring Concert.

On my way out of the main hall I was greeted by Mrs. T-, who was there with her two little daughters, one girl of about 3 and another in her arms about 1. It was very strange to see her in the role of mother. I’ve spent the better part of a year working alongside her and I’ve never seen her in that context before.

Just like after concerts and plays in my school-days, all of the students who’d performed were lined up outside the main hall on the way out the door. I was quite happy about that, as this gave me the perfect opportunity to go right down the line and greet all of them personally, as well as say my actual last goodbyes to the third-graders I hadn’t had a chance to at graduation.

A- had come up to me right after the show to get her camera back, and both of us knew this was probably the actual end. She seemed to appreciate that fact as much as I did, as she put out her hand for me to shake before saying goodbye. I said, “It’s nice to see you” and that was that.

But with the exception of a few third-graders, going down the line after the show was a happy experience, as all of the students gave me a warm smile and thanked me for coming. I’ll see most of them again in just a few weeks.

And that was my first Spring Concert in Japan. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but once I got settled in it felt like just another school event. The show itself was surprisingly good, and I got once last chance to see some third-graders again. The chances of my going again next year are about 1000%.

This school-year just keeps ending and ending. Today is the last official day on the school-calendar, and the closing ceremony just wrapped up. The students are on their way home, and the teachers are remaining behind to start doing whatever the heck it is they do between school-years, as they’ll be here during the break as well. I’ve got to stay until lunch, and then I can leave and consider my work for this school-year over.

But it just feels like one more ending in a never-ending series of endings that started with the third-graders’ graduation two weeks ago. I’ve even got something school-related tomorrow, though it’s entirely optional on my part. A few weeks ago, M- from the Speech Contest (the one who was robbed of a much-deserved victory) gave me an invitation written out in English to come see the JHS Brass Band perform a concert at the same hall where the Chorus Contest was held. It’s tomorrow at 1:00, and although I’m under no obligation whatsoever I still fully intend to go. She put an effort into making that invitation and I’ve got nothing else to do so I might as well go and make that the last I see of the students this year (at least those who are in the brass band). That’ll be another ending, but still not the very last one.

I found out yesterday that the enkai that took place after graduation was just the first of two year-end enkais, the next of which will be next Thursday. Next Thursday is apparently the actually actual officially official LAST day of the school-year, and there will be another ceremony in the morning that I’m not required to go to but I will. All of the students, even in the midst of their spring break, will be coming back for that one too. Which is really weird, but it’s Japan.

The enkai is after pay-day and located in Togane, and since it’s after pay-day and I won’t need a hotel room, I intend to go to both the formal party and the karaoke afterwards. It’ll be the last time I see the teachers who are switching schools next year, all of whom were featured in today’s closing ceremony, as they took the stage, students handed them flowers, and they each gave a short speech. I thought Ms. Y- would be leaving because of what she told me at the last enkai, but she wasn’t one of the teachers on the stage and I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet if the plans have changed and she’ll be sticking around next year. I sincerely hope so.

But once next Thursday’s enkai is over, the school-year will really finally be over once-and-for-all. Then I can look forward to a nice long break…of about a week and a half.

Yes, I’d assumed that the new school year wouldn’t start until the end of April, but I just found out moments ago from Mrs. T- that it actually starts the second week. That’s not much time between school-years. It’s only about the same duration as winter vacation. Now it feels even less like anything is come to an end. Just a very brief pause before getting started again.

In other news, I hung out with Trey last night. We went out for ramen then hung out at his place and watched a very entertaining History Channel documentary about catching Bin Laden. Trey and his girlfriend and some friends of theirs will be going to Tokyo for clubbing the weekend after next, so I’ll probably join them just for a good dose of night-life, and I’ll invite Stephen if I can so I can see him too.

I’m going to try and hang out with Ryan (the other Togane ALT) during the break because we haven’t seen each other in months and I’m wondering how his school-year went. As for the prospect of more socialization, I don’t think Ben and Fred like me very much so I won’t be bothering them. Jack and Lily are returning from their vacation today or tomorrow, so I’ll probably be seeing them again very soon as well.

The next big Interac training session for new ALTs is this week, and while I was invited by Cedric to participate that apparently fell through. I’m not exactly sure why, but the e-mail I got from my branch office informing me that I wouldn’t be going made it sound like they just had too many participants and there wasn’t enough space for me. I’ve considered e-mailing Cedric to ask him for more details, but he’s obviously going to be occupied all week and I assume I’ll hear from him again at some point. Maybe I’ll be able to go next year.

The construction going on next door to me appears to be almost finished, which is excellent. I thought it would be incredibly frustrating to have this going on all these months, but it’s only been three months and after what I went through in Hannover I’ve hardly found this aggravating at all. I’m not exactly sure what the reasons are, but construction workers in Japan are apparently a hundred times more efficient and productive than workers in Germany. I suspect it’s more than just cultural reasons.

And finally, I jumped to conclusions after the Yakuza shooting and said that the Denny’s it took place at would be closed forever. Well, it’s back open for business now, though it never looks too crowded when I walk by. Not that I have much of a basis of comparison because I never made it a point to look inside before, but it’s entirely possible that business is back to normal or that it will get back to normal eventually, so I didn’t lose my chance to eat there after all. But now that now that I can eat there again I still don’t really want to.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this in my journal yet, but there’s a construction project going on in the lot right next to my apartment building, just outside my window. For the first five months after I moved in it was an abandoned gas station, which made for a superbly quiet neighbor. Starting in January, however, all of that changed. The first couple of weeks were all demolition, and in addition to the loudness of the smashing, drilling, and beeping, it also felt like we were getting ten earthquakes a minute. Things at least quieted down a little bit after that as they laid out the foundation for the new building, but since they started building that a couple of weeks ago it’s gone back to constant noise.

I’d received notification of the project via a piece of paper passed through my mail-slot a couple of weeks before it began, but I hadn’t known what it was until the demolition started and I went back to give it a second look. Because the kanji for “construction” is very simple (工) I was able to tell that’s what it’s about, and because reading dates is easy I was able to discern that the project was supposed to last from January to April. I figured four months isn’t too bad, and knowing that there’s probably just one month left keeps me from losing my mind whenever I’m home. It mostly takes place while I’m at work anyway, though these guys work straight through dusk and I still hear them hammering for awhile even after it’s completely dark. I don’t begrudge them though—they’re working very hard and I want them to finish as soon as possible.

It also helps that I went through a much worse situation in Hannover. Shortly after I changed my apartment there, the building across the street from me underwent some kind of re-touching of the outside, replacing the brick exterior with solid concrete. This doesn’t seem like nearly as large a task as demolishing and constructing an entirely new building, but the project lasted almost 8 months and seemed to consist of nothing but loud and inconsistent drilling with no rhyme or reason to when it took place other than it always seemed to start up when I was attempting to take a nap. I didn’t work straight through the day then like I did now, so those 8 months were excruciating. When I returned home one day to find the scaffolding finally gone and the work complete, it felt like the happiest day of my life. So the current project is much easier to deal with.

Still, it’s a strong motivator to get out of the house for as long as possible on days off. Because Saturday was graduation, we had Monday off school. After jogging and eating lunch, I took my bike out for the standard ride to the beach. I would have gone regardless of the construction, but the construction definitely motivated me to take my time and not get home in a hurry.

Two unusual things happened on my trip. The first was an earthquake, which is certainly nothing unusual in itself but for the fact that I felt it while riding my bike. Earthquakes are much more perceptible on upper floors of buildings than they are directly on the ground, especially when you’re moving. Because tremors happen so frequently I know I must have been riding during a few, but I never knew for certain. Occasionally while riding I’d feel suddenly off-balance but I could always correct it quickly enough and I could never tell whether it was the ground, the wind, or just me naturally losing balance. This time I could feel my tires shifting with the ground, being knocked toward the side of the road. But still it wasn’t much of a big one, as I was able to maintain balance and keep riding through the remaining second of the quake.

The next thing wasn’t just unusual but downright weird. I cycled right by two cats standing on the side of the road and staring at each other. The fact that I rode right by them—two feet away at the most—and they didn’t so much as flinch, peaked my curiosity and I stopped a little bit further down the road to turn and observe them.

It was the strangest cat behavior I’ve ever seen. There was a black cat and a brown cat on some concrete blocks above a concrete gutter on the side of the road which was now filled with water thanks to the recent heavy rainfall. They were virtually immobile, their faces inches apart, staring at each other and softly growling. Every now and then the black cat would growl a little louder and advance slightly close to the brown cat, who was slowly inching away. Maybe it’s the anime I’ve been watching, but the idea popped in my head that these cats were some kind of reincarnated souls of samurai warriors now settling a score, and while the altercation wasn’t physical there was some hidden exchange of powers in the growling.

I also considered it might be some kind of omen, something I was meant to see and ponder like in a Japanese folk-tale. I could just picture a character in such a story describing this scene to his peers in an attempt to discern its meaning. As I was in no hurry, I decided to stay and watch until something happened, as perhaps there was some kind of meaning to be found here.

I watched for a good ten minutes, during which time only two cars and one cyclist came by, but the cats seemed impervious to any outside distraction. The black cat kept slowly advancing and the brown cat kept slowly backing away until they were on a thinner and higher block of concrete, at which point they suddenly pounced at each other with a loud hiss and tumbled together into the freezing cold gutter water. Together they leaped out of the water and onto the road, where they proceeded to stand completely still—like statues—for a solid two minutes. I noticed the black cat was injured, its neck was bleeding slightly, but I don’t know if that injury had been there before. Both cats stood completely still until another car came and shook them out of their stupor. The black cat then started walking away in my direction, until it noticed me and ran off. The brown cat took the spot that the two had been on before, and after waiting one additional minute I’d decided that was probably the end of the drama.

There was probably absolutely no point to that whatsoever, but perhaps it was a sign from the kami that I won’t fully understand until the meaning comes to me in a dream or something.

Anyway, I finished the journey to the beach only to find more strangeness there. A group of soldiers was up on the little look-out tower near the virtually empty parking lot. I have no idea what they were doing, but I didn’t stick around to observe them too long. I just walked some distance to a river-mouth I’ve taken to trekking to recently, as it’s a particularly lovely spot. I spent some time there, soaking in what little sun decided to peak from behind the clouds, then headed back to the parking-lot area where a new group of soldiers was heading up the tower.

There was a couple there with a tiny baby, sticking out quite sorely due to their non-Japanese appearance. The woman looked half-Japanese but the man was clearly a westerner. We couldn’t help but notice each other, and the woman and I involuntarily smiled at each other when we noticed ourselves noticing.

I figured I might as well say hello, and I asked them where they were from—France—and whether they spoke English—they did. I asked them if they had any idea what was going on with the soldiers and they said they had no idea, but lots of strange things happen in Japan.

The couple—Regis and Junko—were there for a month to visit her parents. It was their third time visiting Japan together, but Regis has lived all over Asia as a website designer. He said that Japan was definitely the best Asian country, but South Korea was pretty good too and I could make a lot more money teaching English there, almost double what I do now. It’s not that I’d never considered making Korea my next country of residence, but somehow in the midst of that conversation it felt clearer than ever that this is my next logical move.

They were a really nice couple and we had a nice chat, comparing our impressions of Japan as well as Europe. They actually knew where Hannover was but have never been to Germany because like most French people, Regis doesn’t like Germans. He’d never been to America but Junko had been to New York for a week, and we compared our impressions of that city too. She really liked it, and he wants to go too someday. They encouraged me to travel around Japan more, which I fully intend to do once I get some money saved. That could take a while, but I intend to be here for a while.

As for the soldiers, we could never figure out what they were up to, but our best guess was that it was some kind of survey taking place at the 1-year-later mark of the earthquake and tsunami, the anniversary of which was on Sunday. He remarked about how the Japanese are very strange, and I told him about the cats. “Didn’t you know that Japanese cats are stranger than normal cats?” he asked jokingly. “I didn’t before but I do now,” I told him.

After that pleasant little encounter I headed home, getting back at about five o’clock, which meant just a little over one more hour of construction noise before peace and quiet returned.

Back at school today, I’ve yet to really feel the absence of the third-graders, but I’ll be spending most of my time in the teacher’s room anyway. I have only one lesson today which is already over, and now I don’t have any more until Thursday when I only have two. It’s going to be long week with lots of time to kill, which gives me plenty of time to write detailed descriptions of the behavior of cats.

A couple of nights ago I was watching one of the last episodes of the anime series Evangelion (which turned out to be quite deep and thought-provoking) when it felt like something suddenly clicked in my brain. I’m watching the show in Japanese with English subtitles, and it was always fun to see which Japanese words I could pick out of the dialog and match to their translation on the bottom of the screen. It was usually just a handful of words here and there. But while watching this episode I noticed myself not just recognizing a few scattered words and phrases but comprehending entire sentences.

I started listening carefully to every line of dialog and pausing to read the subtitles and make sense of why these lines were translated as they are. There would generally be a few words I didn’t know, but I actually found myself understanding the majority of them. Most importantly I was able perceive the grammatical structure of the sentences and how the words and particles work together to generate their translated meaning. The interesting part was seeing how inexact the translation was, as sometimes the literal translations of the words wouldn’t correspond to the English subtitles at all, and the words on the screen were just a similar but-not-quite-identical expression. This was a bit of a rush, as now I was no longer relying exclusively on the subtitles to comprehend the meaning of the dialog, and I had a truer understanding of what these characters were actually saying than most non-Japanese anime fans ever get.

If felt like a bit of a breakthrough language-wise, like I’ve reached the next plateau of my Japanese-comprehension skills. Apparently being surrounded by the language constantly, even if you’re not always paying attention and striving to understand, really does subconsciously open the doors of comprehension.

Unrelated story—on Wednesday morning I stepped into the shower room to shave and quickly noticed that the water was not turning hot. The gas had apparently been switched off. That must have been what the letter I got yesterday that looked like a bill was about (my literacy still has a long way to go). I suffered through a freezing cold shower, then took the letter in to school to show it to Mrs. T- who confirmed that my gas had been shut off and I’d have to pay about 15,000 Yen (nearly $200) to get it turned back on. The gas company apparently doesn’t send bills with bar-codes that can be conveniently paid at convenience stores, so just like with the water bill my illiteracy led to a shut-off. Luckily, in Japan such situations are apparently not much trouble to rectify. The principal let me leave school for awhile to walk to the bank and make the payment, after which Mrs. T- faxed the receipt to the gas company who had my gas switched back on the by time I got home (at which point I’d almost forgotten it had been shut off in the first place).

But the only problem it caused was pretty much draining the rest of my bank account for the month. Whenever I get paid I keep what I think I’ll need for the month in my Japanese account and send the rest to my American bank account because that’s the only way I can pay my credit card bill, which currently has a substantial balance thanks to two recent plane-ticket purchases. Thanks to the unexpected half a years’ worth of gas all-at-once payment, I was down to almost nothing. Luckily I can rely on my parents to deposit money in my account to help me make it to payday, and I can pay them back the next time I see them.

Yesterday was graduation day for the third-graders at school, and afterwards there were two parties for the faculty. The first was a normal enkai like the ones after the Chorus Contest and before Christmas break, and the second was a less formal affair at a karaoke bar. Those who would be doing karaoke would not be driving home that night but staying at the hotel where the enkai was. I was still pretty sad about the third-graders leaving so I didn’t feel like partying at all, but I figured this is the kind of cultural experience I shouldn’t be turning down. However, the cost of the enkai was 7,000 yen (close to $100) and the cost of a bed at the hotel was another 7,000 yen. The price of karaoke would be pretty substantial as well. I was still on the fence in the morning when I stopped at the 7/11 to extract my party-money from the ATM, but I checked the balance of my American account online first and saw that my parents had not yet deposited the emergency money. I could afford the enkai but not the karaoke, so I decided to do that. I could have called my parents and asked for even more money but I figured since I wasn’t too enthusiastic about going anyway I might as well just call it fate.

The graduation ceremony itself was just as sad as I expected. The weather, like it was for the entire week, was cold and rainy, and it was freezing in the gym even with two heat-blasting fans running constantly on each side of the room. This whole March-graduation thing just isn’t natural. The end of the school-year is supposed to be warm and beautiful.

The first- and second-graders filed in first while the parents of the graduates slowly trickled in. When everyone was seated the third-graders entered two-by-two to a recording of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, one of my favorite pieces of classical music. My heart-strings were already being tugged as I watched them enter, but I knew it would be several hours before they would leave.

There were quite a few speeches made, not just by the principal and vice principals but by members of the board of education and PTA (which in Japan is actually called the “PTA”) and I managed to avoid utter boredom by putting my Japanese-comprehension skills to the test and trying to translate as much as I could. Comprehension is not nearly as easy when you’ve got English subtitles already guiding the way, but I was pleased to discover I understood a lot more than I assumed I could. It also helped to know the context of the speeches. There was a lot of talk about the future (mirai), entering a “new world” (atarashi sekai) and whatnot. The word kibishi, which means “strict” popped up in nearly every speech, so I assumed they were explaining the value of their education-style. Of course the most frequently-used word was rei, meaning “bow”, which the students were ordered to do when every new speaker took the podium.

The speakers were seated in an “honored guest” section to the left of and facing the graduates, directly across from the faculty seating section where I stayed most of the time. Parents were seated behind the graduates, followed by first-graders and then second-graders in the back. Everyone was in their school-uniforms—no caps and gowns apparently—but some of the third-grade teachers were dressed in traditional Japanese clothing that looked like what geishas and samurais wear.

After the speeches, the first and second graders sang one of their songs, then the third graders turned around to face their parents and sing one of theirs. They then took the stage and sang one final song before walking two-by-two through the split in the seats to the back of the gym and out the door, their final exit as the first- and second-graders sang a very sad song. I stood by the exit and watched them all go, and this was by far the most emotional moment of the day. Some of the students—mostly the “cool” boys—had smiles on their faces, but many of the students, both girls and boys, had tears in their eyes. A few were outright bawling.

It made me think back to my middle-school graduation and what it felt like once the reality of this absolute ending finally started to hit just before the ceremony. I understood exactly what those kids were going through—once they walked out that door it would be over. Done. Finished. Nothing but memories lodged firmly in the inaccessible past. Damn this universe and its temporal mechanics.

One of the two final students to leave was the girl who had been crying hysterically at the Chorus Contest (the one who won the best conductor award), and as she turned around to face the gym one last time and take the ceremonial final bow it looked like tears actually leaped from her eyes at that instant. It was as appropriate a final image of this group of third-graders as I could have hoped for, I guess.

As for me, my eyes were moist but I never completely lost it. I nearly did when the last girl took that final bow, but I held it together. After that things got kind of hectic as the first-graders left to take their chairs back to their classrooms and the second-graders were instructed to get the auditorium back in order.

A set of parents came up to me, asked me in Japanese if I was “Kyle-sensei” and I said hai. They told me who their daughter was, I made clear that I recognized the name, and they thanked me for giving her that CD. I gave them a nice “your welcome” (dou itashimashite) and that was that. Apparently one girl was so grateful that she expressed it to her parents who were so taken by her gratitude that they felt obliged to express their gratitude to me. That alone makes the entire CD-burning thing worth it.

Only one other set of parents approached me. The parents of A- from the Speech Contest whom I’d met there. They thanked me for helping their daughter win second-place and I thanked them for thanking me. Later I came to wish I had told them how smart and wonderful I think their daughter is, which I could have done in Japanese, but I just didn’t think of it at the time. I’ll probably regret that forever because I’ll probably never see A- again, but so it goes. I’d assumed there’d be more student-parent-teacher mingling after the ceremony and I’d be able to say my most significant goodbyes then, but that was not to be. I’ll know better next time.

I helped the second-graders pack the chairs away, simultaneously thanking my lucky stars that I get to spend another year with them and dreading the gut-wrenching experience it will be when I have to watch them walk two-by-two out the gym doors next year. Because first-grade lessons are not every week and the third-grade lessons tapered off that the end, I’m already more familiar with them than the rest of the school. I don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself during that silent sayonara.

But life goes on, as did the day. I spent the afternoon in the teacher’s room reading old journals and reflecting on all the ways in which life changes and how it stays the same, then went home at 4:15 to put my stuff away. On the way out there was a group of about twelve third-graders hanging outside the gates of the school taking final pictures of their group of friends in front of the school, and they asked me to get in some of their shots. That was nice, and it was to be the last interaction I’ll ever have with that class of students at the school.

I returned to the school at 5:00 to hitch a ride to the hotel where the enkai was at, a hotel near the beach about 35-minutes away.

This was much more of a traditional Japanese-affair than the Christmas enkai, so I’m glad I brought my camera. It looked almost exactly like the enkai after the Chorus Contest with the tatami mats and traditional Japanese cuisine spread out over two long tables. It was easy to see why the cost was so high—this was quality cuisine. And as intimidating as it looked, most of it was rather delicious.

As usual, the party began with the pouring of drinks and the kampai, then about an hour of just eating, drinking, and mingling. This is when I got the most traction of my newfound Japanese confidence, as I was able to communicate more effectively than ever with my Japanese colleagues in Japanese. Of course, Ms. Y- was seated next to me and there to help if help was needed, but we didn’t need it very often. I was able to discuss things like the differences in climate between Chiba and New York, my impressions of the graduation ceremony (kanashi to samui: “sad and cold”) and even my reasons for not eating beef or pork.

Half-way through the party, every third-grade teacher was invited up to give a short speech. They talked too informally and quickly for me to really understand, but one of the teachers broke into tears while speaking and apologized for losing her composure. It was a touching moment, and at least confirmed that even teachers who’ve been doing this for years can still have trouble letting go.

At one point one of the vice principals came up to me and with the help of Ms. Y- ask me what I thought of graduation and how I was finding life in Japan. After I answered him completely in Japanese, he said to Ms. Y- that he “hopes all Americans are like me”. I thanked him sincerely for that. It might just be the nicest compliment I’ve received from a superior since my school-days.

Speaking of which, one of the thoughts that occurred to me yesterday while I had the entire concept of junior high school on the brain is just how outstanding a time of my life that chapter was for me. I started middle-school as a new student in a K-8 school, and my excessive honesty (telling people I’d rather be a girl than a boy) instantly cast me down to the bottom of the social ladder, as unpopular as one could possibly be. But slowly and gradually over the course of three years the other students started accepting me just because of the force of my personality. By the end of my third-year I was on top my whole little world, known to everyone due my starring role in the school play, and chosen Distinguished Student of the Year. When I was called to receive my award in the final assembly I was greeted by wild cheering from the entire school. It was one of the most triumphant times of my life.

It’s no wonder I’m so attached to these kids. This past year has got me seriously thinking about becoming a middle-school teacher in America, or at least an English-speaking country where I’ll be able to really communicate with and thus have more of an impact on the kids. I still want to live in more parts of the globe first, but it’s definitely a life I can envision for myself, now more than ever before. Kind of funny how life works out like that—when you asked me in middle-school what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have said “middle-school teacher.”

At the end of the enkai we all stood up and sang the school song, which I hummed along to now that I know the melody. I’d like to learn the words though, and I asked Ms. Y- if she could write them down for me to study, which she agreed to. Incidentally, she’s been at this school for 8 years, so she has to be moved to a different one next year. That sucks because I really like her and she’s a great partner in the classroom, so there’s another farewell to look forward to. She was very intrigued when I explained how teachers in America remain at the same school for their entire lives.

The party ended and I was driven home by a teacher who speaks no English whatsoever, but when we got near the school I was able to give him directions to my apartment in Japanese and he dropped me off. As I went inside I knew I was missing an interesting karaoke experience, but it also felt appropriate to be alone with my thoughts.

I was significantly sad, but this afternoon the sun came out and I went for a jog and a bike-ride, just being in the moment.  All moments end and you never get them back, but the fact that you can’t is what makes them beautiful.

The school-year never raced by so quickly when I was a student. Granted I started teaching a third of the way through, but it feels like September was just a few weeks ago. I was just getting familiar with the third-graders but now they’re all about to leave.

In Japan, not only does the school-year end in March but it ends earlier for graduating students than others. The graduation ceremony for the third-graders is tomorrow, but the first- and second-graders still have another two weeks to go. After tomorrow, an entire third of the school’s population will have just disappeared.

This is something I’m going to have to get used to as a teacher. You meet hundreds of kids, get to know some of them to some degree, grow pretty fond of a few, and then they go away and you never see or hear from them again. It almost makes me want to write to some of my middle-school teachers just to be the exception.

My third-grade lessons just kind of petered off and died in the last couple of weeks. The schedule got shifted around due to the year-end exams and a bunch of lessons were cancelled so there were some classes I literally didn’t see for a month and never had a “last lesson” with. Of the few I had, I was usually just doing a game for half the class because the JTEs wanted time for test-preparation. At the beginning of this week I found out that the third-graders would be doing pretty much nothing but graduation-practice all week and there would be no more lessons with them. A double-pity, as not only would I not get the closure of a final lesson in the awareness of it being the final lesson, but the game I spent a great deal of time preparing will just have to be shelved until the end of next year.

But sentimental schmuck that I am, I just had to have my last goodbyes. I thought about writing a little note to each third-grader but there being 204 of them, most of whom I’m still not that familiar with, that would be far too difficult. I went to a 100-yen shop (like a dollar-store) in search of some cheap little present I could buy in bulk and give to all the students with a spoken goodbye, but there was nothing that fit the bill. The only bulk-present that seems to work is a CD like I made the students for Christmas. So I decided to do that again. I picked up another load of blank CDs and spent two days and nights pretty much burning continuously. I went in a different direction with the song-selection this time, as instead of just picking things I’m particularly fond of I went with more happy dance-type music. I realized that the first CD was largely made up of very depressing songs, so I wanted to correct that imbalance a little and give the students something they’re more likely to enjoy.

The problem was finding time to actually distribute the things. I asked Mrs. T- about going at the end of the lunch period on Wednesday through Friday (2 classes each day) and she asked Mrs. S- but they said there wouldn’t be enough time, and with the exception of Thursday they’d all be going home right after lunch anyway. Mrs. S- suggested I just say farewell to all of them at the last assembly Friday morning and give the CDs to their teachers to distribute, but that was so cold and impersonal as to ruin the entire point.

But yesterday I just went ahead and took a bag full of CDs to the third-grade classrooms at the end of the lunch period and handed them out to the students I wanted to give them to and anyone else who wanted them. There wasn’t enough time for an individual goodbye to everyone, but this worked out well enough. The students were very happy and grateful to get another present from their ALT and I at least got to say goodbye to each individual class (or groups of students who were out roaming the hallways). Most students just took the CD with a casual “thank you” but some were positively beaming. In any case, it was enough to make it worth the effort.

On Tuesday I was greatly relieved to get a contract from Interac in the mail specifying a new period of employment from March 2012 to March 2013 with the Togane board of education. It wasn’t certain until that moment that I’d be staying at the same school, but now that contract is signed and delivered back to them the deal is officially sealed. I guess the board of education decided they wanted to keep me around. I never had much doubt that they would, but there was always that annoying uncertainty, especially after hearing from other ALTs that Interac likes to move teachers around just for the sake of moving them around. In fact most other Interac ALTs I know change schools rather frequently, even within the same school-year. I’m having a hard enough time saying goodbye just once.

But I don’t have to bid the first- and second-graders farewell just yet. I’m currently going about my final lessons of the year with each of them. Since the textbook work is pretty much finished, I had free reign to do just about whatever I wanted with the lessons, so naturally I went about making epic textbook-spanning review games. It was nice and easy with the first-graders, as the grammar points for each chapter are almost exclusively questions and answers, such as “Where is the book? / It’s on the desk.” and “Whose pen is this? / It’s Yuki’s.” I printed 20 sheets of questions and 20 sheets of answers and made it a matching game. A student from each team stands up and picks a random number for a question and a random number for an answer and I magnetize those sheets to the board. If there’s no match, they sit down. If they see a match they call it out, I remove those sheets from the board, and that team gets a point. It’s simple enough that it requires barely no explanation, and it just happens to be pretty darn educational if I might say so myself. This is all the English they’ve learned all year, condensed into one little game, and as they search for matches they’re reinforcing everything they know as well as gaining confidence that they actually do understand it.

As for the second-graders, the grammar points were not so straightforward so I had to get a little more creative. I made the same game I prepared for the third-graders and won’t get to play with them, in which four teams compete to win programs from the textbook. The textbook has 8 regular programs (some are just stories and so contain no specific grammar points) and three grammar-points per program. I made 5 questions for each program using the grammar points, and the objective was to win a majority of the 5 possible points to win the program for your team. I magnetize a sheet of paper for each program to the blackboard and hand them to the teams that win them. To spice things up I have a picture of a random character for each program like Mario or Hello Kitty (the one for Program 9 is the favorite).

The questions were sentences modeled on the exact grammar points to which I left two words missing, made two deliberate mistakes, or scrambled the words around. The students would have to write the full, correct sentence on the board in order to win the point. I had some difficulty figuring out the best way to pull this off, but I eventually settled on something I thought would work well and which has. After the team that won the previous point chooses which program they want to go for, I put up a printed sheet of paper with that question on the board and have the four students, one student from each team, come up and tackle it simultaneously. I actually printed two sheets for each question so I could put one on each side and thus not give anyone a proximity-advantage.

The first team to finish writing and to have the correct answer would get the point. Determining which team finishes first can be tricky, so I made little laminated cards for each team (designing the graphic was the most time-consuming but fun part of preparation) and said that the teams should put their magnetized card on the board once they finished writing, at which point they couldn’t go back and fix anything. If I stand at the right angle I can almost always tell which team finishes first. Often, the team to finish first won’t have the totally correct answer, which keeps things exciting. I let them check their textbooks for 30 seconds before coming to the board and writing (which they can begin only after the buzzer rings) but they can’t bring their textbooks with them. However—and I think this was my best idea to date—I let them bring one friend from their team to help them. That way even the less confident students could participate and have a fighting chance at winning. Every team had at least one particularly smart student, though thankfully none were dragged to the board for every single question. The boys in particular were more likely to go on their own, but if they needed help it was available to them.

This is clearly my most elaborate game to date (I already regret undertaking to describe it here), and even with all the forethought there were still some kinks to work out (that 30-second preparation-time thing is something I didn’t come up with until the 3^rd time). The students are confused at first but they quickly get the hang of it. But the important thing is that they have fun, and they definitely do. The inherent fairness of the game, especially with the bring-a-friend thing, results in each team winning a number of points and gets them cheering. The game has ended with virtually even scores each time so far, and I’ve had to use a tie-breaker to determine the winner. (If no team gets a majority of the five questions so you have a 2 and 2 and 1 situation, I give a spelling word from the program and the first team to write it correctly on the board wins). But the major flaw so far has been time. The periods are already condensed to 45-minutes as opposed to the standard 50, and 8 programs with 5 questions each is just too much. We barely finish half, and sometimes only 1 or 2 programs actually get finished and the winner must be determined by points alone. So yesterday I slashed two questions from each program and from now on there will only be three, which I suspect will work much better.

Naturally, this being the final lesson I figured I might as well do the same thing I did with the Christmas lesson and give CDs away as presents. I’m burning up plenty of CDs so I might as well. Only this time I’m not just giving them to the winning team but to any students who clearly exert an effort (and any student who comes up to me after class and asks for one).

That should be the last overly-detailed description of classroom activities for a very long time.

As I mentioned, the graduation ceremony is tomorrow. There was a rehearsal yesterday so I got to see how the whole thing will go down, and it’s not all that different from graduation ceremonies in America. It’s extremely formal of course, but so are ceremonies in America. The uniforms greatly augment the atmosphere of formality, but it’s still basically the same routine of songs, speeches, and the distribution of awards and diplomas.

But I would definitely venture to say that they take this a lot more seriously in Japan. They work the students hard to prepare, and I’ve been shocked by how often they get yelled at and chastised for things like not standing and bowing in perfect synchronization. They’re in the gym every day practicing their songs, and yesterday they even held every single second-grader after school for additional practice. The singing sounds perfectly lovely to me but apparently it doesn’t meet the faculty’s standards. When they don’t sing loudly or enthusiastically enough, they make them do it again. The students were supposed to go home at 3:30 yesterday but they got held until about 3:50.

I’ve been in a substantially melancholy mood all week, complemented by (and partly due to) the weather, which has been non-stop clouds and rain since Monday. Yesterday’s graduation rehearsal was particularly sad, what with watching all of the third-graders walk on stage to receive their fake-diploma from the principal and take their final bow. Junior high school is probably the greatest time of transition in a person’s life. They come in as children and leave as young adults. But for three years, this building and the people in it constitute their entire world. As of tomorrow, they are exiled from that world never to return. Another chapter of life irreversibly transformed into memory.

It makes me reflect on my own life and how many chapters I’ve left behind. Five schools from kindergarten to college, two years in California, three in Germany. There are things I miss about all of them. But time flows in only one direction, and when something is gone it’s gone forever. To beings with an awareness of time, it may just be the greatest tragedy of the universe.

But I don’t want to overstate things too much. I may be sad but it’s a comfortable sadness. This is a normal part of life. You’re supposed to feel sad at times like these.

I’ll just be relieved when the graduation ceremony tomorrow is over. Then all the goodbye-related stress will be over and there will be no more goodbyes to say. At least not until next year when the current second-graders have their graduation, and that’s going to be far worse than this. By then I’ll have spent nearly two years with these students. I’m already terribly fond of a whole bunch of them, and watching them disappear into memory is definitely going to hurt. At least with my students in Germany I could still keep in touch with them (and I have). But that won’t be the case with any of these kids. I honestly don’t know how other teachers manage to handle it, except that it’s something they get used to after awhile (and most are probably not nearly as wishy-washy sensitive as I am).

Interestingly, the teachers in Japanese schools are also just here temporarily. I found out today that teachers here don’t usually stay at the same school for more than 7 or 8 years. I don’t know why, but the government likes to move them around (sort of like Interac does with their ALTs). Even within the school, they don’t teach the same grade from year to year. As for the students, they mix up the classes after first-grade, but they remain with the same group in their second and third year. Mrs. T- couldn’t explain why they do it like that, but she told me it was normal. She said she’ll probably stay at this school next year but she doesn’t know what grades or classes she’ll teach.

Tomorrow evening there will be another party for the teachers, this one at a hotel near the beach. After the initial party some teachers will be going out for karaoke, and regardless of my mood I intend to join them and probably sleep at the hotel. I’m not really looking forward to it as I’m in no mood for a party, but it’s a worthwhile experience that I can’t pass up. I’ll just be glad when it’s over and the rest of the school-year unceremoniously fades away.

There are a few more random non-school related things to mention, but this post is already far longer than I’d intended (as usual) so I’ll save them for next time, once the saddest week of the year is finally over.

While the day-to-day sideshow of the presidential primary and other sensational stories keep us distracted, the most important thing happening in the world today is scarcely getting any attention at all. The U.S. headlines remain dominated by stories of clownish candidates and their gaffes, birth-control controversies, pedophile football-coaches, celebrity deaths, and so on. In a sane country, every newspaper would be screaming the same question on Page One: “Will there be war with Iran?”

It might not feel like it, but we are practically on the brink of a conflict that could conceivably escalate into World War III. Something akin to the Cuban Missile Crisis is taking place behind the scenes of the great global power struggle and the agents involved are taking care to keep it as quiet as possible. Those interested in starting this war know that their situation becomes more complicated if the masses start paying attention, so the least we can do is make our awareness known.

Everybody ought to be gravely worried about this, but unfortunately people take most of their cues from news anchors and commentators, and none of them are projecting what I feel is an appropriate amount of concern. I will explain why I’m worried in the hopes that it will encourage others to express these concerns as well. This is not fear-mongering, as this is rational fear. Rational fear is what prevented nuclear war with the Soviet Union, and it’s the only thing that can stop us from a potentially disastrous war in the Middle East.

Regardless of your political persuasion, you can not deny that there are powerful organized interests who benefit financially from war. Military contractors such as those listed here have seen their budgets inflate wildly thanks to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Now that those wars are dying down, could anyone honestly believe that these companies are prepared to see all of that extra revenue suddenly dissolve into thin air? The people who run these companies have all the incentive in the world to seek a justification for another war. It’s not that they’re evil—they’ve probably convinced themselves that Iran does pose a genuine threat and a war now is preferable to a war later. With billions of dollars on the line, you can will yourself into believing just about anything.

If we acknowledge that there are powerful interests who are actively trying to bring about war, the question then becomes what could stand in their way. The most obvious answer is public pressure, and after a decade of Afghanistan and Iraq the public is sick of war. The most recent CNN/ORC poll shows that regarding Iran 60% of Americans favor a diplomatic approach and only 17% would favor military force.

Compare that to the numbers in the lead-up to the Iraq war. In the aftermath of 9/11, Americans were far more supportive of military action, and virtually no effort was made to protest or lobby the government against it. Effort was expended to sell the American public on the idea of preemptive war in Iraq, and after a long period of widespread journalistic malfeasance (of which the most egregious offenses are recounted here) the war was launched with barely a word of public outcry.

Because that debacle is still fresh in the collective memory, the military contractors are barely even bothering with public opinion this time. That’s not to say they aren’t trying: just watch the major news-channels and notice that among the few stories in which Iran is mentioned, it’s almost always referred to as an imminent threat. Glen Greenwald wrote a piece last week drawing attention to how retired generals such as Barry McCaffrey have been posing as objective military analysts while at the same time participating in a Pentagon propaganda program. Greenwald reports that McCaffrey has been briefing NBC executives on the situation with Iran, basically telling them that war will almost certainly break out within 90 days and it will be Iran’s doing. The message they want planted in American minds is not that a war with Iran is desirable—they know they’ll never be able to accomplish that—but that it may be necessary.

Even if the majority of Americans are against the war, they can still safely launch one as long as the people believe they had no choice.

That means we must be prepared to be dragged into a war we don’t want, and there are two very easy ways this can be accomplished. First is to goad the Iranians into attacking one of our ships in the Persian Gulf in the hopes of provoking another Gulf of Tonkin incident (thankfully, Iran doesn’t seem anxious to take the bait). The second is to have Israel launch a pre-emptive strike against Iran’s nuclear facilities and wait for Iran’s retaliation. I’m particularly worried about this second possibility, as Benjamin Netanyahu is about as hawkish as they come and he has a history of acting without U.S. approval.

Luckily for us, the last thing the Obama administration wants in the run-up to the re-election is to start an unpopular war with Iran, and this week he’s no doubt pressuring Netanyahu not to strike. I have a long history of criticizing the president, but one solid reason to vote for him in 2012 is that he—whether out of genuine moral conviction or pure political calculation—will resist starting another war, whereas Romney, Santorum, or Gingrich would do everything they could to facilitate one.

Yet if Netanyahu acts unilaterally by bombing Iran’s nuclear facilities and inviting a counter-attack by Iran, President Obama will have no choice but to honor the alliance with Israel and commit the U.S. military to the fight. Just consider what would happen if he refused and withheld military support from Israel. The right-wing, which has already been lambasting the president for being weak on Israel and soft on the Muslim world for three years, would come down full-force and Obama would be accused of nothing less than allowing a Second Holocaust. He’d be damned among conservatives for avoiding the war and he’d be damned among progressives for joining it (not to mention damned among everyone for the effect on gas prices), so his best hope is that it does not become an issue. But Netanyahu is no friend of Obama and neither are the military contractors. Handing him a political nightmare in an election year is just another incentive to start the war now.

And this is the point I want to conclude on: why now? Even if you believe that Iran is not a rational actor and would launch a suicidal nuclear attack on Israel if they had the capability, there is absolutely no credible person on the planet who says they have that capability now. Even the war-mongering General McCaffrey puts forward a figure of 36 months as the period of time it will take for Iran to develop nuclear weapons, though he inexplicably insists they intend to escalate towards war within 90 days. Even if you were a religious nut, why on earth would you start a war with your mortal enemy several years before you are capable of seriously harming them? An attack now would invite a counter-attack from the United States military that would destroy the Iranian government before they could even bruise Israel. The leaders of Iran might be crazy (and I don’t believe they are) but they’re definitely not that stupid. They rigged an election in 2009, and that requires at least two brain cells to accomplish.

The reasons why this war might start in 2012 are numerous. The withdrawal of our last combat troops from Iraq at the end of 2011 is one. The benefits of starting this conflict during an election year are another. But perhaps the most sinister is the fact that the year happens to be 2012. It’s no secret that many people with their hands on the levers of power in the world are fundamentalist Christians. Many see a nuclear conflict in the Middle East involving Israel as the spark that will bring about Armageddon, and what better year to get that started than the year the Mayan calendar ends and people are already anticipating an apocalypse? Prophecies have a tendency of fulfilling themselves, especially when very powerful people who believe the prophecies find themselves in a position to bring them to fruition.

A war with Iran will not be like the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Iran is far more powerful and capable of putting up a fight. Dozens of catastrophic scenarios are possible if we strike. Other Muslim nations, their perceptions of a Holy War being waged against them reinforced by an unprovoked U.S.-Israeli assault on a fellow Muslim country might very well get involved. Pakistan, with whom our relations these past years have been tenuous at best, might cut all diplomatic ties with us and join the fight on Iran’s side and offer their nuclear support. Iran might already have other weapons of mass destruction such as chemical or biological in their arsenal as an insurance policy for war just waiting to be unleashed. Whatever happens, millions of innocent people will die or have their lives tragically altered forever. All so a few mega-wealthy corporations can maintain their profits.

I’m not sure we can stop this. Writing to our representatives and marching in the streets will probably not be enough to block this juggernaut, but we have to be aware of what’s going on. If we can’t prevent it, at least we can be prepared for it.

Last night I hung out with Trey, and learned a lot more about the shooting that took place at Denny’s on Tuesday which sent my school into a panic.

According to Trey’s “sources”, the incident had something to do with the Yakuza, an organized-crime syndicate that controls just about every ‘seedy’ business in Japan such as strip-clubs, casinos, and snack-bars. I’d never heard the name before, but I researched them today and what I found was rather fascinating.

They’ve been around for almost 400 years, ever since the Edo period when members of the lowest social groups such as peddlers and gamblers began to organize and slowly accumulate power and influence. Over the centuries they’ve grown to become not just the largest organized crime syndicate in Japan, but in the entire world, with an estimated membership of over 100,000.

Unlike the mafia we’re familiar with, the Yakuza are not quite so underground. They have considerable influence within the Japanese government itself, and often work in coordination with the police when it comes to handling certain matters.

But it seems they handle most of their matters internally, which is probably what went down at the Denny’s on Tuesday. According to Trey, four members of the Yakuza were sitting together when someone they all knew came in and pulled one of the gang members to another table to have a private conversation. It’s unclear as to whether this fifth person was Yakuza himself or not. But after a few minutes, he pulled out a gun and shot the Yakuza member in the chest and fled the scene.

The injured Yakuza was rushed to the hospital where he did succumb to his wounds and die. There was a manhunt under way for the shooter for three days, until he just turned up yesterday in Kujukuri—the town where I always go to the beach—shot dead in the back of a van. The official story from the police is that it was a suicide. Nobody believes the official story.

It’s possible that the shooter had been Yakuza himself and under instructions to kill a member who had done something wrong, and was later killed by the Yakuza to keep him quiet. It’s also possible he was a member of a smaller, rival gang and the Yakuza killed him out of revenge. But he apparently knew all of the Yakuza in the restaurant, so I think he was also a member. It’s possible that the killing was not planned and the Yakuza killed the shooter for stepping out of line.

But Trey explained that it almost certainly was orchestrated by someone, as guns are incredibly difficult to come by in Japan—they are massively illegal—and the only way a person is going to get their hands on one is if they have strong reason to believe they’re going to use it.

The extreme dearth of gun violence in Japan makes this a relatively extraordinary event. Such shootings only happen one or two times a year in all of Japan. The shooting at the Denny’s a block away from my school was not just local news but national news. It’s no wonder the phones were ringing off the hook on Tuesday—parents must have seen or heard about it within minutes of hours of the story breaking, and given that in the entire country this shooting just happened to take place a block away from the school their child goes to it’s no wonder they would freak out. But the kids weren’t in any danger.

As for the Denny’s it seems I’ll never get a chance to eat there (not that I was eager to before). Whereas if there’s a shooting at a place of business in America it usually shuts down for a day or two and then re-opens as quickly as possible, it’s such a rare thing in Japan that there will forever be a shroud of fear surrounding the idea of the Togane Denny’s and that business is officially done with.

It’s crazy to think that the eyes of the entire country of Japan have been on my little town all week. News cameras were undoubtedly not just pointing at the Denny’s on Tuesday but at the school nearby. My little ol’ school was in the national news! While I was there! What are the odds?

So that’s the story of what is now being called “the Yakuza killings”. Pretty cool.

In other news, hanging out with Trey proved even more enjoyable than I think either of us expected. We talked a lot of politics, went out for dinner at Coco’s (right across the street from the Denny’s, now no longer a dining option), and watched a couple of episodes of Mad Men afterwards. He told me about trips he occasionally takes that are organized by foreigners who gather groups of foreigners and Japanese people—including girls who are interested in foreigners—to spend the weekend doing things like snowboarding. He invited me along on the next trip, but unfortunately these things cost a pretty penny and I’ve got to save my money for the sailing trip in May. But from what he says, these kids of trips are my best bet for finding a long-term Japanese girlfriend.

In blogging news, my recent piece “The Fictional Obama” is the first thing I posted to Open Salon in months, but it was made an Editor’s Pick and put on the front page where it attracted a lot of readers and comments. Apparently I’ve still got a knack for political writing so maybe I’ll get back in the habit of doing it more often.

In school news, aside from Tuesday’s excitement it’s been a dreadfully slow week. The third-graders are still busy with end-of-year exams, and the first-graders had exams this week too. I had no lessons at all on Wednesday but Interac insisted I come in anyway, which meant I got to spend a solid eight hours in the teacher’s room doing little more than killing time. I was told the lessons for next week so I got to spend some time preparing for them, but unfortunately that doesn’t take as long as I’d like it to. Then today I was supposed to have four third-grade lessons back-to-back in the morning (followed by an empty afternoon) but Ms. S- decided at the last minute she’d rather give her students a test than have me do the game I’d prepared, which was bad news for both me and the students. At least I was able to do it in Mrs. T-’s class, thus making it the most enjoyable 45-minutes of the day by far.

There’s barely a month left in the school-year. I’m really going to miss teaching, but I’m definitely not going to miss these long-stretches of sitting in an office with nothing to do.

There was a bit of excitement around here yesterday, as a shooting took place at the Denny’s just a block away from where my school is.

The principal came on the loudspeaker second period to let everyone know that ambulances and possibly helicopters would be coming, so the classrooms should close their curtains in order to keep the distraction to a minimum. I found out between periods that there had been a shooting and the victim was in bad shape. Not only that, but the shooter had gotten away and the police were now looking for him.

Togane being a small town among many small Japanese towns, the shooting of course made the local news, and by the next period the phones in the teacher’s room were ringing off the hook with parents concerned about their kids’ safety. As if the gunner’s next logical move after getting away with shooting someone would be to continue on a rampage at the nearby Junior High School. But of course it’s always best to play it safe. All doors and gates were locked and police were patrolling the school’s perimeter. All afternoon classes were cancelled and the kids were allowed to go home as soon as their parents could come pick them up.

It was hard to come by any solid information, but from ALT-gossip on Facebook I gathered that the shooting was gang-related, in which case the kids were in even less danger than I figured. But as far as I know they haven’t caught the guy yet, and I don’t know if the victim survived, so it’s quite possible he got away with murder, at least for now.

The police still had a perimeter around the Denny’s when I walked home yesterday. I’ll never look at that place the same way again.

Listening to these Republican candidates talk about Obama, I often wish we actually had the kind of president they’re attacking. The paint him as some kind of progressive lion, zealously going after the super-rich on behalf of the working class, steadfastly holding to an ideology of civil liberties even if it compromises America’s safety, and systematically dismantling our empire abroad, all the while apologizing to the world for our previous transgressions. I don’t know who this person is that they keep railing against, but it’s not the Obama I know.

The fact is that the Republicans are banking on the majority of their base having a completely distorted view of the president thanks to conservative news sources like Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, etc. These media outlets have made a calculated decision to create their own narrative about who Obama is and what he wants to do, to emphasize every tiny little thing that supports that narrative and de-emphasize, ignore, or even outright lie about anything that doesn’t.

The Obama you see on Fox News is not a real person but actually a fictional character based on the stereotype of liberals that conservatives have in their minds. He wants to raise taxes, impose strict regulations on business, cut defense, eliminate gun rights, encourage more abortions and gay marriages, read terrorists their rights, and purge all religion from the public sphere. When the Republican presidential candidates talk to their debate audiences and the crowds at their campaign rallies about Obama, they’re talking about this guy, a radically liberal president who—unfortunately for them—doesn’t actually exist.

The real Obama hasn’t raised taxes. He’s far too timid to take the political risk. He’s cut taxes across the board and agreed to extend the Bush tax-cuts for two years. He says he’ll fight to let them expire next time, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

As for the idea that he’s imposing crippling regulations on businesses, that is simply absurd. Barack Obama is the Goldman Sachs president. His entire financial team and his last two chiefs of staff have been Wall Street insiders, and according to internal memos it would appear that they dictate his every move in that area. The “historic financial reform” legislation that passed last year is widely acknowledged by bankers to be a complete joke. Not one of the people who caused the financial crisis of 2008 has been prosecuted for committing fraud, and Wall Street continues to thrive thanks to taxpayer bailouts (which Obama supported) while the rest of the country struggles.

I hear over and over again that Obama has drastically cut defense spending. Simply not true. Defense spending has increased every year since Obama took office, it’s just that the rate of increase has gone slightly down thanks to the cutting of a few strategically unnecessary projects like stealth-fighters designed to fight the Cold War. Some might say that it’s merely stretching the truth to refer to a slower rate of increase as a “cut”, but I call it lying.

And as for the whole general idea that Obama is weak on defense, consider his doubling-down in Afghanistan and the recent foray into Libya. He withdrew troops from Iraq but only because he was forced to under a treaty signed by the Bush administration which he tried and failed to renegotiate.

On gun rights, Obama has not lifted a finger to do anything about it, other than quietly write an op-ed on the issue after the Gabby Giffords shooting, in which he did not endorse a single reform that didn’t enjoy at least a 60% approval in polls. And afterwards he did absolutely nothing to attempt to initiate those reforms.

On social issues, one can point to the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and pretend that Obama is the “fierce advocate” of gay rights that he claimed to be, but he dragged his feet on that issue for quite some time and he still refuses to publicly come out in support of gay marriage. And on abortion, what has Obama done? Nothing. He won’t even touch that issue with a ten-foot pole, so afraid is he of the potential criticism. But he will make it harder for young women to obtain birth control.

When it comes to the idea that Obama would rather read terrorists their rights than keep America safe, this is where the distance between the real Obama and the fictional Obama is at its widest. Not only has Obama continued the civil liberties abuses that began under the Bush administration, but he’s actually expanded them, to the point where now it’s written into the law that the president has the power to throw American citizens into prison without a trial purely on suspicion of ties to terrorism. He appeared to make a genuine effort to close down Guantanamo as soon as he took office, but when that failed he never brought the issue up again, and the prison remains open and could conceivably remain so for generations. He doesn’t do waterboarding anymore but he hasn’t prosecuted anyone responsible for that war crime, all the while bringing the hammer down on whistleblowers like Bradley Manning who dared to make the abuses of our military public. Finally, if you really want to know whether or not Obama is soft on terror, you can ask Osama bin Laden.

And lastly, there’s the matter of religion. Newt Gingrich told a crowd of supporters that as soon as he takes office, he’ll repeal every single anti-religious act passed by the Obama administration. That shouldn’t take long, as no such acts have been passed by the real Obama. The fictional Obama is the one carrying out this “war on religion” we keep hearing about. After all, that guy is secretly Muslim and born in Kenya, and obviously on a crusade to undermine America’s Christian moral foundation.

Running against a fictional character may work for the Republican candidates in the primary, but it’s going to blow up in their faces if they try that in the general election, which is exactly what Obama is counting on. If Mitt Romney accuses Obama in a debate of raising taxes, Obama will be poised and ready with the facts to prove that he has not. The same goes for the accusation that he’s cut defense, gone after gun rights, and so on. The major political advantage Obama has garnered for himself by going against his liberal base time and again on nearly every single issue is that the Republicans can’t make a fact-based attack on him for doing any of the things that liberal presidents are normally criticized for doing. The best they can do is say that he talked about doing such things in the 2008 campaign.

If they’re forced to run against the real Obama, there are plenty of things to criticize him for, but they are guilty of those same things themselves. Romney could expose every last way in which Obama has been a puppet of Wall Street, but he knows quite well that he’s running to be the next puppet of the very same interests.

But the truly funny thing is that aside from his ties to the financial industry, most conservatives would like the real Obama if they knew who he was. If you just changed the D in front of his name to an R and read off a list of the actions he’s taken since his term began, they’d understand him to be a moderate who is slightly left-of-center on some issues but right-of-center on most.

The real Obama governs like a moderate Republican of former days, before the party drifted off to its right-wing fringe. The real Obama would win a national election against any of these clowns the Republicans have put forward in this primary, and they know it. That’s why they have no choice but to run against a fictional character instead, and it’s why they’re going to lose the general election when the curtain is pulled back and independent voters get a good look at who Obama actually is.

On an episode of The Young Turks last week, one of the stories in the social-commentary hour had to do with a growing trend in Japan regarding the lack of interest in sexual activity among the Japanese youth. In a survey of young Japanese, 59% of females said they had little or no interest in sex or relationships, and 36% of males said the same. I was bothered by the uncharacteristically unreasonable commentary on the story from Cenk Uygur, who completely ignored the fact that 59% of women aren’t looking for sex and blamed the men who’ve given up on finding a sexual partner (for whom the term “herbivore men” has been coined) for their failure. I couldn’t help but write an e-mail to the show, and I might as well post it here:

I know it’s been well over a week since you guys discussed the story of the lack of interest in sexual activity among Japanese youth and the “herbivore men” but as someone who lives in Japan and has had some first-hand experience with this issue, Cenk’s egregious oversimplification and mischaracterization of the situation has stuck in my craw and I just need to say my piece.

Before I do I just want to mention that as a junior high school teacher, I actually find this lack of sexuality among young people to be a good thing. It wasn’t too long ago that I was a middle-school student in the U.S., and while I get the impression that American kids that age have become even more sexually active since the late 90s, even then there was some sex going on and at least a preponderance of puppy-love “relationships”. But Japanese students age 13-15 don’t seem to have any interest in the opposite sex whatsoever, which for their age I couldn’t be happier about. I love these kids and I want them to stay innocent as long as possible.

But when it comes to young adults for whom sexual exploration and romantic relationships are supposed to be the norm, it’s a completely different story, and Cenk is far too harsh on the Japanese men who are victims of the situation. He seems to think that the only reason 59% of young women are not looking for a partner is because the men are all sissies and no one appeals to them.

The 59% of young women in that survey who said they had no interest in sex are not sitting at the club waiting for a manly man to come sweep them off their feet—they’re sitting at home watching TV. Of the 41% who are open to sex and relationships, at least half of them—probably more but let’s be conservative—have boyfriends. That leaves roughly 20% of the female population for the remaining 80% of men (leaving out the lucky 20% with girlfriends) to compete for. To blame them for getting discouraged is like blaming the American unemployed for their plight when there is only 1 job-opening for every 5 job-seekers.

Statistically speaking, there are bound to be failures. A significant percentage of Japanese men are doomed to fail repeatedly (“again and again and again”), especially those who through no fault of their own lack the dominant-male gene. With every failure they get more discouraged, feel more and more worthless as human beings, and more likely to just give up altogether and attempt to find emotional and sexual fulfillment in a way that doesn’t require another person. Given the statistics it’s surprising to me that the number of these herbivore men is only 36%.

As an extremely self-confident guy who has had plenty of success with the ladies, it’s very easy for Cenk to sit on his high-horse and preach about going in strong and never giving up and that success will come eventually, but he’s never walked a day in their shoes.

Yes, there’s virtue in that attitude and it would be better for Japanese society if more men had that confidence and more women were open to it, but you have to understand the historical context. The alienating effect of modern technology plays a huge role, but you also have to consider that for thousands of years, women in Japanese society were treated as little more than semen-receptacles, and now that they’re more empowered it’s no wonder that nearly two-thirds of them reject that role and choose a non-sexual lifestyle. As for the men, it’s no wonder that many of them are rejecting their own role as the dominant-male and choosing a lifestyle that is the polar opposite of subjugating women. Perhaps that’s over-reactionary on their part, but it can’t be so easily dismissed as something done out of weakness, cowardice, or laziness.

Finally, regarding Cenk’s comment about how if he were young and single again he’d be teaching English in Japan and scooping up all the girls the Japanese men are too sissy to get, I wish he could somehow give it a try and see how he does. I’ve been a bit of a herbivore myself for most of my life but nowadays I’m much more confident, but in Japan it’s just not easy for anyone these days. Casual sex is one thing and if you try enough times you’re bound to succeed eventually, but if what you’re actually looking for is a long-term relationship, that is next to impossible in this climate unless you’ve got money or power, and foreigners who teach English for a living have neither.