We Live Where We Are

Surgery, One Strange Fact, and the Brimming of Possibilities.

Ah, the tragic lament of my luckless wife. New country, new job, broken leg, prospect of surgery. Yes, our friendly orthopedic specialist has recommended a minor operation for Julianna's leg, if you consider the insertion of a metal plate and screws minor. We've sent digital copies of her x-rays to a few American doctors, and we're waiting for second and third opinions before we decide on anything. There's a definate difference in the way such an operation would be handled here. For instance, in America, this would be a simple outpatient procedure, and Julianna would be home, at the latest, the next day. Here, the doctor suggests a week long hospital stay for monitoring. We've also had it explained to us numerous times that Japanese and Americans have entirely different pain thresholds. I have a hard time believing that, but perhaps the stereotype will work in our favor and this notion of over-protective bedrest will evaporate. Though Julianna recognizes she will need rest, she certainly doesn't want to milk the system for sick days, especially needless ones. Here's to hoping surgery will be ruled out and her knee-high hard cast will suffice.

This week hasn't been all drama. I started teaching classes on Monday, and it's been a curious experience. Some classes are wholeheartedly enthusiastic, while others sit in collective silence with downcast eyes. Half the time I feel like Johnny Carson, entertaining the troops, and the other half I get this terrible impression that I'm the dryest speaker in the history of human utterance. I plow forward nonetheless. As part of my introductory lesson, I asked the students to fill out a questionaire asking, among other things, their "best memory" and "one strange fact" about themselves. Let me just say I got some responses I have no business knowing. There are, of course, the random "bad" kids in class, but nothing prepared me for "My sexual tastes is...crazy. I want try some drug in America." Ahem. Well, that one was probably the worst, grammatically too.

While the kids are often stoic, if not downright terrified in class, they exhibit entirely different personas in the hallways or outside school. I get enthusiastic hellos, obviously pondered questions, and these strange buddy-buddy-I don't know you but you're a really tall foreigner-kind of interactions. It's a lot of fun, and I love to see them scrambling for English words they've got stored away somewhere in their stressed and frenzied teenage minds. I don't mean that to sound condescending, either. These kids are most assuredly stressed. When I asked for their best memories, I assumed I would get responses like "playing soccer with my friends," or "going to Australia with my family." Granted, I did get those, but they were in the minority. An overwhelming number of students answered with "passing the entrance exam for this school." What happened to being a kid?

Inside and outside of school, Japan has been brimming with possibilities for me. I'm joining a writing workshop that's being started up by a few new ALTs, and I'm also playing guitar in a band that does Scottish and Irish folk music. There is an amazing sense of internationalization here, as I've made friends with Scots, Irelanders, Aussies, Canadians, and even a Jamaican. It's a small world after all.