Snow in Niigata: Why Teineipokna-Shiri is worse than Hell

While simultaneously stuck in the worst traffic and the worst snow storm I have ever experienced, it suddenly dawned on me. The Japanese have developed such a unique and strange culture in part because of the ridiculous environmental pressures they have had to put up with for the past  16,000 years. Since I arrived in August during 35°C temperatures and 100% humidity, there have been multiple landslides, huge thunderstorms, a couple of tsunami's, my first earthquake and even a volcanic eruption. This particular archipelago is trying to kill off its inhabitants.

Those hazards have been nothing in comparison to what even my Japanese co-workers have described as the snowstorm of the century. It's easy to laugh about it now with the sun shinning over the white blanket spread across Joetsu, but during the Wednesday evening drive home it really felt like Mother Earth had found her weapon of choice - Death by yuki.*

The Little K-Car that Could

It's funny. People said the snow got bad here, and I thought they were exaggerating. Turns out it was a huge understatement. More snow fell in 24 hours than Humberside, or even Durham, gets in two years. My usual 20 minute drive home took an hour and a half.  Despite the best efforts of the car heaters I could only see out of two small circles on the front window, and gale force winds whipped up the snow banks, making visibility nil. The roads had become freestyle mogul slopes.  It's a miracle my little K-Car made it.

Thankfully the guy who lives upstairs had cleared my parking space, so I didn't have to get out and dig for the fourth time that day when I arrived home. I quickly burrowed in under my Kotatsu (heated table),** and did not move until I made the quick dash to bed. It wasn't until I woke up the next day that I realised I'd slept in my clothes. Sometimes its just too cold to change.

Now, I can hear you sat at home asking "Mr. Lichaado San, what does all this snow have to do with culture?" Well, one of the identifying features of the Japanese way of life is the importance of society over the individual. In the face of natural disasters, bad weather of both extremes, and ground that is doing its best to shake everyone into the sea, we are reliant on society's helping hand. Through thousands of years of trial and error, the Japanese have learnt that the best way to face such adversity is as a unit. And afterwards everyone is closer for the simple reason that we made it through to the other side, together.

Thursday morning the roads had hardly improved. I made it to school 25 minutes late and was congratulated for it.

The Great Escape

Most religions and cultures represent the ultimate punishment for misbehaviour as roasting in an eternal fire. The Ainu, indigenous to the northern island of Hokkaido, pictured something far more terrifying-

"Gehenna, or hell, is called Teineipokna-shiri,
and that means ' the wet underground land.' The
wicked are punished in this place. As to what
these punishments consist of, the Ainu are not all
agreed. Some say that the spirits which go there
will be wet, uncomfortable, and very cold for ever."
        (John Batchelor 1901, The Ainu and their Folklore)

I always imagined the apocalypse as fire and brimstone. Now I know the truth - it all ends in a big freeze and everybody's got wet socks. Niigata is know for two things, sake and snow. Considering how great the sake is, I should have guessed how awful the snow would be. Life is a balance. Without the bad, good things would just seem ordinary. Work and holidays. Yin and yang. Snow storms and warm sake.

There are a few hardy individuals willing to pit themselves against the weather this winter and stay in Japan for christmas. They will be wet, uncomfortable , and very cold. Teineipokna-shiri on earth. I however have plotted an escape route. Four trains, two planes, and a car ride are all that separate me from the Malaysian beach I will be enjoying on Monday. And it's going to seem very, very good.

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*On an academic side note, the Kanji for weather is 天気, which literally means something like the mood of the heavens. I think the heavens are angry about something.

**There is no central heating in Japan... I think it's because there would be thousands of gas leaks every time there's an earthquake. Because Japan is trying to kill everyone that lives here.

The Tori and the Tamago

Recently I ran into a dilemma that hasn't been faced by the British public since 1948. For about a week I hadn't been able to hear out of my right ear. I assumed mother nature would do her thing and unblock it without  too much human intervention, but I was beginning to lose hope. Usually I would have rang up the local Doctors and gotten an appointment, but even the easiest task becomes 5 times more complicated when you throw the Japanese language into the mix. I don't even know if GP's are a thing here, and more importantly the NHS isn't here to pick up the check. With pay day just out of arms reach, I had to decide which was more important: beer money or hearing.

The Last Sentence is a Joke About Blocked Ears

After making a quick pros and cons list, I realised I could put this off no longer.  The deafness had evolved from a blockage to a dull ache and constant ringing noise, both of which are dangerously close to the symptoms of an ear infection. My students as always were doing their best to avoid speaking English, but even when they did I couldn't hear them. On the flip side I had mastered the phrase "mou ichido, kudasai" (Once more, please), although saying it 50 odd times a day was getting a little tiring. Every cloud has a silver lining, but that doesn't mean it's gonna stop raining. Sometimes you've got to face the facts, grab an umbrella, and stop stretching metaphors.

I swallowed my pride and came clean. There is no subtle way to communicate with people who do not share the same language as you. I tried to tell the teacher next to me in the staff room, but it suddenly became a group exercise of "Guess What the Silly Gaijin Wants." After much pointing, a quick game of charades, and consultation with the not so trusty Google translate, I managed to explain the problem to the gathered crowd. People cheered. Kyōtō and Kōchō-Sensei high fived. "Naru hodo" echoed round the room. At least I think that's what they said.

Let's Listen!

I am now learning a whole new language for the first time. Being able to say "J'adore la bibliothèque" after 5 years of French at school does not count. Considering there are 3 different alphabets, I thought the difficult part would be writing and reading. However I'm 66% of the way there already. With two done in four months, I should have Kanji down by Christmas.

What has proved difficult (and last week impossible) is listening to Japanese. It isn't until you leave your mother tongue that you realise how fast native speakers talk. And how little they separate out words. I was going to complain about the speed of the Japanese language, but realised its true of all languages and their native speakers. Time is money, and the faster we can communicate what we want to say, the better we are doing it. In theory.

It's also something I find fairly difficult to study. I've downloaded all the NHK's free podcasts (which you can find here) and been listening to them in the car. It hasn't really worked though. Other than the giggle every time the host Michelle Yamamoto says "program", I keep realising half way through that I haven't been paying attention and I've got no idea what government propaganda has been playing for the past 10 minutes. I have a sneaking suspicion that without actually taking part in one to one conversations with Japanese speakers, my listening wont get any better. Except my Japanese isn't good enough to have a one to one conversation. What came first, the tori or the tamago?

Now I have gained a little empathy for the plight of my students, I have been trying to speak as clearly and slowly as possible while still sounding relatively natural. I'm never quite sure what speed to speak to teachers though. There is a fine line between considerate and condescending.

Otololaryngogology

Back to the cheering Elementary school teachers. The school nurse took the reigns and set me up with a doctors appointment that very afternoon at an ear, throat and nose specialist. Which is a thing that exists  apparently - an Otolaryngologist. I tried to teach it to my kids but they told me I kept pronouncing it wrong.

Considering the only form of communication I had with the Otolaryngologist doctor was a questionnaire with questionable English translations,* everything went smoothly. On top of being able to hear again, it only cost as much as a trip to Mac Donald's. Plenty of money left for beer: an all-round victory for international relations.

Things are great now. It was like the first day with a new pair of glasses, but for my ears.** I'd forgotten what it was like to hear things clearly. The students still refuse to speak, but at least now I can hear the wind rustle through the trees after I ask a question in class.

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* One of the options was "Ear exploded". If that had happened, I wouldn't have waited a week to sort it out. Hopefully.

** No, I did not have to get a hearing aid.

Leave it to Richard Teacher

Yesterday began like any other day at elementary school. I was inevitably 5 minutes late, stuck at a red light, and desperately wishing I knew what I was supposed to be teaching in a matter of minutes. I was especially anxious, as the night before I received the most cryptic email from a teacher to date (although I have a sneaking suspicion that if you put the email into google translate you get perfect Japanese out the other side):

"I'm sorry Richard teacher, reply becomes slow.
 Game of grade 3 and 4, and then leave it to Richard teacher. 3 grade, thank you to the center (at the school card) how to pronounce the game and story, of the alphabet about the culture of Halloween. When the time left over, I will or "Mission Game", the "Alphabet Song". In fifth grade, in charge has changed. It is Miss. M

Thank you
Miss. T"

The Culture of Halloween

I`m not complaining. I truly do appreciate being somewhat kept in the loop. It shows how hard the elementary school teachers try to communicate with us. They could have sent an email in Japanese, or no email at all. Ill take what I can get. My favourite bit is "thank you to the center." The Japanese can be so unintentionally earnest in their phrasing. I'm gonna start using that all the time.

Turns out that the usual fifth grade teacher was ill. Miss. M is a brand new support teacher that doesn't speak any English or particularly know the children in the class. So what the email translates to in practice is,

"Please teach the whole of the first three lessons on Halloween, countries, and the alphabet. You will do this alone with minimal aid. Thanks a bunch."

The panic sets in. I try to remember my training. I remember I've had no training. I look for resources. There are predictably only flashcards. That's OK, there`s only ever flashcards. I chug a cup of coffee. What is Halloween about anyway? And why do we dress up as spooky things? Is it to scare away ghosts? Surely ghosts like spooky things. If we really want to scare them we should dress as comforting things like duvets or the smell of freshly cut grass. Suddenly I hear a small child`s voice at the door of the teacher`s room. "Lichaado Sensei....Eigo.."

It's time.

Teaching Japanese Elementary School Children

This is not an isolated event. Before I came to Japan I imagined teaching would be about planing lessons, making worksheets, keeping organised, and well... remembering how to speak English. While this is partly true of Junior High School, Elementary school is a whole different ball game.

The main stumbling block is there are only a few teachers in each school that talk enough English to even let me know what's going on. Not that it's their fault. Most of the staff became teachers before English was on the Elementary School curriculum, so they are having to teach a class they`ve never had training for. Just like me. Add to that some foreign guy who can only say "Ohayo gozaimasu", "Wakarimasen", and "Toire wa doko desu ka?", and you`ve got a real party.

                                          A general morning conversation:

Lichaado-Sensei: "Ohayo gozaimasu"

(the morning greeting that literally means... it is early. Very efficient. Very Japanese)

JTE: "Ohayo gozaimasu, '&#%!)#$="!#'"&!%$=...etc"

(Some apparently random collection of Japanese syllables.)

Lichaado-Sensei: "Gomennasai, Wakarimasen."
(Sorry, I for some reason thought it wouldn't be an issue coming to japan with next to no Japanese)

JTE: "Colar gaamu preasu."
(Please teach a 45 minute class on colours. Thanks a bunch)

Winning at Japan

The Japanese 8 year olds and I still have no idea what Halloween is actually about, but they had fun pretending to be ghosts, witches, and Frankenstein. The lessons went well in the end, in large part because the senpai ALTs are kind enough to share their wealth of experience. Thank you to the center.

Turns out teaching in Elementary schools is about three  things: have a bunch of flashcard games, give simple graduated explanations, and smile till your face falls off. You have to be careful playing games with definite winners and losers. It all gets a bit too much for some of the kids, who tend to break down into tears. Which is strange, because I don`t remember crying at all at school. Guess I must have ALWAYS BEEN A WINNER.

One Month in – Genki Kids and Onsens

The pedantic among you will have noticed that I have been in Japan for more than a month. Well I originally planned to blog more things at the start of September (or as the ever-efficient Japanese call it - month nine), but between drinking on the weekends and entertaining genki kids during the week, the blogging kind of slipped through the cracks. 

To be honest though, I think you have to cut me a little slack. I sleep on the floor, all my clothes come out of the washing machine drenched, and I have only just realised that my hob will never get hot no matter how long I wait unless I put a pan on top of it. The simple everyday tasks of going to the supermarket or ordering at a restaurant have suddenly become impromptu games of roulette. I haven’t paid my bills yet because I don’t know how. I'm doing my best.

There is of course the unavoidable fact that I am extremely lazy and forgetful. Today I had one first period lesson, leaving the rest of the day to stare at a computer screen pretending to do work. I mean seriously, it does not take long to plan a lesson for six year olds. After reading every news article on the BBC website and compulsively checking the Scottish independence referendum results, I have realised I can procrastinate no longer. I have loads to blog about and plenty of time to do the blogging.

So before you all start thinking "Oh typical Soonton-Sensei, so predictable", "he never keeps up with anything", "I knew the blog wouldn't last", etc. or you forget about me completely, here is an update on my life in Japan one month-ish in.

Small Victories

Moving to Japan has been unlike any other movement I've made up to this point. Moving to University in Durham involved finding places just like the ones in my home-town, just closer. You ask "Where is a good pub?" and someone can point you in the right direction. Or even better, you see a sign which looks like a pub sign, or a name like "The Rose and Crown" and know instantly what you’re getting. Moving to the US, someone may have to explain to you, "Nah brah, we don’t have pubs, we like totally get wasted in bars" before you can find a drinking establishment, but at least they speak a form of English. Here I am not only illiterate and mute, I also have no idea which cultural cues indicate somewhere as a place to drink the pints. Sometimes by chance I manage to find an Izakaya. I can’t read the menu, so I mumble something like,

 "Nama biiru kudasi"

which elicits a condescending

 "Sugoi! You’re Japanese is so good! Jouzu!"

As if I have just pulled a bunny rabbit out of a hat. Then something hardly larger than a half pint is slid my way while they wait patiently for me to order some edamame or other bar snacks. Silly Gaijin, you can’t drink without eating! Barbarians!

Finding the pub is just one step in the exhausting process of forgetting all my old cultural norms and learning new ones. When someone asks you to be "on time" they mean 10-15 minutes early. It is polite to ignore people when they sneeze: pointing it out draws attention to their weakness or something. Bring a hand towel around with you, because there is nothing to dry your hands with in the bathroom. There are a million and one of these maxims to live by, and no one can tell you them all. You just have to gaman your way through it. 

As there is an extra layer of social ineptitude added to the difficulties of daily life, one must take refuge in small victories while living abroad. This week I managed to buy a fan and a vacuum. To most this is nothing, but finding out where they are sold, working out why one is triple the price of the other, and navigating the interaction with the cashier really makes me feel like I've done something with my day. Dream big.

Kocho-Sensei's Penis

I don't know if it is my new-found social ineptitude or if the Japanese just aren't telling me things, but I never seem to know what is going on. Life here has a habit of hiding little surprises round every corner. Each day is its own little adventure, but there were a few moments that really caught me off guard.

One week in I looked up from my desk to find the teachers room completely deserted. A small Japanese child came in to ask for.... something. I flexed my Nihongo muscles and said in broken Japanese "sorry... where are teachers?" He either did not know or more likely I was not saying what I thought I was. We stared at each other for an awkwardly long amount of time, neither able to cross the linguistic gap between us, before he eventually ran away. Turns out there was a staff meeting and no one thought to invite me. For two hours. Afterwards the Japanese English teacher who looks after me said she would pass on anything I needed to know. There was nothing to pass on.

Then of course there was Japanese sports day. In England sports day is just another day, except you wear your P.E. kit all day. People run, get heat stroke, then go home. In Japan they prepare throughout their summer holidays, coming into school to make banners, learn cheers, and practice events. 

The "cheers" are 8 minute choreographed routines created completely by the students - which doesn't seem impressive until you see four 3rd years trying to teach over 100 students the words and moves that they made up. Unfortunately Segun (Blue team) who I was cheering for lost, but they came closer to winning than they have in about four years. For my unwavering support, the students threw me up in the air and cheered. I have never felt so fulfilled. I think next year is our year.

Things didn't really get strange till afterwards. In Japan there are work parties called "Enkai" which are only slightly less than mandatory. Like most nights out I have had in Japan it was Nomihoudai, which basically means "all-you-can-drink" within a certain time limit. Honestly, this system would not work in the UK because people would abuse it, but here it is the cheapest way to drink. Want sake? Sure. More beer? Let me bring you three. Sounds all good so far - except the enkai was at the local onsen.

For those of you who don’t know, onsens are basically public baths built on natural hot springs. Not only was it my first time in an onsen, I was also not informed that the onsen was an optional segment of the enkai. The result was me, the principle, and the grounds keeper trying to make small talk about the fishing industry naked with very little common language. Thank god I’m half blind without my glasses - although I still caught Kocho-sensei taking a peek. It was far less awkward than I expected.

Bros

Afterwards the principle and I shared a bottle of sake at the nomihoudai and talked the night away. I worried that maybe it was only the alcohol, and when we went back to school he would almost certainly resume his role as the distant authoritarian figure. However I caught his eye over Tuesdays morning’s assembly and I swear I saw a small smirk. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I can’t speak or read Japanese, I have no idea how to teach elementary school children, and sometimes I eat in restaurants alone because supermarket shopping in Japan overwhelms me too much. But for all the moaning that I have done here, which could basically be summarised as "culture shock - its real", not all the little surprises are bad. Turns out the Japanese English teachers are mostly very supportive, the other Gaijin love to drink too, and there are places I can drink my fill for £12 - as long as I can drink it in under two hours. What’s not to love?

My Body Clock is Broken

So it's 4am on the second night of the JET Tokyo orientation, and although I am exhausted in both mind and body, I have so much left over nervous energy that I can't rest. And also both of my roommates are sleep talking. With a strange amount of broken Japanese thrown in. I swear one of them is having Nam flashbacks. As I am unable to join them in their overly-active dreams, I figured writing this would smooth out some tension and I could slip off into blissful slumber.

The orientation has mainly just been disorientating. There is just a river of names and places and hometowns, next to none of which I have any hope of remembering. I seem to catch myself telling the same stories to the same people because I've forgotten who I've told them to before. They are either just as disorientated as I am, or are too polite to tell me to shut up.

I have managed to pluck a few names and faces from the torrent, all of which have been nice enough to pretend my jokes are funny and aid my speech when sleep deprivation has gotten the better of my sentence construction. This evening we struck out from the hotel into Shinjuku with the hope of grabbing a few drinks. As my mother said the other day, there are some times when only beer can quench your thirst.* No one had any clue where we were going and the humidity was getting to everyone. Group relations became frayed, factions formed, leaders rose and fell. I think someone started crying. One group settled on somewhere where you had to buy a salad or something to get a drink. A restaurant basically.

A hardy few travellers soldiered on until we stumbled upon a basement bar that I don't think had been stumbled upon in many years. 1920's jazz played in the corner, followed shortly by a beauty and the beast cover. The bar was empty except for a bar maid and waiter who spoke no English and had a collective age of 140. We managed to order beer, sake filled to the brim, and Shōchū with the help of a woman in a Kimono that came to our rescue. They even brought over complimentary nuts and buttered toast. I don't know if it's the jet lag induced lack of sleep (pun intended), but I'm starting to think I dreamed the whole thing. I'll go back tomorrow and it won't be there. Anyway, my roommates have finally shut up, so I should probably take the chance and grab some shut eye. Oyasuminasai


*Disclaimer: My mother will read this and tell me off for making her sound like an alcoholic, so I'm preempting her panic - she rarely drinks at all, and when she does it's usually a half... or a gin and tonic.

When Friends Eat Together God Smiles

It’s taken a while but things have started happening again, which is convenient because I’d run out of things to write about. I go to Japan in less than a month now. When I applied about eight months ago it was a kind of abstract “how cool would it be to live in Japan?”, but now it’s getting closer I am at some point going to have to come to terms with the fact that this really is going to happen. The problem is I can’t particularly imagine myself in this foreign place full of foreign things going about my life as normal.

How Low is Too Low?- a beginners guide to bowing


Help is on the way! This week I go down to London for my pre-departure orientation. Two days training and then I’m supposedly ready to be unleashed on a classroom of children who can’t understand what I’m saying. The itinerary looks to have a singular one hour workshop on how to teach, a whole bunch of introductions from people we will never hear from again, and a short course on how to avoid insulting Japanese people by putting your hands in your pockets. I'm pumped. To be honest though I'm more looking forward to meeting all the other ALTs in exactly the same situation as me. Charging into the unknown is fun as long as there is a bunch of you doing it. Otherwise it’s just me sat in a flat trying to get the wi-fi to work with nothing to help me but a manual in Japanese. This may still happen, but at least now it will become a witty anecdote I can tell my ALT friends at the local sake bar. Which is presumably a thing.

"I am in trouble now"

I have also received more news on both the housing situation and the schools I will be working at. I received a hilarious if not slightly worrying email from my supervisor on the Japan side in broken english which contained the line “I am in trouble now.” Turns out my predecessors building is being destroyed and they don't know where to put me. I have been given the option of either living in a private apartment in Joetsu City or living in Yasuzuka – a very small village that gets heavy snow in the winter, and is 45 minutes away from anything of note. I’m all for immersion, but have chickened out and taken the swanky bachelor pad in the slightly bigger city.

As for schools, I am based at Itakura Junior High School (12-15 year olds) as well as visits to four elementary schools (6-12 year olds) and another junior high School. I am tentative about the elementary schools, especially as I haven’t spoken to anyone under the age of 15 in about 5 years. I tried to do some scouting of Itakura JHS, but all I managed to find was this website that I can't read,

http://www.itakura-j.jorne.ed.jp/

and this Google maps image of children outside the school. I think they are running because they love their school and their teachers and are well behaved and love to learn English. Everything is going to be fine.

Fish Egg Curry

On a side note, I have finished my volunteering. A strange part of teaching I had never thought about before is getting to know and befriend students who you are never going to meet again a term later. After my final lesson, my favourite Bangladeshi man invited me round for lunch – which turned out to be a banquet for one including a satkora curry, a fish egg curry, lentil soup, spicy side salad and all the rice I could eat. I had no option but to have seconds of everything. I then had to find a hole for two different desserts. The wife was very pleased with herself. To top it all off at the end of the meal he said something adorable like “In my religion, when friends eat together God smiles”. Stomach bulging, tears barely contained, we shook hands for the final time and hugged like men. His wife looked on disapprovingly.

The Joys of Adult Learners - Zoos, Division, and Long Baths

As the whole JET thing doesn't really get going till July, I'm going to talk about what I am doing to pass the time. One day soon I will be faced with a sea of Japanese school children, the names of which I will have no hope of remembering. For now I'm making do with teaching adults. I don't remember half their names either - not because I don’t care – I'm just really bad with names.

Zoos

So I started as a volunteer teaching assistant in January, which coincidentally gave me some experience to talk about in my JET interview. At first my motivation was purely selfish, but I've stayed on after getting a placement because I'm really starting to enjoy it. The focus is less on grammar and more on 'life skills', so I spend the first hour of each lesson just chatting to people about their week. I am now excellent at small talk. The students are incredibly motivated immigrants who are trying to either get out of factory work or be able to talk to their children in English. The majority come straight from the fish factory to learn English for two hours in evening classes, or are on the night shift and get one or two hours sleep before dragging themselves to day classes. Which makes me feel even guiltier when I show up five minutes late for a 12:30 class because I overslept.

I have begun to develop favorites - the grey-haired Bangladeshi man in my Tuesday class takes top spot. He was the only male in a class of 20, so when I arrived he was overjoyed at having some backup. The first time I met him he tried to bribe me with home cooked curry into giving him some private tutoring. He always calls me sir, and is willing to interrupt any conversation with his opinion about the decreasing fish stocks in the rivers of Bangladesh. His wife is also in the class. They regularly argue in Bengali while the class continues around them. He cannot pronounce 'Z's, which led to the most awkward teaching moment to date when he announced that he hated Jews.

Division

I have also picked up a real paying job that pays real money. It's two days a week for minimum wage, but I'm not picky. I was lured in with promises of English tutoring, but spend almost all my time marking maths papers. The learners are job seekers trying to get GCSE Maths and English equivalents. Sometimes (for instance when a student cannot conceptualize division or negative numbers) it is possibly the hardest job in the world. Because although you can make 12 little bits of paper and split them up into 4 piles of three, it becomes a bit more difficult with 1000 ÷ 5. There just isn't enough time or paper.

As for my leisure time I have managed to 'borrow' someone else's Netflix account, and Season 2 of Orange is the New Black just got added. Who needs weekend plans? Might take a bath. I don't know if I'll have one in Japan, so I've been taking long ones daily just in case.

Going to Japan

So I've found out where I have been placed in Japan, which has made the whole "teaching English abroad" thing seem very real and scary. I've decided to write a blog because that's what people do when they go abroad, and maybe it will calm me down a little. A Little introduction: I'm from Grimsby, and I am going on the JET programme to teach English. They have placed me in Joetsu City.

Why I Was Freaking Out

a) The Wikipedia page for Joetsu City is worryingly sparse. Even Grimsby (which deserves its grim title) has a larger one. All I can gather is that Uesugi Kenshin was based there in the 1500's. People used to think that he was a reincarnation of the Buddhist god of war Bishamonten, so at least there is some good news.

b) The population density is 211.15 people per km². To put that in perspective, there are 828 people per km² in North East Lincolnshire. So although there are 205,521 people there, its all very spread out. It doesn't sound like the monstrous blade-runner-esque cities I had always assumed Japan was made up of. 

c) I've read a lot of blogs recently about living in Japan, and all of them agree on one thing. I am and always will be treated as a foreigner who cant speak Japanese, eat with chopsticks, or order food for themselves. Just because two of these things happen to be completely true doesn't mean I'm looking forward to always being 'White Richard from England'. However this is just the tip of a much larger iceberg. I worry I am going to be extremely lonely. In a miniature room. A miniature but extremely messy room.

Why I Calmed Down

I don't want this to all be doom and gloom - there's plenty of time for that later. Although I am a little nervous about the whole thing, I am also extremely excited.

a) England sometimes gets a bit cold and sometimes gets a bit hot, but on the whole there are few places in the world that are so temperate. Japan is not like that. Summer is so hot you have to bring a towel with you to wipe your face, winter is so cold that it wont be weird if I wear a woolly hat everywhere, and spring is full of cherry blossoms. I'm not sure about Autumn. In summary, I'm really looking forward to a climate that isn't grey with a chance of light rainfall 90% of the time. My main worry right now is whether there truly is such a thing as a cool ski jacket. I have yet to see one.

b) The extreme seasons are complemented by a beach for the summer and mountains (with lots and lots of snowboarding!) for the winter. I cannot ask for more. As long as I am not alone doing these things. No where is more depressing than a beach if you are on your bill, and Snowboarding alone would probably lead to me being found frozen to death weeks later  because I took a wrong turn.

c) Something like 100 JET participants are placed in the Niigata prefecture, so at least we can all be alone together. Of that 100 over 50 will be from the US, but I'll take what I can get.