I overslept this morning. I keep my laptop set to Utah-time but my iPod and cell phone set to Japan-time. This is never a problem, except that anytime after I charge my iPod, I have to remember to set it back to Japan-time, since I use my iPod as my alarm clock. Apparently, I forgot to change the time zone last night... Luckily, I naturally wake early now and so I still had time to get ready, study, and head out the door unfrazzled. In fact, I left my apartment earlier than usual and headed off to the train station!
By the way, I mentioned in my last post that I moved to be closer to my main school, Miyagi First. However, not everyone may remember that one day a week, I work at a special-needs school called Nishitaga Shien and my daily commute on Tuesdays is now close to four hours... wahoo! This long commute involves hopping on a train, transferring to a subway, eventually switching to a bus, and then walking to my school. I leave extra room in my commute for all the different systems to overlap in case one is running earlier or later than usual and have never had a problem...until today.
I savored the extra time I gave myself at the train station by starting a new book while I waited. I saw a train pull up a couple minutes earlier than normal and hopped on, glad that I had given myself extra time. However, once the train lurched forward, I realized, much to my horror, that the train was heading away from the subway station...I had boarded the wrong train! I began to panic—a little—but also couldn’t help but smile at my negligence. I knew that I would be able to make up the lost time by getting off at the next stop and waiting for the right train to pass by there on its way to my usual pick-up station. Since there was only one track, I knew that the right train couldn’t have gone without me, so I stepped off a few minutes later, waited again, and calmly went back to my reading...
Sure enough, the correct train stopped by and I was on my way to the subway station without delay. There, I entered the station and hurried to my usual platform...just as the subway was leaving... My heart almost sank, but I knew that panicking on the platform wouldn’t do any good, so I quickly scanned the surrounding platforms and found one that I thought made a stop at my destination along its way. I raced up and then down a couple flights of stairs to the next platform and hopped on before it pulled away; I asked a woman next to me if the subway was heading to “Nagamachi” and she nodded. (I didn’t want to board the wrong train twice in one morning!) Phew! This morning kept trying to be a disaster, but I smiled and offered a quiet prayer of thanks that the obstacles were quickly working themselves out.
I got of the subway and ran down the street to my bus stop. Just before I reached the crosswalk, the light changed and I had to wait anxiously to cross the busy intersection. Helplessly, I watched my bus pull up to my stop as I waited just across the road... I groaned but quickly assured myself that another bus would come soon. I knew there were several buses running the same route in the early mornings, still had 45 minutes before I needed to be at work, and was determined not to become so easily discouraged.
Another bus came but after checking with a woman at the stop, I learned that it was not the right bus. Not a problem, Karianne. Your bus will come. Another bus did come, but the woman shook her head at me and motioned for me to stay put. It’s ok, I still have 40 minutes...good thing I brought my book! A few minutes later, a third bus approached us, she smiled and nodded and I eagerly hopped on.
I always ask someone to confirm that the bus I am about to board is actually headed for where I want to go because I cannot read Kanji and even if I have waited at the same bus stop at the same time heading for the same place, I have mistakenly boarded buses that were just minutes ahead or behind schedule and therefore at the right place at the wrong time. I therefore openly trust the word of those around me and so it didn’t even occur to me that I could be accidentally misled to board an incorrect bus...until about 10 minutes later...when I recognized nothing around me and really began feeling pretty certain that something was wrong.
Maybe this is just taking a different route, but it will end up at the same stop, I tried telling myself... Several dreadful minutes passed and I became more and more convinced that we were definitely not heading anywhere near where I wanted to go... I walked to the front of the bus at the next stop and asked the bus driver if he was ever going to stop by my stop, praying that he would say yes and dispel my fears.
He said no. Excellent.
I ignored the knot in my stomach and politely asked if he could tell me the general direction I needed to head in to get there. He signaled to the next street and said that there was a bus stop there, where I could change buses and get back on my way. YES! Another almost-mishap that was working itself out this morning! I almost skipped to the next street and felt so much better—until I got to the street...and realized that there was no bus stop...anywhere. Seriously? I laughed out loud at this point. What else could I have done but burst into tears?
Normally by this time, I would be at my desk, granted I always get there about 30 minutes before classes begin, but I have never been this “late” to work...and I was in the middle of a residential neighborhood somewhere in Japan and I was about as sure of where I was in relation to my school as, well, nothing. I wasn’t sure at all about anything other than the glaring fact that I was terribly lost. I began retracing the bus route, looking for someone to ask or some business to enter. Nothing.
My mind raced for options. Call your company and explain the situation. They will be able to help you and be able to notify your school that you are coming. I called the main office twice, my manager twice, and the cell phone number of someone I knew worked in the office just for good measure. No one answered...
I began wondering when one should give up optimism and accept doom when I saw a Japanese woman standing outside her shop and felt restored with hope that she could help me. She didn’t recognize the name of my school, but she was vaguely familiar with the hospital that is right next door. I knew that if I could find the hospital, I could find Nishitaga Shien. She offered me a very detailed explanation of something that I’m sure would have been valuable if I could have understood her, but she gestured several times toward a hill in the opposite direction, so I decided my best bet would be to head that way and hope that I eventually ran into something familiar.
After several minutes of running/walking in the rain, I came across a group of construction workers and repeated the name of the hospital, hoping against hope that they would confirm my earlier instruction. I was almost surprised as they nodded and pointed down the road I was already on and said to just keep going straight. Hopeful that things were finally turning around, I rushed on my way.
Just 15 minutes before the bell, I finally arrived at the end of the road. I could see the hospital and a warm rush of relief flowed through me. Wait...is that...a...river?! A river... Are you kidding me? I stood on the side of the road for a few moments in disbelief at the irony of being within sight of my school, and still having no idea how to get there. There was a freaking river my way!
I was in awe at that point at how many times I had been unintentionally misled in a single morning. I wasn’t sad or angry, just utterly dumbfounded ha ha. Then, I saw a Japanese man walking along the road. Just as I was beginning to ask him for help, my phone rang and a woman from the office said that she got my call and asked if I had found my way to the school yet. I explained where I was and handed the phone to the man so that she could explain the situation in Japanese. A minute later, he handed me my phone and dashed away. I stood in confusion for a few moments until I saw him returning...in his car! He motioned for me to get inside and I hopped in faster than a child being offered car-full of candy; I felt pretty sure that somewhere in that whole “avoiding strangers” lesson as a child that there had to be an exception for times you were on the other side of the world and completely lost and had 10 minutes to get to first period...
The man explained to me in broken English that he recognized me because his daughter goes to Miyagi First (where I usually teach) and he had seen me at some school events! I couldn’t believe it! He knew how to get to Nishitaga Shien from where we were and quickly winded through the roads and over a bridge toward the other side of the bank. We pulled up to my school and I could have fallen to the ground in tears of gratitude...and may have, had I had the extra minutes to spare. I repeated my thanks to him incessantly in Japanese and English, and retreated as quickly as I could into the school while bowing and thanking and skittering away. I bolted up the stairs, dropped off my bags, grabbed my books, and darted to my classroom.
Upon arrival, the Japanese teacher told me that she had decided last-minute to change the lesson and asked if I could please discard my lesson plans and teach something new. I almost erupted into laughter but really, nothing could have surprised me at that point and I was so beyond any ability to be affected by chaotic twists in my plans, that I smiled and assured her it would be no trouble at all. I would just have to run back to my desk and pull out an entire lesson plan from the air and be back in a few minutes...which I did. The hour passed painlessly, all my morning mishaps quickly faded into nothing more than distant blurs, and my day proceeded splendidly.
On my way back to the teacher’s room at the end of the day, I heard someone playing a guitar in a classroom down the hall and poked my head in to listen. It was Haruka—one of my darling high-school boys! He loves the guitar and I try to incorporate some sort of music application into every lesson with him, but I have never had the chance to hear him play. I was thrilled! I asked if I could listen to him practice and he readily agreed, playing an original song that he has been perfecting for the school’s festival next week. Haruka cannot walk or sit up on his own, but he can play the guitar despite minor deformities in his arms and hands and his limited range of motion. Even with all these obstacles, Haruka absolutely loves the guitar and his face illuminated once he began strumming the strings. I listened, enraptured by his performance and clapped vigorously in approval at the end. I left the room in awe of his example and felt overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for my life and for my day.
My way home included several more little miracles and I realized all over again at how significant the little things can be. I got on the right bus back to the subway station and decided to enter a little shop I had never noticed before. There, I found lots of fresh fruit and vegetables and purchased my first Japanese pear! Then, as I was about to enter the train station, I was stopped by an eager teenage boy who radiated with joy as he rattled off the standard English greetings he had evidently studied in school. My heart was so touched by his openness.
I want my students to have the confidence to approach foreigners and speak in English, so it always makes me extra happy when I get stopped this way. I heard the subway approaching the station but realized all over again what mattered to me and what didn’t...and with this little boy trying so hard to practice his English before me, I didn’t care one bit about whether or not I missed my train. There would be more trains, but there would not be more opportunities to encourage this youth to continue his English study and to connect with a fellow human being. Soon, he exhausted his English vocabulary and we went on about our different ways. He was beaming and I could have danced up the stairs.
By the time I got home that evening, I had run through the events of the day several times in my mind and I was amazed all over again at how much could have really gone wrong and at how many times I could have been completely defeated, letting frustration take control...but then how many of my little miracles may I have overlooked or brushed off in unnecessary distemper?
Holy cow, I can’t believe how lucky I am. I am so thankful that everything went wrong this morning because it deepened my love even more for this country and the people around me and taught me a valuable lesson to be more aware of my surroundings and schedule. I feel blessed that I had wiggle-room in my commute and will be more cautious next week as I make the same trek to school. This morning I was in a constant battle with myself to keep negatives thoughts from consuming me (I guess we all fight this battle every day)...but this morning I didn’t give in... I’m so grateful for that. I know there will be times that my emotions will get the best of me and I will be feeling too sorry for myself to see the blessings around me, but oh, I hope those moments are few and that they pass quickly. I don’t want to waste a minute wallowing in selfish misery... What good does it possibly do me?
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| Haruka-kun :-) |
