a little tuesday-morning mayhem

September 21, 2010

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?

Haruka-kun :-)

some like it hot

Monday September 6, 2010

Autumn is almost upon us! While time seems to be fleeting faster than I would like, I am very excited to experience fall in Sendai. Sendai is noted as one of the “greenest cities” in Japan and so I’m hoping that it becomes one of the "'reddest,' ‘orangest,’ and ‘goldest’ cities” as well! Also, maybe the season change will bring more comfortable temperatures for this American girl. I love it hot, but Humidity and I are not the closest of friends, and since I know Humidity isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, I will settle for milder temperatures to increase my comfort level to some degree.

The sun rises around 4:30 in the morning here and so by the time I’m heading off to Miyagi First High School on my bike a few hours later, it’s already pretty warm outside, usually around 85°. Consequently, I arrive with my blood already pumping and then proceed to work in a building brimming with occupants, ever-increasing temperatures, and zero air-conditioning. The inside of the school is considerably hotter and more stagnant that the outside air (105° or more on a mild day), but I’ve found various methods to keep myself from melting (including stashing mini-ice packs against me while sitting at my desk and regularly enjoying some ice cream at lunch time). However, it isn’t until my trek back home that I really start to get uncomfortable these days.

I suppose it would help to stop and clarify here that I have moved and am now living in a lovely apartment nearer to Miyagi First. The downside? This cozy little abode happens to be perched atop a ridiculous hill…and I mean hill. The entire neighborhood is rather hilly, actually, and so I can count on having to trudge my bike up some slope somewhere no matter where I’m going or where I’ve been. I love it once I’m home, but I sort of curse myself for moving here each time I’m pushing my bike up a hill I can no longer bike with beads of sweat trickling down the lines of my body.

Once I get through my door, I’m tugging impatiently at my clothes because I can’t stand to be in them even one more uncomfortably humid second. Ha ha maybe I shouldn’t admit all this, but as we have already established, I was basically created without much propriety and, in all fairness, I guess all readers here were warned upon being welcomed to my blog that it would be uncensored...

Anyway, I hate feeling like I’m marinating in my business clothes and so I’ve adjusted to cooling off however I can—and in the privacy of my air-conditioned apartment (thank goodness for air conditioning!), that means removing every single layer as quickly as I can! I actually giggled a little to myself the other day as I was trekking up my hill in a silk blouse, pearls, and heels, when I realized that the same thought that motivates me to get up that hill every afternoon has got to be the same mantra every groom repeats to himself to endure each painful wedding reception hour, “Just a little longer until the clothes come off; just a little longer until the clothes come off!” ha ha, dear poor groom: I know exactly what you mean...

Still, I would always rather be uncomfortably warm than uncomfortably cold and I’m hoping that these hotter-than-normal temperatures continue for the rest of my time in Japan because if fall and winter are warmer than usual, there is a chance that I’ll survive until next spring! This spring was so cold I was legitimately concerned that I was going to turn into a human popsicle…so I’m crossing my fingers for a mild winter this time around!

Regardless of the heat, things are as busy and wonderful as ever here in Sendai. Last weekend was my school’s bunka sai, or culture festival, and it was an absolute blast. My darling students never cease to amaze me and I want to post pictures from the festival, as well as some of my new home! I will make time to update soon, but in the meantime, I should probably just throw on some clothes and go make dinner.

Thank you for reading!

stella

Wednesday August 18, 2010

I can’t believe I’m finishing off my last week of summer vacation; school begins again bright and early Monday morning! It’s been a pleasant month of incredible sights, tender experiences, and cherished companions, but I am excited to see my students and coworkers again! My first week back is definitely going to keep me busy though—I have a few hours of private English lessons after work on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings, then Thursday I have Language Club with my students (he he), and after work on Friday, I’m moving!

I would proudly announce the new location of my soon-to-be-home, but I’m still not sure where that will be. I have narrowed it down to two apartments, but haven’t made a final decision yet. Either way, my contract is up here at the Guesthouse on the 27th of this month, so I will be moving out here on Friday night and settling into my new place on Saturday! Then on Sunday, I am giving a talk in Sacrament Meeting and then teaching the Gospel Doctrine lesson in Sunday School—then it is back to work on Monday morning! Needless to say, I have a lot of lesson-planning to accomplish in the next several days! It’s a good thing I like to keep busy, huh? :-) I should probably start packing, too...

Anyway, there are a lot of emotions and thoughts stewing in my head and heart right now (my last journal entry was 35 pages...!), but I keep thinking of a particular experience that I want to share and I’m not even sure why. It was meaningful to me, but to be honest, I feel a little childish in sharing it. Ha ha oh well, I promised to offer my experiences openly, so you are!

Well, I was biking home like usual, when I decided to stop by a local supermarket to pick up some groceries. As I neared the store, I noticed a butterfly that had landed on my shoulder, but I’m not sure how long "she" had been there. (Non-gender-specific pronouns have always seemed so impersonal to me, so I deemed this little creature a she. lol) I began walking into the store but was afraid that she would get trapped inside, so I shrugged a bit in an attempt to gently coax her away, but she didn’t budge. I waited a few moments and decided to snap a picture of her. Even with the camera right next to her, she didn’t flinch, so I decided to walk into the store. I meandered through the aisles, checking my shoulder periodically, and sure enough, she stayed there the entire time.

Outside the store

I don’t know why it comforted me, but I smiled each time I looked down and saw this little butterfly perched peacefully on my sleeve. I decided to call her Stella. :-) I purchased my groceries, walked outside the store, and hopped back on my bike, certain that she would flutter away once I began moving and bumping along the road to get back home. Much to my surprise, I pulled up to my apartment and there she was, still resting on my shoulder, it almost as though she had been guiding me home. Once I arrived back at my building, my friend approached me and it wasn’t until he did so that she finally flew off.

I have never seen a butterfly behave that way—it was the strangest thing—but there was something so serenely delicate about it somehow. To look down and see something so small and fragile so close to me, completely unthreatened by me, almost as though this tiny creature was protecting me somehow...it was beautiful.

Anyway, that’s a really random experience, but it just impressed me and made me aware all over again about the precious daily miracles that surround all of us. I have often been teased that I am like a butterfly in a meadow, constantly "fluttering around to see all the different flowers everywhere," but I guess I’m ok with being that way. I know I want to see everything and experience everything, but how could I not when there is so much beauty and mystery around me? Sometimes I wonder if we are ever really aware of how blessed we are to be alive. Do we ever really understand the gift of every, every moment? I suppose it’s due in part to recent tendernesses that have surrounded me—whether in the form of paper cranes or butterfly wings, but I hope to pay more attention to the fragile things...the delicate miracles...because they truly are remarkable.

the power of paper cranes

Thursday August 5, 2010

My summer vacation is FLYING so I wanted to write a quick update before I blink and I’m back at work! I kicked of the summer vacation by climbing Mt. Fuji with my friends Tyla and Tauna…what an incredible experience! I was a little nervous before we left because I had been warned repeatedly by those around me about the intensity of the endeavor and worried that I was ridiculously unprepared. My coworkers were literally worried for my life…but to be honest, it was a breeze! I don’t know why everyone was so worried; people were hiking in full mountain gear—oxygen tanks and everything—I didn’t even bring a coat because I couldn’t fit it in my backpack!

It was a long hike and my legs were a little sore the day after from hours and hours of hiking, but most of the discomfort came from the descent. I’ve had problems with my right knee ever since my 2005 car accident and “walking” (more like sliding) down a mountainside hour after hour took its toll, but it wasn’t like it was hard. I genuinely enjoyed the entire experience and I was continually amazed by the beauty around me. I soaked up every minute and loved every shade of the spectacular sunrise in the morning light. It was unlike anything else I have ever seen in my life and I don’t know how anyone could walk away from that mountain without a knowledge of the existence of God. The beauty there was definitely beyond the capacities of this world.

When I came back to Sendai, I found an email from my mom announcing that my dad and she were planning a last-minute visit to Sendai!!!! The plan was to leave America on August 4th (arriving here August 5th) and then travel with me until the 13th. I got SO excited that I haven’t really slept in a week; I can only describe it as perma-Christmas-Eve-syndrome. Then, my dear friend Jason told me that he was going to join my parents! I went from expecting no visitors to expecting three! Wahoo! My parents left for a vacation to my family’s cabin and we planned to work out the final details when they returned on Monday. Unfortunately, a bit of a bump arose that changed our plans…my mom became quite ill.

Basically, my mom has had problems with pain in her legs her whole life and when she got pregnant with twins about 27 years ago, everything got much worse. A vein ruptured in her leg and for as long as I can remember my mom I can remember the open wound on her leg. It would take between two to three years to heal at a time and the size and severity of the wound would fluctuate, but it was always there. It has been closed up for some time now, but my mom noticed a small red line on the skin there as she left for vacation. The line grew over the next several days until it became a large and open wound. She became physically ill and quite feverish from the infection and went to the doctor upon returning to Utah. Her doctor feared that it could be gangrene and directed my mom to go to a wound center.

I won’t go into gruesome details, but my mom showed me her leg on Skype and, well, it looked like gangrene to me, too. She couldn’t stand or walk, let alone wander around with me around Sendai and we knew that there would be no way she could make the trip… :-( The doctors cleared out much of the infection and it has to be dressed and treated each day, but my mom said her fever has been going down and she is making progress. She told the doctors that she wanted to come to Japan to visit her daughter and they told her that maybe it would be healed enough to come visit me…next Spring…sooooo that’s the plan!

To be completely honest, I was heartbroken to hear the news. More than anything, I was just flat-out worried about my momma! I really got my hopes up to see her and to see my dad though; I told everyone that would listen that my parents were coming and I know it would have been SO fun to have them here.

Still, I KNOW better than to let this discourage me. I absolutely know that everything happens for a reason, everything. I realize that I don’t know the whole story and that there are blessings in this change that I may or may not ever come to understand in this life. Still, a few huge blessings have already shone blaringly through my initial disappointment. First of all, it is incredibly fortunate that my mom got sick just before coming to Japan rather than during her visit here. Also, my friend Jason is still coming out to visit and I know we will have a blast exploring Japan together!

One unexpected blessing was a renewal of my love and gratitude for those around me here in Sendai. Once I told my landlord that my parents were no longer going to be able to make the trip (of course she and the other tenants here were all aware of the impending visit), she left the room, quickly returning with a box of origami paper. Without a word, she began folding the paper and motioned for me to do the same. I have never folded origami in my life, but I did my best to follow her steps. Soon enough, I had created a tiny paper crane! She handed me a large stack of paper squares and motioned that I continue, then left the room again.

I obediently, though clumsily, continued to fold the paper, wondering if she thought this would help distract me or something from the disappointing news of my parents. I was wrong! She returned with a small book explaining the Japanese custom of sen-ba-zuru. The crane is a symbol of long life in Japan and send-ba-zuru is the presentation of 1,000 origami cranes to someone that is ill in order to help that person get well. She put her hand over her heart and through broken English explained to me that she hoped my “momma” would be “OK soon.” My heart was deeply touched again by her kindness and soon a couple other residents sat at the table to help me make cranes for my momma. It was a beautiful and humbling experience… I don’t know that we made 1,000, but we folded for hours and I felt the Lord with me, delicately replacing feelings of sadness with profound gratitude one paper crane at a time. Of course I wish my parents could still make it, but I am far too blessed to be unhappy about it…there really is just too much goodness in my life and I know that the Lord has a purpose behind this change so, really, what do I have to be upset about? Just as fear cannot exist where there is faith, surely unhappiness cannot dwell where there is gratitude.

Oh no, I have been rambling again! I better get off my computer screen—I still have much to do before Jason gets here TONIGHT! There is a huge festival in Sendai this weekend called the Tanabata festival and they are holding an opening ceremony tonight with what I am told will be a marvelous firework display! I know that all will be well and that my mom is under great care but, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate any prayer on her behalf that you may have time to offer. I sure love my momma and I believe in the power of “paper cranes” in all forms. Thank you!

journal entry #14 - a day in the life of kari sensei, english teacher!

Friday July 23, 2010

After school today, a group of my cute freshmen girls will rehearse a skit with me that they wrote for an English competition. We have read, modified, practiced, and re-modified this skit for weeks. They even recorded my voice as I model-read the entire dialogue line by line so that they could “perfect” their pronunciation!

I stand back in adoration and watch them shine, only giving correction and input when they request it and only if I think avoiding the correction would hurt their overall performance. I don’t want any of me in this skit because they have done a marvelous job on their own—and I want to preserve the integrity of their creativity. They already passed the first round of the competition and are now preparing for the Regional level. I was so happy for them that it felt like I won when they told me they made it through and now I am eagerly anticipating their final competition in August. I wish we had more time, but the semester ended on Wednesday and I am just finishing up the week before I begin my own summer break.

I can’t believe that today is my last day of work for about a month! I am excited to visit with friends and explore Japan, but to be honest, I’m kinda bummed… wait, did I really just say that? Yeah, it’s true. There is SO much I want to see in Japan and I know that “time off” is going to keep me just as busy as my work-week anyway, but I am genuinely going to miss my coworkers and students…

Teaching these students is unlike anything else I’ve ever done before in my life and it is simultaneously the hardest and easiest job I’ve had. Lesson-planning requires more preparatory work than I’ve ever had to do in the past, but the actual teaching part doesn’t even feel like work to me. I cannot help but beam with delight as I enter each classroom and the time flies by when I’m delivering my lessons. Miyagi First is very rigorous so the students are dedicated and try to learn the material, which always helps make teaching more enjoyable/effective.

Still, I have several "class clowns" or the typical kids that try to act indifferent to everything and avoid eye contact because they think it's cool to blow off school...but it turns out that these ones are kinda my favorites, he he. I love forcing smiles on their faces and it's almost like a game. For example, there is a boy in one of my classes that always sits in the back corner and tries to just stare out the window or something—so, in his class, I always try to have one activity at the beginning of the lesson that forces everyone to get UP out of their seats and interact with each other somehow.

Some of the students are tired and relatively unresponsive when class begins, but when they get moving like this they are all laughing and enjoying talking in English within the first few minutes...and I wander through the students during the activity and always make a point to speak directly with (and praise) those students that are trying the hardest to avoid learning...they can't help but smile when I act more like their peer than their teacher and then they are like clay in my hands for the next 45 minutes.

In these activities, they are speaking in, listening to, and studying English without even realizing that they're learning and I just love it. It is so much fun to teach because it actually feels like I'm helping someone, I guess. This isn't something I just do alone in my home or office that doesn't directly affect anyone. I love seeing that light go on in a child's face when he or she finally gets what I'm trying to teach and I love it when i see confidence begin to build in “my kids” when something they once dismissed as impossible or useless transforms and they begin to see the value and fun of discovering another language. It’s impossible for me to go home at the end of the workday without a smile...even if it's a tired one!

I know that I’m going to have an incredible few weeks of travel and play, but I know I will still walk out of these doors today with a tender heart; I don’t know how I got so lucky. I live in a beautiful city full of genuinely good people that have carried me. I work in an uplifting and dynamic atmosphere, surrounded by intimidatingly intelligent coworkers that have guided me...and best of all? I teach something I love every day to bright and receptive students, edified continually by their individual gifts.

Several of my beautiful freshmen girls just before a school-wide musical performance. They were AMAZING!

journal entry #13 - a day in the life of kari san, gaijin adventurist

Saturday July 3, 2010

I decided not to set my alarm this morning so that I could sleep in as late as I wanted! I finally gave up by about 5:30 though and jumped out of futon (which is like jumping out of bed, but on the floor...)! I cleaned my luxurious 30-square-foot mansion, ran a couple loads of laundry, delved into some routine personal study, and caught up on a few other things I hadn’t had time to finish during the work-week. I then tossed some snacks, books, my journal, camera, and a couple extra knick-knacks into my backpack and set out to explore a bit more of Sendai! It was supposed to be a weekend of non-stop thunderstorms, but I woke up to nothing more than a soft drizzle and decided to explore, hoping the weather would hold.

I had heard about a temple that sits high on a hill near my apartment with a great view of the city and decided to check it out. After walking up the hill for about 10 minutes, I reached the base of the first flight of stairs…here is a pic!

Stairway to Japanese Heaven

Once I got to the top, I saw the city through the trees and suddenly felt as though I were sneaking a peek of the city from a high-rise, secret hiding place. I snapped a few shots and stopped several times to take a closer look at the vibrant foliage and historical architecture that lined the grounds. There were several small shrine-like buildings all around and a larger building that lay directly beyond the gate. The area looked much like a Buddhist temple I saw a couple weeks ago, but I am not absolutely certain as to whether or not it was.

Sneak-"peak" of Sendai

Almost immediately, a sweet old woman approached me and signaled for me to follow her around the grounds. She didn’t speak more than a few words of English, but she was clearly accustomed to the proper rituals and I just stood near her and mimicked whatever she did and said. After we washed our hands in what I recognized as holy water from my last temple visit, we approached what I assumed to be the main temple building. She tossed some coins for me into what looked like a metal alter of some sort and we bowed, clapped twice, rang large bells by swinging the attached rope to and fro, and bowed again to the opened temple doors. I wanted to walk up the temple steps and explore inside, but I wasn’t sure whether or not that was allowed, so I just followed her toward an open gazebo with several benches that overlooked Sendai. She pulled out a book of kanji images and I got the impression that she draws Japanese calligraphy professionally. I was amazed by her openness because many Japanese people are hesitant to approach gaijin, or foreigners, especially older people. She rattled off to me in Japanese for a few minutes and I nodded, smiled, and “ooh-ed” as she turned through the pages of her book—I didn’t have to feign interest or enjoyment because I genuinely found the entire situation intriguing and beautiful.

She then apologized for taking my time, bowed, thanked me for talking with her, and trotted off back to the grounds’ entrance and down the stairs. I barely had time to return the apologies, thanks, and bows before she was out of sight and on her way. I sat there in the gazebo for a while and then meandered back through the rest of the temple grounds, amazed by all the shrines, statues, and buildings. Suddenly, I heard “Good morning” through a thick Japanese-accent and turned toward the voice. A small, elderly groundskeeper was smiling at me and I bowed back at him, smiling, and greeted him in the corresponding Japanese salutation, “Ohayo gozaimasu."

Our greetings led each of us to assume that the other spoke in our native tongue, but it became clear after about eight seconds that we had each exhausted our understanding of the other. Still, he excitedly jabbered off to me all about the temple grounds and began leading me to a few different buildings I hadn't seen yet.

I have often thought during similar wanderings around the city of how fun it would be to explore with a companion familiar with the area, language, and culture. I would love to know the significance of all that I see and discover the magnificent history behind everything—and here I was with a man who probably had more knowledge and tales about the grounds than anyone else! He led me to statue after statue and building after building, pointing, laughing, and describing each object in great detail...which would have been perfect...except that every single word of his explanation was in Japanese! :-D

In Japanese, I told him that I don’t understand or speak Japanese, but he didn’t seem to notice. I apologetically repeated myself in both Japanese and English a few times so that he wouldn’t be offended if I failed to respond or acknowledge him properly, but he didn’t seem to mind that I couldn’t understand him and I didn’t mind as long as he didn’t, so I just smiled and let him talk my ear off about the rich history of where I was. I nodded and parroted what I could back to him when I felt that he was trying to teach me something in particular and I focused intently on what he was saying, but I only understood a word or two of all he spoke. Still, he was a kind, sweet, and gentle old man. I wish I could have understood him and talked with him; I’m sure that man has incredible stories to tell.

After he had shown me around some more, he went back to his work and I wandered back to the gazebo where the first woman had taken me initially. I sat there in silence for some time and gazed out over the city. I felt my heart fill all over again with love and gratitude for the Japanese people and for their continual kindness.

View from the gazebo – my beautiful Japanese hometown!

I decided to read through some old journal entries written both before and after my arrival in Japan—many memories made me laugh out loud or smile with fond nostalgia, while others penetrated my heart with a poignant rush of tender emotions. I’m not sure how long I stayed there, as I hadn’t checked the time since I rose in the morning. Eventually, I wandered back down the hill and walked through some narrow streets until I found and entrance to the river bank near my apartment. I walked down by the water and sat on the shore, listening to the river and the sounds surrounding me. The atmosphere perfectly complimented the serenity of the temple grounds I had just left and I pulled out my journal again, this time filling the last few empty pages. It seemed perfectly fitting to me that I finished off my morning adventure by finishing off my journal as well.

I walked around some more but my camera battery died upon reaching the river bank and I could tell from the sun that it was midday; I decided to return to my apartment and slowly made my way home, stopping on a few more pleasant occasions to chat in broken English/Japanese with people that visited with me along the road.

Back in my apartment, I talked with my family on Skype for a bit and then set off again on my bike—this time to check out some shops and areas in downtown Sendai. I had a wonderful time; I found many new places and browsed through several confectionery shops that offered delicious samples of their desserts and snacks—bonus! Later, I met up at the church meetinghouse with three lovely girls from China and we made Chinese-style dumplings called "gyoza" using the church’s kitchen! They were DE-licious and we had brownies for dessert—yum!

Of course, I could go into as much detail describing any aspect of my afternoon and night as I did with my trip to the temple this morning, but I would never stop writing and figured that I should probably wrap this up before it turns into an entire journal rather than a single entry. Today is just one example of a typical weekend for me here—the specific adventures and faces change, but ultimately, every week I learn something new, meet someone else that touches my heart, and gain a deeper appreciation for my Lord, my life, and the amazing blessing of being in Japan. These experiences may be common in frequency, but never in significance; I am in awe of the world and people around me and I am excited every single morning when I wake up to discover what adventures the day will hold. I am off to bed for now, but tomorrow is the 4th of July and I am excited to celebrate it......somehow!

journal entry #12 - april showers pourin in JUNE

Wednesday June 16, 2010

I’ve been putting this off. I’m not sure why, but I think I have been subconsciously avoiding my blog. I think about how I should write an update all the time, but then I think of the gazillion other things I want to do as well and I think, “I’ll write an update right after this...” Well, June is flying past me now and I haven’t written a single post yet... I apologize to all the followers of my blog for the delay--both of you. :-) There are still those gazillion other things I could get done right now, but this time, they can wait.

I think one of the reasons I haven’t been writing isn’t because I have nothing to say, but because I don’t even know where to begin! I feel like every single day has been an adventure and I have had the opportunity to witness daily miracles all around (and within) me that are truly precious. I feel like I could sit down every single day and recapitulate all that occurred, but I would never be able to stop writing! I don’t want to forget a single moment of my time in the marvelous country, but I don’t want to spend so much time journaling my experiences that I overlook new opportunities around me, either.

Also, I think it’s been hard to know what to write about because my perspective has evolved from the time I made those daunting steps off the airplane in Tokyo. When I first got here, I felt like I needed to write about everything because it all seemed so absolutely foreign (obviously) and I was astounded by all of it. Now, Sendai feels like home! I’m still just beginning to scrape the surfaces of the complex language and intricate culture and I am ever-aware of my place as an outsider, but it’s impossible to feel alienated here. The people are too kind, the land too beautiful, and the food too delicious to keep them at a distance from the heart. Japan has quickly become dear to me and I have already formed relationships with people here that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Although I am still baffled by most labels at the grocery stores and cannot accomplish anything beyond the basics at banks and shops without assistance, I have really settled into my work, my home, and my life in Sendai. I know where to go for groceries, which stores have the best prices and/or selections of what I’m looking for, and I’m actually enjoying the complexities of maintaining a budget, cooking, commuting, and all those other fun “grown-up” tasks I anticipated as a 14-year old but only really thought moms had to worry about. Still, I know I have so much to learn and I’m excited each day by something new that I hadn’t seen, heard, or known before. My life has by no means become monotonous, but it does feel calmer now.

Japan is currently experiencing what is referred to as “rainy season” and I have to say that I laughed a little to myself when I read the forecast describe “tons of rain” and “lots of rain” as weather predictions. Well, the forecast was right! Rain in Sendai is unlike rain I’ve experienced ever before and it literally goes days without stopping—and it pours the entire time. People frown when they talk about rainy season and they always apologize to me when they talk about the weather, as though it were up to them to keep the sky sunny for my enjoyment. However, I sincerely enjoy the rain! I love the sun, don’t get me wrong, but I love the sweet smells and soothing sounds of heavy rain. Plus, I found some super cute rain boots and each day it rains is a perfect opportunity for me to justify the fact that the most expensive footwear in my closet at this moment is now a fancy pair of galoshes!

My version of practical footwear! They keep my toes oh-so-dry!

Along with the heavy rain I am discovering the stifling combination of summer heat and coastal humidity. Anyone that knows me knows that I love hot, hot summers and has probably never heard me complain about being too warm...ever...but, wow—humidity makes a much bigger difference than I had ever anticipated. My bike commute is close to an hour each way and my schools do not have air-conditioning. Also, the humidity saturates everything. My clothes are damp, even when I first pull them from my closet to get dressed in the morning, and they seem to continue absorbing every drop of moisture during my commute and throughout the day—whether or not it’s raining. Nothing is ever completely dry.

I’ve heard people describe the effects of humidity before as constantly feeling like you just stepped out of the shower without drying off, but I couldn’t imagine it really being that extreme. News to Karianne—it is! The heat isn’t uncomfortable at all and it hasn’t broken 90 degrees more than a few times so far, but when the humidity matches the temperature percentage point for degree (or exceeds it), it’s incredibly stagnant. The wetness in the air in my apartment has already caused the pages in my books to warp (eek!) and the corners of my photos to curl up. All my food must also be kept in the fridge unless I want it to spoil over a matter of days; even potatoes, onions, and bread have gone bad before I realized that I need to refrigerate them!

Needless to say, I soon accepted that humidity has more control over my hair than personal preference and I am, even if reluctantly, embracing the long-suppressed natural curl in my hair. I’ve worn it straight a few times, but it takes nearly three times as long to dry and flat iron and I have to go back through it several times a day, even on the driest and sunniest of days! Tonee Marie, you win...at least during rainy season... (My BFF has tried convincing me to wear my hair curly for 10+ years.)

Still, I am thoroughly enjoying my first Japanese summer and there are many stories, observations, and thoughts that I would like to share here! I will try to sort through my random abyss of photos and discombobulated reflections enough that I can provide a more complete view of my life in Sendai. I still haven’t tried gyu tan yet, but my time is quickly approaching! I will update soon! By the way--these are actually really, really comfortable. On rainy days I walk in them for 1-2 hours and my feet never ache! LOVE.