Happy in Hokkaido

Here Today, Forgotten Tomorrow

I just saw this article on CNN's website today. It's about the many slums I saw in Delhi. The government is razing them without notice to make the city look good for the 2010 Commonwealth Games, which will be hosted by Delhi.

I saw lots of construction progress around the city, but also saw - up-close - the people who live in slums next to these projects. The people already have to deal with lots of dirt, dust and noise from the construction. Granted they shouldn't be squatting there, but to raze their homes and possessions without prior notice? That seems a bit inhumane to me. It's not a viable strategy for helping the poor. The Indian government can do a better job on this issue.

The buried lead in this story is that 3 million - yes, million - people currently live in Delhi's slums. Here's the story:

India razes slums, leaves poor homeless

NEW DELHI, India (CNN) -- Hanso Devi moved to New Delhi from Rajasthan with just one hope -- to make a better life for herself and her family.

She, her husband, five children and other relatives erected a hut to live in --- a home that provided shelter and a base for her husband's streetside blacksmith business.

The problem is that the land they built on belongs to the government. And the government has decided to take it back.

In a matter of minutes bulldozers level the place, leaving Devi and her family perched on a bed atop a sea of rubble. They have nowhere to go.

"They did it so fast that there was no time to take out anything. And the bulldozer broke everything on the way," Devi said.

"It's like we were picked up and thrown away," she said. Watch how people are living in a wasteland »

Bulldozers razed the makeshift home and hundreds of others earlier this month as the Indian government moves to improve New Delhi for the 2010 Commonwealth Games.

Officials say the land is for a road and the demolitions are simply part of a master plan to clean up the city and move slum-dwellers to proper housing.

But, the government says, there will be no relocation for families like Hanso Devi's because they do not meet relocation requirements.

The government says they are squatting too close to the road, and are located in a major development zone.

"You see they have encroached on the specific project lengths -- there will be no notice, no relocation projects for them," said New Delhi Mayor Arti Mehra, who says she and the city are worried about those who have been left homeless.

About 3 million people live in New Delhi's slums, the government estimates. Mehra says New Delhi is slated to build 100,000 new apartments, though only 6,800 are under construction.

Critics say demolishing housing that has been here for years and relocating some residents but not others will hurt many who live on the margins of society.

"They'll be pushed to the brink," said A.K. Roy of the Hazards Centre Sanchal Foundation, a non-governmental organization.

"Eventually I think what the planners are doing, they are not realizing they'll be building up a pool of violence."

The people who live in New Delhi's slums are some of the city's maids, drivers, street vendors and day laborers. Roy argues the city could not survive without the services that the slum dwellers provide.

The slums may not have looked like much to outsiders, but to families who had lived there for years, they were everything. Their businesses, homes and temples were there. Now they are lost.

Some huts are still standing, for now. Among them is the home of Sheila Naurang Lal, built more than 20 years ago by the family who still lives there.

But that is little comfort for Lal as she sees what has happened to the homes a few yards from her house.

"I came to the road yesterday after being scared seeing the bulldozer," Lal says. "You must have seen the front part has been broken."

It has been two days since the latest slum eradication, but families are still eking out a living amid the ruins. A mother cooks for her children, a 90-year-old woman with a walker sits on her bed and someone's pet goat is tied up at a shrine, waiting for its owner.

Hanso Devi looks around as night falls. She will spend another night in the open with nothing to keep her warm but a small fire.

"We are going to sleep right here. There is no place other than this."

Disturbing

Yesterday something disturbing happened after class. An eighth-grade  student (who has a psychological disorder) came up to me and said, in perfect English, "You don't need me in this world."

First, I couldn't believe he said that. Second, I was shocked at how well he said it in English. Obviously he had been thinking a lot about the idea and the sentence before he actually said it.

Then I recalled that he made a similar comment a few days earlier. Something like: "I'm not needed in this classroom."

So I lightly put my hands on his shoulders, looked him in the eye and said, "That's not true. Everybody needs everybody. I need you. You need me. This class needs me. And I need this class. We all need each other."

Then he looked me in the eye (which is a big deal here in Japan) and asked, "So ... you need me?"

In a gentle tone, I said, "Yes. I need you. And I want you in this class. I want to see you tomorrow too. You are good at English. You are a smart boy. And you work hard."

The light in his eyes seemed to return for a moment, and he smiled at me. I gave him a pat on the shoulder and he went off to talk with his friends.

The English teacher I work with was standing nearby and overheard everything. She said to me, "I'm sorry. He often says such things."

Again, I was shocked. Here was a 14-year-old boy struggling with the everyday social pressures of middle school, PLUS a psychological disorder. And to top it off, he's going through puberty, which is never easy on a person's body or mind.

In my culture, such speech would be a red flag that a student might be depressed and/or suicidal. But unfortunately in Japan "suicide talk" is common, so I think people dismiss it easily or don't treat it properly.

After my conversation with the boy, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to him in the future if he turned suicidal. While Japanese schools have a counselor who visits the school once a week, I don't think that they're trained very well. Nor is a counselor available to students every day. So students are basically on their own, unless they have sympathetic family members (which is often NOT the case).

Will this boy slip through the (wide) cracks and become another statistic in Japan's huge suicide rate? Or will he receive the help he needs from someone? All I could do was be supportive at the moment and wish him peace and happiness in the future.

As an English teacher in Japan, I've come into contact with many students who have untreated psychological issues. I'm not an expert in psychological diseases, but I have noticed a prevalence of depression, AD-HD, mild autism and social anxiety disorder.

As far as I know, these students are rammed thorough the school system with their kumi (class) as if nothing's wrong. Yet it's clear to these students' classmates and teachers that there's a problem.

Perhaps there's some sort of treatment or method of dealing with students' psychological problems that's going on behind the scenes. I can't be sure, though, because I don't speak Japanese and it's not my place to ask about it.

One thing I am sure of is these kids (and all kids, really) need someone in their life who can reassure them. For whatever reason, it seems easier for (some) Japanese students to turn to a fresh face or a "fellow outsider," like a foreign English teacher. They seek someone who realizes what it's like to be an "outsider" and who understands that it can be difficult to be a human being.

Whether you have a psychological disorder or not, being a person can be difficult. A person has lots of hopes, fears, desires, aversions and neutral feelings every hour of every day.

I think it's important for all of us to remember this when we come into contact with another human being. No matter if their actions are skillful or unskilful, the other human being is just trying to be person too. They have many of the same hopes, fears and desires as yourself.

So when this 14-year-old boy came up to me and said those disturbing things, my own understanding and compassion for him gushed forth. I spoke some kind, reassuring words. Then, in my mind, I wished him to be happy, safe, and free from suffering. I have no idea if anybody else has ever done such a thing for him in his life. But I'm just glad that I could be there for him at that moment in time.

Unfortunately this story doesn't yet have a happy ending. I'll never know if it ever will, though, because he'll go on with his schooling and life long after I leave his school in January.

The following day I had the boy in class again. He was really quiet and disinterested. He wasn't necessarily depressed or unhappy - just sort of spaced out.  I have a feeling that his parents (or someone else) put him on strong medication to control his "suicide talk" and to "fix the problem".

What remained was an empty shell of a boy sitting at a desk in his classroom. Because of the drugs, there was no light in his eyes, and he was more interested in picking his nose (literally!) than learning English.

This is a shame because he's a smart boy who's good at English. I just wish someone other than me would pay more attention to his human needs, rather than simply treating him as "problem." We all have an amazing capacity to practice compassion. If we actually did it more often, being a person would become a lot easier for ourselves and everyone else.

 

Why I Took Two Years Off...

Here's an interesting article I came across on Yahoo! Finance. It echoes some of the reasons why I needed to get out of the rat race in Washington DC, and why I came to live in Japan for two years.

 If you're ever on the fence about what to do next in your career or life, this article may give you some insight. At the very least, what the author says will indeed make you a much more open and well-rounded person -more so than any liberal arts program ever could...

A Well-Rounded Education Doesn't Have to Start with College

by Charles Wheelan, Ph.D.

I'm going to step back from economics for a moment and write about teaching economics to both undergraduates and graduate students. Based on that experience, I have some advice for talented high school students: Don't go to college.

And advice for talented college graduates: Don't get a job.

A Complete Education

Of course there is a caveat. You should do both of them eventually, just not right away. Take a year off, either after high school or after college.

Use that year to do something interesting that you'll likely never be able to do again: write a book, hike the Appalachian Trail, live with your grandparents, trek in Katmandu, volunteer at a health clinic in India, or serve your country in the military.

Just do something that will make you a more complete person. I suspect that it'll also make you appreciate your education more (and, ironically, make you more attractive when you do apply for college or enter the job market).

Rules of Engagement

I have two rules. First, you have to support yourself. If you're writing that novel, then you need to be waiting tables when you're not at the keyboard. If you're traveling across India, then you've got to earn the money before you go. This isn't about Mom and Dad funding leisure travel. The time will only be meaningful if you have to work for it, literally.

And second, this experience can't be one of those uber-competitive kinds of programs that are designed as a means to get you somewhere else -- like NASA physics camp or 14 hours a day of intensive gymnastics.

The World a Classroom

Why should an 18- or 22-year-old head for Nepal instead of the University of Illinois or Wall Street?

For three reasons. First, because you can. Because the world is an interesting place, life is short, and there just aren't that many opportunities to take long stretches to do really cool things.

Second, and perhaps more practical, it'll make you appreciate your education more, whether you do it before or after college. I remember the first time I saw terraced rice paddies in Indonesia. I'd taken a course on monsoon Asia in college but the concepts seemed remote and academic. But when I was standing in Bali, staring up at the remarkable green fields carved into the mountainside, I finally understood all the facts that I'd memorized for the exams.

Book-Smart, Life-Ignorant

Last, it'll impart perspective and maturity. I've encountered a small but growing number of students -- amazingly smart and talented people -- who just seem intellectually immature and even emotionally unhealthy. They're obsessed with grades more than learning (because good grades are necessary to do the next hypercompetitive thing).

Despite enormous talent, I fear that these students aren't prepared for a world in which the best path isn't always the most competitive one; where failure is a precondition for success; where there are no letter grades to signpost success. They are smart but not wise -- and more life experience, both the waiting tables and the trekking in Nepal, would help that.

I imagine this kind of immaturity is an inevitable part of growing up, but it feels more common to me these days. Perhaps this is what comes of a generation characterized by parents who made extraordinary efforts to get them into the right preschool.

Hitting the Road

In any case, when it comes to taking a year off, I write from experience. When I was a senior in high school, I told my principal that I wanted to take a year off before going to college. He talked me out of the idea, but to his eternal credit he persuaded me to do it after college.

So I did. After graduation, I spent four months working at a law firm where I was paid a relatively large hourly sum to put 50,000 production documents in chronological order. I lived at home and caddied on the weekends. (In one of life's little ironies, the last guy I ever caddied for -- after a 13-year looping career -- was George W. Bush. Go figure.)

When I had enough for the trip, I left for Colorado, then California, then Tahiti, then Australia and New Zealand -- and so on, across Southeast Asia, China, India, Europe, and home. People often tell me how lucky I was, which is true in a broad sense, but not when it comes to having done this trip. The whole journey -- with a budget of $20 a day -- cost roughly as much as a Honda Civic at the time. Have you ever told a college graduate that he was lucky to be able to afford a Honda Civic?

Meeting Resistance

Curiously, most people -- including my college peers -- thought that taking a year off to travel was a terrible idea at the time. One relative told me that I would be "a year behind," a comment that only makes sense if you believe that life consists of checking off a series of boxes -- job, kids, house, vacation home -- and then ringing a bell.

There are two common arguments against taking time off to do something off the beaten track. The first is that "you can always do it later." I find that kind of sad; to quote Langston Hughes, a dream deferred is a dream denied. How many people do you know who have hiked the Appalachian Trail, volunteered at a clinic in India, written a novel, or done any of the things I mentioned above? These kinds of things don't get easier when you have kids and a mortgage.

The second is that this is some kind of elitist boondoggle. That's just nonsense. My wife (who as my girlfriend at the time) made the around-the-world trip with me. She graduated from an Ivy League school with a full load of student loans. She worked as a waitress on Nantucket (living in a bunkhouse behind the country club) until she'd earned enough to travel around the world for nine months and pre-pay her loans for a year. Then she came back, got a corporate job, and paid off the rest of the student loans. Not bad for someone with three siblings, all raised by a single parent who taught preschool for a living.

A Leg Up

The irony of taking a year out is that it's a pretty good career move, too. You get a unique life experience, and a year later, should you so choose, you can still apply to Harvard Law School.

Only in that pile of applications, you're the one who wrote a book or went around the world. That's who I want in my classes.

Just "BEE"

Two weeks ago I hosted a 6-person cycling team that was biking from the northern-most point in Japan (Cape Soya, Hokkaido) to the southern-most (Kagoshima, Kyushu) on Japan's four main islands. The team, called Bicycle for Everyone's Earth (BEE), raises environmental awareness each year by doing this 2-3 month long self-supported cycle tour. Along the way they meet with environmental and non-governmental organizations.

About two months before the team showed up at my place, I read a somewhat frantic e-mail request from one of their team leaders, asking if there was anywhere they could stay while passing through Sapporo. My place is pretty large by Japanese standards, so I decided to open it up to the team. In addition to my apartment, my good friend and neighbor, Ido Gabay, was away on vacation for two weeks. So with his permission, I also offered his place to the team.

It was great hosting the team, and I could tell they felt very relaxed and happy to be in Sapporo. The day they arrived in Sapporo, they biked about 60km from the town of Bibai. Luckily the weather was good, and everyone arrived in good spirits. One of the team members had problems with a wheel on his bike, so he had to take the train to Sapporo while he searched for a specialty bike shop to fix the tire. But everyone else appeared to be doing well and their equipment was holding up.

The team was outfitted with touring bikes with pannier bags. (I think each team member was responsible for buying their own bicycles, touring gear, and matching team jerseys.) Because they were riding and camping from place to place, each person was carrying between 20-30kg (44-65 lbs.) of equipment. This is a lot of weight for a touring bicycle to carry, so it's one of the reasons why one of the team members had a problem with his tire. With that much weight bearing down on just a few spokes, the spokes start to bend, which in turn bends the rim of the tire, causing the tire to rub against the bicycle frame. A few of the team members noticed this happening to their own bikes after they arrived in Sapporo, so they were forced to lighten their loads.

While the team visited me, I had a chance to check out some of the gear they were carrying. Colin, who was one of the team leaders, carried a small mini-laptop with a cell phone internet connection. Cat, another team leader, carried food and cooking stuff. Other team members carried tents, emergency kits, bicycle repair tools and, of course, clothing.

Overall the team was highly organized, and everyone had a job to do. Team members pledged to only eat a vegetarian diet during the ride and try to source all their food locally, instead of relying on plastic-wrapped packaged food from convenience stores. While they were riding, they used the "buddy system," and everyone had a map and a destination point to reach by the end of the day. This allowed folks to ride at their own pace and not worry about how fast or slow they were going. While I didn't actually watch them cycle on the road, I'm sure they took their time, given all the weight they were carrying. After all, there's no point in going real fast or taking any risks on such a long journey...

I sat in on one of their team meetings as well, which was fascinating. Colin and Cat went over the food situation, daily cycling routes, how many hills they could expect to encounter the next day, any politics or frustrations among group members, etc. They also discussed their enviornmental footprint and ways to keep it as small as possible. I have to admit that I was quite impressed with how well organized the team was, and how well they got along. I did sense some undercurrents of anxiety among some team members, but overall the group dynamic was pleasant and any problems among teammates seemed superficial.

The team ended up staying at my place and Ido's for three nights. The second night was a lot of fun because I took the team to the Sapporo beer gardens on Odori park. Each year the major Japanese breweries set up beer gardens on each block of Odori park. Every block has a different theme, and they all offer food and of course beer. The festival runs for a whole month, and the gardens are open each night from about 4PM till 9:30PM. Lots and lots of people show up every evening, and they love to get drunk and talk to foreigners! (Sometimes alcohol can be a nice social lubricant!)

(Side note: According to the beer festival's organizing committee, the amount of beer consumed in the 26 days between July 21 and August 15 was 539,000 liters, an increase of 17.3% on the previous year. If this many beer mugs (500-ml medium-sized glasses) were stacked vertically, they would reach a height 42.8 times that of Mt. Fuji! The number of visitors this year was 1,408,000, an increase of 18.1% on the previous year. I'm certain that myself and some of the other JETs here contributed to that 17.3% increase...)

Cat and Colin and I went down to the Otaru Beer Garden and got a nomihodai (all you can drink) deal. No one on the team had drunk alcohol very much over the past few days, so the booze hit them pretty hard. Needless to say, everyone had a great time, and the rest of the teammates met up with us at the Otaru Beer Garden. They wanted to go out to a foreigner bar afterwards, so I led them to a popular one called TK6.

In sum, the time I spent with the team was a lot of fun. And it was very rewarding to share my home, knowledge of the city, and food . One night, for instance, we cooked a big vegetarian Indian meal. I made some curries, while Cat made some chapatis. I also contributed some food to breakfasts, and I did some laundry for team members.

You know how they say good deeds always come back to you? Well you could consider that weekend to be one of instant returns! As I did all these helpful things for team members, they kept coming back to me in the form of kindness, gratitude, helpfulness and insight. I know this is hard to express in words, but I'll do my best to explain...

For example, when I first opened the door when the team arrived, I immediately recognized Colin's Scottish accent when he greeted me. Colin, who just finished a 3-year JET contract in Fukui, was a contributor to an unofficial JET podcast for incoming JETs. One year ago he and some other Fukui JETs decided to put together a podcast that gave people a lot more information than the JET Programme itself (and contracting organizations) was providing. It was something I found to be very helpful before I left the US. They gave a lot of great information about what to pack, what to expect, etc.

Because Colin was the only Scottish member of the podcast team, I immediately recognized his voice when he said hello to me at my front door. And I was so happy to actually meet him in person. (I had no idea he was on the BEE team!) See, he had been so helpful to me a year ago, and I thought that I'd never actually meet him in person. Yet things work out in mysterious and sometimes awesome ways , so it was really cool to invite him into my home and become helpful to him. (Not long after he arrived, I told him how thrilled I was to meet him and how I really, really appreciated his podcast information.)

Hosting Cat was another good example of how things come full circle and how good can come back to you. During Golden Week this year (late April to early May), I did a road trip of Southwestern Hokkaido with some JET friends. We passed through the city of Hakodate and needed a place to stay. Cat lived on the outskirts of town and opened up her place for JETs to stay at, even though she herself was out of town. So I ended up staying at her place, but never met her in person.

Then a few months later Ido went hiking with her in the Hidaka mountains. Because of this, Ido knew that she needed a place for her team to stay while they were in Sapporo. So it just worked out that both Ido and I could lend a helping hand. When Cat appeared on my doorstep, it was really nice to meet her in person and to give her a place to stay, just like she did for me!

During the course of the team's stay, Colin and I chatted a lot about some of the fundraising activities that FJET (the Fukui association of JETs) has done in the past. (A week before the team's visit, I was just elected Sapporo City HAJET representative, so I was looking for good ideas.) We exchanged some great ideas, which I plan to propose to our HAJET council in the future.

Other good deeds that seemed to come back right away included: hosting a poker game with Fukui and Hokkaido JETs; getting to know a Chinese guy who was on the BEE team. Through broken Japanese and English, he gave me a book about famous streams and rivers in Japan; showing BEE teammate the foreigner bar, where most of their internal team politics dissolved after a few drinks; cooking lots of Indian food and then being given team food the next morning before I rode my own bike to work.

One of the girls on the team also did something creative with food packaging and cardboard: She cut up colorful parts of a cereal box, for example, and made placards. Then she cut up other parts of product packaging into thin strips, which she used to form letters. Then she glued the letters onto the placards to form nice little sayings. For example, she gave me one that said "kindness." It now sits prominently in my living room and is a reminder of why it's always important to be kind and open to helping people whenever possible. Here's what was written on the reverse side of the placard:

    "Kindness - it's a language that the blind can see and the deaf can hear." - Mark Twain

Mike,

In a country where most of us can barely understand ANYTHING, we were able to understand and totally appreciate the kindness you've shown us. Thank you for inviting us into your home, for cooking us such an amazing dinner and for inviting us into your exciting life. We have all fallen in love with Sapporo and will remember the fun memories we've had here as we continue our journey!

With our love,
The BEE Team '08

In sum, it's great to give, especially when you don't expect anything in return. When you do get something in return, no matter how big or small it might be, it always exceeds your expectations (because you don't have any in the first place!).

A System of Weights and Measurements

Today was an interesting day at school. All students had their height and weight checked by the teachers. The incoming students also had their eyesight checked and got TB tests.

Because this was a special day, everyone wore their blue school track suits. This is probably because the track suits weigh less and are easier to move around in. All the boys were weighed and measured, then all the girls. Female teachers weigh and measure the girls, male teachers the boys.

I was asked to help with the boys height and weight check. Because I'm tall, my job was to move the little slider up and down on the measurement apparatus. A teacher read off the number to another teacher, who wrote the height down in each student's little booklet. The booklet contains a student's height/weight and vaccination history since elementary school. (The Japanese government requires all schools to do this each year so it can compile public health records and spot trends.)

So there I was, in a room full of middle school boys in blue track suits, all lining up to be weighed and measured. As I moved the slider up and down, I couldn't help but think about how we can be so easily defined by numbers. Example: 'I'm 185cm tall." "I weigh 77kg." "I'm tall." "I'm thin." and so on...

So what does that really mean? How much can be inferred from these labels? Not a whole lot that's useful, if you ask me... OK, so maybe without looking at me you might be able to get an idea of my general body size/shape by examining the ratio between my height and weight. But can you find out anything truly useful or insightful from these figures?

Not really.

As I looked down at each little head below me, I quickly moved beyond numbers and labels (e.g. "You're 165cm tall." "You're tall!" "You're short!" etc.) and wondered what was going on inside each little head. That's the place where numbers stop and life begins.

This thought made me smile, and I found myself really enjoying the privilege of measuring these boys. A lot of people would have found this task to be boring and repetitive, but I just enjoyed seeing how each student is so different, yet also so much the same. Sure, some are taller or shorter than others, but everyone's pretty much within a certain height range. Going further, each student was a boy going through adolescence. Each boy was Japanese. Each Japanese person is a human being. And each human being is part of the world and the universe.

Maybe that's going a little deep and far, but thoughts like this have been going through my head a lot recently. And they've given me a lot of peace, patience and understanding - something that one of the teachers I was working with has yet to develop...

If you remember the assistant vice-principal I wrote about in my blog post titled "Are You Cold?" then you'll know who I'm talking about. In a nutshell, he's stuffy, overly-strict, demanding and is always stressed out. He adheres rigidly to protocol, and reprimands anyone who breaks it. With colleagues, he's passive-aggressive.

As I was measuring a student, he singled out the boy for wearing a T-shirt that had red around the shirt neck. The official uniform for the school track suit is a plain white T-shirt worn underneath a blue jacket. But this student was wearing a plain T-shirt that happened to have a red collar around the neck. (Perhaps it was laundry day in his household, or he had nothing else to wear today...) With the blue jacket zipped up to the neck, you could barely even see that he was wearing a T-shirt at all!

Well when the vice-principal saw this red collared T-shirt, he threw a fit and berated the student in front everyone. Also he made some of the boys tuck their T-shirts into their shorts, even though no shirttail could be visible while a student was wearing the blue jacket. In short, it was ridiculous the way he treated them, and he was totally projecting his own pain and suffering onto these boys. All in the name of "conformity" and God knows what else.

His anger came forth again when a student didn't have his booklet open to the correct page. You should have seen the pure rage in his eyes when he was handed this unopened notebook! in Japanese, he shouted, "PAGE!!!" at this student, and then glared at him for a few seconds. I thought to myself, "If he wasn't surrounded by other teachers and students right now, I bet he would have hit the boy and yelled some more."

Luckily this didn't happen and things just continued on as usual. But I could feel all this pain and anger emanating from the assistant vice principal, and it totally polluted the atmosphere. Thankfully we all have the power to balance things like this out through right thinking and right action. The teacher at the other measurement station, for instance, seemed to treat each boy like he was his own son. Even through the mundane task of measuring students, this man gave off a vibe that felt like he was measuring his own child each time he did it. He never yelled and he never seemed to get upset.

I decided not to accept the assistant vice principal's projected anger and pain. Instead I was calmed by the other teacher's example, so I too smiled at all the students as I measured them. In my head, I silently wished each of them luck and happiness in school and in life.

The measuring continued until it was over, and then I went back to the teachers' room and had a coffee and wrote this blog post. On the walk back to the teachers' room, I realized something: the assistant vice principal is living in a black-and-white world of unbending rules and expectations; of numbers and figures. (It's fitting that he's also a math teacher!) And I can totally empathize with that world view because not so long ago I used to strictly adhere to certain ways of doing things; of wanting to have all my expectations met. When things didn't happen exactly as I envisioned, or my expectations weren't met, I became angry and suffered at the hands of my own mind. In many ways, I reacted like a toddler. So too does this assistant vice principal.

I think I've finally grown out of my toddler stage, and I now live in a much more peaceful, intriguing and simpler world. Yet I can understand how easy it can be to think that we're all just part of a larger system of weights and measurements, of numbers and expectations. It's so easy, comfortable and safe to believe that everything can be counted and defined.

But we're human beings, and therefore we bring a lot more to the ruler and scale than just our height measurement, our weight figure, or page 12 of our health booklet. We bring consciousness, emotions, joy and suffering into everyday life. Because of this, we can be nice or mean when we do things, even mundane things like a height and weight exam. We can point out others' flaws by ridiculing them, saying nothing, or skillfully helping them change their behavior. Life's a mixed bag, not just a system of weights and measurements. It's our outlook on life and our unique human ability to take the good with the bad that allows us to become truly aware of life as it is. And luckily this truth doesn't depend on the color of your T-shirt collar, your height, your weight, or your age. All that really matters is awareness of your own thoughts. Weigh and measure that idea for a minute or two! :-)

Opening a Window to the World

The long, cold freezing winter has finally ended here in Sapporo. For months people have been pent up in houses and apartments with their windows and doors sealed tight to keep the cold out. Inside things remain quiet, still.

Then all of a sudden spring arrives, and temperatures have been reaching upwards of 18C. Windows are opened and people pour into parks, playgrounds and downtown areas, soaking up the fresh air and sun. When people open their windows, something peculiarly subtle and comforting happens: sounds from the ordinary world outside re-emerge, making a person feel more vibrant and alive.

With the windows open, I can once again hear the soft drone of traffic below, children playing, bicycles whizzing by and the distant sound of soccer and baseball games happening at the small sports stadium across the street. The wind also whistles outside my kitchen window, bringing fresh air into an apartment that can certainly use some. For months these sounds have been muffled by glass windows and the plastic I put over them to keep the cold out. But this week I threw open the windows and have been enjoying the sounds of life outside.

Another interesting thing seems to happen when people open their windows: they become friendlier with each other. For instance this week I've been greeted by many more Japanese neighbors than I have in months. Also people walking down the street seem happier and friendlier than they did just two weeks ago. Maybe it's because everyone's happy the warm weather is finally here. But I feel it's got more to do with people becoming reconnected once again to their immediate environment - even when they're at home.

Imagine if people opened their minds like they did their windows... now that would be something indeed! ;-)

Are You Cold?

The Japanese love formal ceremonies! Yesterday, for instance, was the school's opening ceremony for all students. Then today they held another one for incoming 7th graders. Both were held in the gym, and they were both long, boring and very rigid.

Yesterday also happened to be my first day at this school, so I naturally wore a suit. Little did I know, however, that today was actually a much more formal ceremony, which also required me to wear a suit. (Parents and the PTA were in attendance.) But of course, nobody told me this, so I only wore a tie today.

Wrong move! Just before today's ceremony was about to begin, the vice principal came up to me and asked, "Are you cold?" We were in the gym, which isn't heated, and the temperature was probably about 16 degrees (60F). So the question was a legitimate one.

But let's pause here for a moment. This is Japan. And in Japan people are indirect and often don't say exactly what they mean. In the West, we call this passive aggressiveness. In Japan, it's a way of life, and is considered a polite way to prod someone to do something you want.

If you've never lived in Japan before, the true meaning of a comment like the vice principal's probably would go right over your head. When you live and work here, you have to translate not only Japanese language, but also Japanese thoughts. So what my vice principal was actually saying to me was was: "Why aren't you wearing a suit jacket?"

At first I took his question about me being cold literally, so I responded, "I'm fine thanks. I actually enjoy cooler weather."

Translation in his mind: "I'll do whatever I please, thank you very much."

Of course I totally didn't want him to get that impression or idea from me: I was just giving an honest answer to his question! After a few minutes of sitting, watching the boring ceremony, his true meaning dawned on me.

I felt irritated for a few minutes, as I realized what had actually transpired between us. But luckily I had forty minutes to analyze it and come to peace with the incident.

During the ceremony I realized that the vice principal, like most Japanese people, is stuck in a rigid pattern of expectation. What is expected from others must be given to them, without excuses. If you can deliver on expectations, then you will look good in the eyes of others. Therefore me wearing just a tie did not meet his expectations, and thereby made him look bad in front of the PTA and all the parents. (I doubt they really cared anyway!)

The vice principal probably never thought about whether anybody bothered to tell me to wear a suit today. Or whether or not I even knew that today's ceremony was going to be more formal than yesterday's was. Although this is the truth, excuses - true or not - never serve a person well in Japan... or in life for that matter!

So I sat there, feeling sour for a bit. It felt like I was stuck in a Catch 22. But then I realized that I was beating myself up over nothing. Everybody around me was either in a suit, school uniform, kimono, or some other look-alike clothing. All I was missing was a just suit jacket. That's not too far off... If I had one, it would be really easy for me to instantly conform and blend in with everybody else.

But I'm glad I stuck out today. And not just for the sake of rebelliousness or of breaking social conventions. It was just an accident. But sometimes accidents teach us important lessons.

For instance I don't feel sorry for not wearing a suit jacket today. Who I actually felt sorry for is all the other people around me, who were stuck in various patterns of expectation and conformity. If you really think about it, dress codes and clothing styles are extremely socially-engineered, and they're conformist. What do they add up to after we die?

Going deeper, what does it all matter, in comparison to the larger scheme of things? Does it add anything to the essence of mind? At age 35, will former students really care to watch the video one of the teachers made during the ceremony? Will the parents doubt my teaching ability because I wasn't wearing a suit jack between 1:00 and 2:05PM on Tuesday, May 8 2008?

I highly doubt it.

As I sat there, I decided to simply take "I" out of the equation and examine things objectively, quietly. I was responsible for making myself feel bad, not the vice principal. I was putting put too much emphasis and emotion into something that's inherently empty and will be meaningless after I die. This laid bare the futileness of the vice principal's comments and brought me a wonderful sense of peace.

After arriving at this peace, something else dawned on me: All I had to do was just sit there and smile; show people my happiness and equanimity. They'll forget about my suit jacket and see the real me.

So I sat there and smiled, and just felt happy and relieved from the unnecessary, self-inflicted suffering. I took this feeling of peace with me when I had to go up on stage. I stood there with ten other new teachers and was introduced in front of all the students, the PTA, parents and teachers. I felt lucky to be there, and excited to start a new year at a new school teaching eager new students. And I didn't feel a bit nervous about anything. Especially not what I was wearing!

By the end of the ceremony, I was actually enjoying it and felt happy. When I got back to the teachers' room, I smiled broadly and heartily thanked the principal, vice principal and everyone else who helped put the ceremony together. What a great way to end an afternoon and change my mood! I hope other people at this school realize peace like this and learn to view difficulties in a similar light.

In closing, I guess my response to the vice principal's question was right on target, especially on a subconscious and spiritual level: "I'm doing just fine, thanks." is truly what I felt at the time. Perhaps a more relevant thing to say to him next time would be: "How about you?" (Translation: "Why are you wearing one?") If he really thought about the question and his answer, I can guarantee it would far surpass his expectations.

Bridging Time and Distance

I haven't posted on here in a while because I've been quite busy lately. For example, last week two friends from DC visited me. (Click here for the photo album.) Dana Edwards and Elish Healy visited me for about a week, and we had a fantastic time together. When you live abroad for an extended period of time, it's really nice to see familiar, friendly faces from home. I also love exposing people to new cultures and experiences!

When people spend the time and money to fly halfway around the world to see you, it's like receiving one of the most important gifts you'll ever get in your lifetime. I know that might sound cheesy, but the longer I live here the more I realize just how important friendships are, and also how friendships have the ability to bridge time and space gaps.

Dana and Elish spent a weekend in Tokyo before flying up north to see me. From the pictures they showed me, it seems like they definitely got to drink in (pun intended) the fascinating craziness that is Tokyo. They also told me they had a few "Lost in Translation" moments...

Apart from the normal tourist stuff, we did a lot of fun cultural things in Sapporo. Some of my favorite moments from their visit were: karaoke; eating sushi with my JET friends; drinking sake at an izakaya (Japanese-syle bar); talking about life and its meaning while watching the moon rise from my apartment balcony; looking at the Susukino "whore" girls (girls all done up in make-up and skimpy clothing); shopping for Engrish T-shirts; taking photos of water running off a roof into an overflowing trash can in the middle of a sidewalk; and introducing them to the concept of nomihodai (all-you-can-drink for a fixed time and price). These are among the many, many memories we made together.

One of the things I really enjoyed about hosting Dana and Elish is their desire to seek out new things, their ability to look at the mundane and see the interesting, experiment, laugh and learn. They rolled with the punches and maximized their time here. And by maximized, I don't just mean doing and seeing touristy things - but rather they made the most of each experience and situation that came along. It would be great if a lot of other people in this world would embrace life like Dana and Elish did on this trip.

After being in Japan for a few days and seeing the (somewhat carefree and easy-going) JET lifestyle, both my visitors realized how different life can be if we just allow change to happen to us an embrace other ways of thinking and living life.

They came to understand very quickly just how tragic life can be for people living in the US and Japan. In both countries (and many, many more), a lot of people are stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of work, material accumulation, and staving off death as long as possible. To be "successful" in the West requires "paying your dues," putting in lots of time at work, and attaining material rewards. In the meantime, people miss important opportunities for personal growth and attaining real happiness. The cycle also stifles creativity and human compassion.

I told Dana and Elish that the JET Programme (for me at least) is a much-needed "time-out" in my life. Here I have time to just think about things, find my direction in life, and understand that life doesn't have to be this endless work-accumulate-die cycle. This might sound hippie-ish, but it's the truth.

Dana and Elish are both creative people who follow life as it happens, rather than following a prescripted "career ladder" or something of the sort. I think that's why they had such a good time here in Japan, and also why our friendship has lasted through time and distance gaps. They know how to have a good time and how to enjoy life and see things in new and interesting in ways most people can't. For example, check out this random, yet beautiful, moment that unfolded in front of us in the middle of a sidewalk in Otaru:

We were just walking down the street, being tourists for a day, and suddenly this amazing piece of life jumped out in front of us. The snow started melting very quickly while Dana and Elish were here, so a lot of roofs had run-off that day. Someone set up this blue trash can in the middle of the sidewalk to collect the water as it came off a roof. But if you think about it, it's kind of a ridiculous idea. As you can see, the can filled up quickly and overflowed onto the sidewalk.

Upon seeing this, we all stopped, looked at each other, and said, "OK, this is just way too random to be ignored." So all of us took out our cameras and started snapping some cool pictures of this seemingly "random" scene.

Nothing in life is random. Dana and Elish's visit to Japan wasn't random. Neither was it random when I ran into Dana about a year ago waiting in line for the bathroom at a DC bar. (Because of a very confining relationship I was in, we hadn't hung out with each other in about a year and a half!). And all of taking pictures of this blue trash can in Otaru also wasn't a random event. All things are connected in this universe, and that's a beautiful thing to know - especially if you think deeply about it and understand what it really means.

So thank you Dana and Elish for coming here to Japan and helping me reaffirm the fact that life's full of inspiration, joy, creativity and connectedness. I will miss you, but we both know that time and space are just labels that friendships can easily overcome.

Twenty-Seven

Today I turn 27 years old! (OK, I'm not actually 27 until about 3:30PM local time here, as it will be 1:30AM on the 20th on the East Coast of the US, where I was born). Here's where the planets and stars were located in the sky at the time of my birth, FYI:

I have to admit, I'm kind of sad to see 26 go, because it was such a great year for me. In a nutshell, I completely changed the course of my life and career within a span of just 12 months. I've also met some really wonderful people, rekindled old friendships, started learning another language, traveled extensively and forged some lasting friendships. To top it off, I threw off the shackles of a dead-end, high-stress, meaningless job and became an English teacher in Japan. My job satisfaction has risen considerably, and I'm surrounded by a whole new batch of awesome friends on this side of the Pacific.

 
Looking back, I've really come out of my shell this year. I've achieved some spiritual enlightenment, understood much more about how the universe works, strengthened relationships with friends and family, discovered a bit more about my place in this world and where I need to go next. How often do such monumental things happen to a person in just one year? I am lucky indeed!

 
I'm staying here in Sapporo for another year, so there will definitely be a lot more to look forward to. I pray that my health and wellness continue to be strong, and that I continue to grow and develop spiritually.

 
After this past year of monumental change, I can only imagine what the universe has in store for me! In the meantime, I'm going to take things as they come, day by day, and just enjoy the now. After all, now is the only thing we are guaranteed of in this life. Think about it...

Who Really Matters to Us?

A friend of mine recently forwarded this insightful e-mail to me. It just happens to fit perfectly into a lot of the thinking I've been doing lately, so I thought I'd share it with you:

(The creator of the Peanuts comic strip, Charles Schultz, originally penned this little quiz. You don't have to actually answer the questions. Just read it straight through and you'll get the point...)

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America.

4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.

5. Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.

6. Name the last decade's worth of World Series winners.

How did you do?

The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday. These

are no second-rate achievers. They are the best in their fields. But

the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten.

Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners .

Here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:

1. List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.

2. Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.

3. Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.

4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

Easier?

The lesson:

The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with

the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the

ones that care .

Quote:

"Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia Japan " - Charles Schultz (Note: I modified this quote slightly ;-) )