technical difficulties; also 'snost and lost'

for reasons unknown to me (a miracle considering my vast, vast knowledge of all things technical), I had to reset the layout - or "template" - for this website. Minimal information was lost, but I tried for a few days to figure what was wrong and fix it, which is why, my dear, grand legion of readers, there has been no kathy-centric news of japan the last few days.

But here!:
from Mike Doughty's site (http://mikedoughty.com/gallery/MIke-no-longer-lives-life%2C-he-only-photographs-it/tobefilledwithawe_oct22_2004). His "I hear the bells" (which contains the word "ampersand" and the lines "you snooze you lose, well i have snost and lost") has been on repeat for the last three or four days in my house, and this is nice, too.

what a day, what a week... things that happened:
1. I taught a 50 minute class using the wrong material - material from another class. d'oh. The students, bless them, gave absolutely no indictation that anything was wrong or that their teacher was a moron who was teaching them all the wrong material. They responded to cards and played games with reasonable success, and, as far as I could see, didn't shoot each other or me any odd looks of "What is going on? Last week we were talking about 'They went to the park. Where THEY go? THEY went to the park' This week, it's all 'on, under, over.' " I didn't realize what I had done until the end of the class, when I gave them back their workbooks. (Workbooks, what a word. I now operate in a world that has workbooks and where the t-rex puppet means 'he' and the minnie mouse puppet is 'she' and where students have to be watched before class so they don't try to climb the bookshelf. The climbing the bookshelf bit only happened twice, I guess.) Made me realize how much control and responsibility one has a teacher - just how much faith students have in you (and how little control they have; this is all in another language), and, thus, how important it is that you try hard to do the best you can and to present the information as clearly as possible.

(The teaching mix-up, however, actually happened two weeks ago. This week was test week at school. So, yeah, d'oh, I mixed up and taught them the wrong lesson on the week before the test. But the class did very well on the test, and I told Shigeko about what I did as soon as the class was over. She laughed, bless her, and said it's something that every teacher's done at one point. I don't know if that's true, but it made me feel much, much better. But, still, seriously, pay attention lenius.)

2. During an overzealous moment demonstrating "I CAN seee the board. I CAN'T see the board" I got gum stuck in my hair during class. I don't normally chew gum, but TK offered it after our afternoon snack (there's almost always afternoon treats before school actually starts at 4:40 p.m. or 5 p.m.), and I didn't want to say no, and it's not that I'm opposed to gum in any way, I just don't like to chew it regularly. I knew I lost my gum during class, but I couldn't find it after a quick half-second check. Then one of the girls who was sitting two spots away from me sits up and comes over and pulls it out of my hair. Awesome.
3. I went to my first ikibana class. Ikibana is a type of flower arranging, but different from Western style arrangements. It's very specific and there's many rules and outlines of how many flowers and angles at which they be bent and where they should be. I didn't think I was going to like it that much, honestly, but I do. They're flowers so they smell nice and they add a nice aesthetic to the apartment. Plus, I like the thought of displicine and spending time thinking about how to arrange something that nature made beautiful to make it even more so. No one, however, in the class including the instructor speaks any English, and, of course, my Japanese skills (at present) are sort of limited to "thank you," "thank you very much." Still, I think it will be fine. Shigeko studied with this instructor for almost 20 years, and she's teaching something that's based on the physical. She shows you how to do something, you do it, you show her what you did, if she likes it, she smiles; if she doesn't, she moves it around. The instructor was also TK's gymnastics coach, and one of the other women in the class showed me a ikibana magazine from earlier this year that has the instructor's picture and a short story about her. So, ikibana, I'm excited about that.
4. At school, right before the adult class, I stabbed myself with a thumbtack. I didn't think it was that bad, but when we were giving introductions and "how are yous" at the beginning of class, the student sitting next to me asked if I was ok. My finger was bleeding more than I thought. So I went to get a band aid. During class. But now, anyway, I know where the first aid kit is.
5. Twin boys in Thursday's 1A class (6-year-olds) stuck pencils in both of their nostrils and in their ears as the class started the test (this week, as I mentioned, was test week for all the children's classes). Both got up, smiling so big and so proud, to come over and show me. Yesterday, at the onsen after work, I could laugh about it.
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Adrian said you have to be able to laugh at yourself to survive here. That's true at school, as it is for any teacher, I'm sure. Culturally, I'm not quite at the point where I can open myself up to laugh yet, I don't think. On the weekends, when there's not a prearranged activity, I still feel pretty lost. I went for a really long walk today. I found the park I couldn't find when I went looking a couple of weekends ago, but I still feel really disconnected and limited because I can't speak the language. No one has been rude because I can't speak Japanese, and I don't think most people expect me to be able too, because I obviously am not Japanese and I don't look like I'm Japanese and most people aren't surprised when I can't understand what they say. And people really have been so welcoming - unbelievably welcoming, actually, going out of their way to help someone who - and it sounds so ridiculous when it's put like this, but this is what happened - came to their country with no idea how to speak the language, and so must be accomodated by them. (Today, it started to rain while I was walking and someone actually pulled their car over to offer me an umbrella.)
But language is so limiting. I feel like I can't go into a restaurant, I can't go to a tea or coffee house, I can't browse in a sweet store (and there are many of those there), I can't buy onsen tickets or take the train, I can't figure out how to get money out of my bank account via the atm. And I realize that these are in part (in large part, actually) limitations that I'm putting on myself. Today I organized some of the Japanese textbooks that I brought and the study notes left by previous teachers. Tomorrow, it is my intention to go to Doutour coffeeshop (they have a pointable picture menu), and get a few basic phrases down, so I can feel a little more comfortable. I also need to study a little so I can ask TK about the possibility of Japanese lessons; I want to have at least put in a minimal effort before I ask him to donate some of his time. I also want to make a list and schedule of places I definitely want to go while I'm in Japan, and then schedule a weekend or vacation when I will go there. I know I'm just starting, but I've also been here a month already, and I don't want to miss out on seeing and experiencing things while I'm here just because I didn't have things together.

Also, maybe a testiment to my state of mind, but I saw this for the first time today, and out of some mix of happiness and longing and gratefulness for the opportunities that are available and the opportunities that I've had and guilt for not being more satisified and brave and taking advantage of those opporutnities, and joy for the all the beautiful things there are, it made me cry. But, it's inspiring, I think. Bless matt, too.
http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/

Man, it's still raining. I wish I had some knitting needles.