Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Going home so soon?
Today was my 5th day of being at my desk all day. Luckily, they have been scattered over 3 calendar weeks. At this point, I can't even image how interminable summer break would be without taking vacation days. 5 WEEKS of sitting at your desk? I'd gnaw off my hands by the third week, just for something to do...
The Japanese take beginnings and endings very seriously. I was glad I was warned that a formal bow and greeting would be forthcoming from every member of the staff as a way of acknowledging the new year, or I would have been mightily confused as to why all the staff had simultaneously decided to show me extra respect today. I also started to wonder why the bowing didn't happen yesterday, before realizing that we were all too busy shoveling snow to observe the formal ritual. With 95% of the staff back to school today, bows were happening all over the place...
After finishing lesson plans for the remainder of the school year for the 7th grade yesterday, I manage to finish lesson planning for both the 8th AND 9th grades today. So, yes, in 5 days I have planned 3 months of lessons for 3 grades. I'm a first year teacher, mind you. This is my first go-'round with all of these texts. Every time I have a successful lesson, I file it away for next year. For the life of me, I can't figure out what keeps my teachers at school until 9pm every night. Except for not wanting to go home, that is...
Like every day of the "break," I take the opportunity to follow my contract literally and leave at 4pm. Most of my colleagues in my position at other schools do that all the time. In the interest of solidarity, etc etc, I usually stay at school until 5pm, even when I have little to do, and often I am actually working much later than that. Despite the fact that I stay late all the time, and that I am one of about 5 teachers who has been at school every day over the break, I still feel the stink-eye when I go home at 4pm. Feels just like the days of working in the movie biz... I half expect someone to make the crack about working "bankers' hours" that I used to get when putting in less than a 12-hour day when doing payroll (never mind if I had worked 18-hours the day before)...
To think that I moved countries and careers to get AWAY from that unhealthy attitude... oh well.
The Japanese take beginnings and endings very seriously. I was glad I was warned that a formal bow and greeting would be forthcoming from every member of the staff as a way of acknowledging the new year, or I would have been mightily confused as to why all the staff had simultaneously decided to show me extra respect today. I also started to wonder why the bowing didn't happen yesterday, before realizing that we were all too busy shoveling snow to observe the formal ritual. With 95% of the staff back to school today, bows were happening all over the place...
After finishing lesson plans for the remainder of the school year for the 7th grade yesterday, I manage to finish lesson planning for both the 8th AND 9th grades today. So, yes, in 5 days I have planned 3 months of lessons for 3 grades. I'm a first year teacher, mind you. This is my first go-'round with all of these texts. Every time I have a successful lesson, I file it away for next year. For the life of me, I can't figure out what keeps my teachers at school until 9pm every night. Except for not wanting to go home, that is...
Like every day of the "break," I take the opportunity to follow my contract literally and leave at 4pm. Most of my colleagues in my position at other schools do that all the time. In the interest of solidarity, etc etc, I usually stay at school until 5pm, even when I have little to do, and often I am actually working much later than that. Despite the fact that I stay late all the time, and that I am one of about 5 teachers who has been at school every day over the break, I still feel the stink-eye when I go home at 4pm. Feels just like the days of working in the movie biz... I half expect someone to make the crack about working "bankers' hours" that I used to get when putting in less than a 12-hour day when doing payroll (never mind if I had worked 18-hours the day before)...
To think that I moved countries and careers to get AWAY from that unhealthy attitude... oh well.
Monday, January 4, 2010
From the gray desk...
All too soon, winter vacation is over.
My nasty little alarm starts to trill and it is disappointingly dark and much too cold to be waking up for anything, much less an entire day of desk duty (although teachers must report, the kids don't come back until Friday). It's gonna be a loooong day in the staff room.
I get ready and break the hermetic seal on the front door to discover 5cm of new-fallen snow. Since I think snow always makes everything look nicer, I don't mind, and I'm even more relieved to find that it's not slippery as I begin my ride to work.
As usual, I roll into the parking lot at school sweaty and snotty. Unlike usual, about a half dozen teachers are outside, diligently clearing the lot of snow with garden shovels and push brooms. Although I'd much rather go inside and blow my nose and clean myself up (my normal ritual upon arriving at school), since the principal himself is out there sweeping away, I grab a traditional broom (basically, a bundle of sticks) and celebrate my return to work by industriously pushing snow around.
I don't think I've accomplished much, but the teachers all decide we have succeeded in our task, so we head indoors.
I hadn't realized it while outside, but the teachers shoveling away were ALL of the teachers reporting to school today. I take a look at the weekly schedule and I have an AHA! moment: all those weird kanji with the 8s and the 4s next to them? Of course. A listing of the teachers who are taking half and full-days off. All in all, 19 of the 32 or so staff members have taken off. Even the tea lady is out.
I take advantage of the quiet to redo my English Bulletin Board and to finish planning lessons for the 7th graders through the end of the year. Considering school isn't out until the end of March, I feel fairly on-top of things.
Around 3:30, the principal takes pity on me and chases me home. Either that, or he felt like going home early too and didn't want any witnesses.
I stop by Don Quixote for the first time in two weeks or so to load up on corn flakes and organic soy milk. I am somewhat surprised that the little ditties playing on endless loops in each aisle are no longer weird or annoying. In fact, I had kind of missed them. Especially the "Genki for Natto" song... that one's my favorite... (for those of you not in Japan, natto is fermented soybeans that have a consistency somewhat like chunky snot and a smell not unlike dirty feet. Genki is a word that translates as "healthy", but also has connotations of being energetic and peppy. It's not really the first food you'd think of that would have it's own poppy theme song, but at Don Quixote's it does...)
I go to the gym, which has just reopened today after a 2-week remodel. Everything is moved around: I feel like a little kid whose mom has moved all of his toys. The biggest change is that the weight room is now hidden in a corner of the 4th floor. As I lift and look around me at the usual bunch of dudes, I have a realization as to why they have moved Testosteroneville to a new zipcode.
I turn to T, the only regular who speaks English: "You know why they put us back here, don't you?"
He looks at me quizzically.
"So you can't stare at the women on the bikes and the treadmills anymore. You were making them uncomfortable."
He looks around, as the new reality dawns on him. You see, T spends hours in the weight room, but doesn't lift very much. He's mostly there to hang out, practice English, and ogle the pretty ladies. The old weight room had a large window that looked onto the main floor. T would sit there and watch the ladies' butts on the treadmills like it was his own, live widescreen TV.
Within moments, he is gone. I find him later using the relocated machines (I've never seen him do anything other than free weights before), now conveniently located directly in front of the new glass-front yoga room (with a class in session, of course).
"C'mon T, we should sign up for yoga!" I offer.
He shakes his head and continues to stare...
My nasty little alarm starts to trill and it is disappointingly dark and much too cold to be waking up for anything, much less an entire day of desk duty (although teachers must report, the kids don't come back until Friday). It's gonna be a loooong day in the staff room.
I get ready and break the hermetic seal on the front door to discover 5cm of new-fallen snow. Since I think snow always makes everything look nicer, I don't mind, and I'm even more relieved to find that it's not slippery as I begin my ride to work.
As usual, I roll into the parking lot at school sweaty and snotty. Unlike usual, about a half dozen teachers are outside, diligently clearing the lot of snow with garden shovels and push brooms. Although I'd much rather go inside and blow my nose and clean myself up (my normal ritual upon arriving at school), since the principal himself is out there sweeping away, I grab a traditional broom (basically, a bundle of sticks) and celebrate my return to work by industriously pushing snow around.
I don't think I've accomplished much, but the teachers all decide we have succeeded in our task, so we head indoors.
I hadn't realized it while outside, but the teachers shoveling away were ALL of the teachers reporting to school today. I take a look at the weekly schedule and I have an AHA! moment: all those weird kanji with the 8s and the 4s next to them? Of course. A listing of the teachers who are taking half and full-days off. All in all, 19 of the 32 or so staff members have taken off. Even the tea lady is out.
I take advantage of the quiet to redo my English Bulletin Board and to finish planning lessons for the 7th graders through the end of the year. Considering school isn't out until the end of March, I feel fairly on-top of things.
Around 3:30, the principal takes pity on me and chases me home. Either that, or he felt like going home early too and didn't want any witnesses.
I stop by Don Quixote for the first time in two weeks or so to load up on corn flakes and organic soy milk. I am somewhat surprised that the little ditties playing on endless loops in each aisle are no longer weird or annoying. In fact, I had kind of missed them. Especially the "Genki for Natto" song... that one's my favorite... (for those of you not in Japan, natto is fermented soybeans that have a consistency somewhat like chunky snot and a smell not unlike dirty feet. Genki is a word that translates as "healthy", but also has connotations of being energetic and peppy. It's not really the first food you'd think of that would have it's own poppy theme song, but at Don Quixote's it does...)
I go to the gym, which has just reopened today after a 2-week remodel. Everything is moved around: I feel like a little kid whose mom has moved all of his toys. The biggest change is that the weight room is now hidden in a corner of the 4th floor. As I lift and look around me at the usual bunch of dudes, I have a realization as to why they have moved Testosteroneville to a new zipcode.
I turn to T, the only regular who speaks English: "You know why they put us back here, don't you?"
He looks at me quizzically.
"So you can't stare at the women on the bikes and the treadmills anymore. You were making them uncomfortable."
He looks around, as the new reality dawns on him. You see, T spends hours in the weight room, but doesn't lift very much. He's mostly there to hang out, practice English, and ogle the pretty ladies. The old weight room had a large window that looked onto the main floor. T would sit there and watch the ladies' butts on the treadmills like it was his own, live widescreen TV.
Within moments, he is gone. I find him later using the relocated machines (I've never seen him do anything other than free weights before), now conveniently located directly in front of the new glass-front yoga room (with a class in session, of course).
"C'mon T, we should sign up for yoga!" I offer.
He shakes his head and continues to stare...
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