thoughts from a week's distance

Another TGIF, the last of my promised series on my time in Japan. A week late, but more reflective than it would have been last Friday.

A week and 12 hours ago, I departed from Tokyo's Narita Airport, aboard a Boeing 777, headed for O'Hare, where I would argue with TSA about whether or not 2oz bottles of liquid had to be labeled, and then board a 727 for a very sleepy two hour flight to Providence, my home.

Every day since I've returned I've been asked how my trip was. And rarely at those moments have I had a terribly concise answer, nor do I feel any more capable of giving one now. The short, and entirely non-representative answer is to say that it was amazing. But in my life, I've described many things as amazing: learning to ride a fixed-gear bicycle; learning to build bicycle wheels; working with 15 students for all four years of high school; a dark chocolate cake with orange-infused butter cream frosting and a raspberry compote made for a friend's birthday; sex; the photos captured by my digital SLR.

I find that English falls short of providing me with terms effective for describing my reaction. It's said that the Eskimo language includes some 20 words for snow, and I know that Japanese provides easily 5 different words for tuna: language adapts to include descriptive nouns for things which are most important for a culture. Words I'd like to use for the trip make me think I should have deleted less of the new age music that I got from Charly Adler: life-changing, thought-provoking, inspirational. (Those terms also instill in me a fear of being charged with over-hypenation.)

Thinking about it now, in the hindsight of re-entry into the US, I must approach the topic in pieces. The major areas of my learning and observation were:

• the Japanese educational system


• a general overview of Japanese society and culture


• digital photography workflow


• Americans being asked to work within Japanese group-think


• my future life goals and aspirations


• my personal highlights from the trip

The Japanese Educational System

My first introduction to the Japanese educational system came while I was writing my application to the Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund Teacher Program, last October and November. I did a bit of research on the web, and I found TIMSS results that showed Japanese students outperforming most of their international peers on standardized math tests. I read more, and found an analysis that Japanese teachers heavily favor spending classtime with students discussing and working to understand the concepts underlying the mathematics they're learning, and that there is a nearly zero interruption rate in Japanese classrooms, by either students or administrators. Needless to say, I got really excited. This sounded like a system where students were encouraged to form their own ideas, to share those ideas, and that this all happens in an orderly environment where everyone is respected and appreciated. Observing mathematics instruction in Japanese classrooms became a part of my goal for the trip, and went into my follow-on plan.

Over the summer and into the fall the Institute of International Education and also the JFMF sent me information on Japanese schools, to provide background knowledge. Compulsory education only goes through 9th grade; senior high school (years 10, 11, and 12) and optional, but attended by 97% of the population. And so on.

The third meeting with education in Japan came in Japan, on a lower level of the New Otani Hotel in Tokyo. The topic was Education Reform in Japan, but the lecture didn't fit that description very well. We heard a lot about the problems in Japanese education: kids who can't think creatively enough, kids who aren't good problem solvers, kids who rebel from the strong traditions of Japan, kids who don't value harmony the way the rest of the culture does. We heard about declining test scores, knew lots or reasons reform is needed, but heard nothing about reform, nothing about their plans or initiatives or where ideas for reform are coming from. This I found strange.

There is an idea still kicking around in my head: how did the US-led rebuilding of Japan after WWII change the Japanese educational system? It seems there are many parallels and similarities in our two countries' educational systems, both problems and strengths. Is this the result our rebuilding the infrastructure of the country? Am I wrong in my observations and deductions of the similarities? Certainly an area of research...

And at that, it's time for me to send this to be published... I'll continue writing my thoughts on my blog, and could publish them in TGIF's, if people are interested. Otherwise, find it on my blog: kipinjapan.blogspot.com.

Finally, one more thing: I owe my thanks, one more time, to the staff of Shepard who supported me and my students in making this trip possible.

Ja mata!
-キップ-
Kippu

sitting at Shogan's Mountain Villa...update from the last few days...

Konbonwa!

It was Friday when last I updated, so forgive me as I outline my thoughts of the last two days, when have been incredibly hectic and filled. Currently I'm sitting on the grass, separated by 3 feet and a handful of rocks from a koi pond being fed by a small waterfall. We're staying tonight at a Ryokan - a traditional Japanese inn, a bed and breakfast. Traditional and modern at the same time: beautiful architecture and surroundings, tatami floors in the rooms and futon mattresses will be pulled out while we're eating dinner to sleep on, but with a flat-screen TV in the room, locking doors, and electric paper lamps to illuminate the garden I'm sitting in when it gets dark. There is however, no internet access. So this'll be another posting that sits for a day before being sent out. Tomorrow we wake here, I'll visit the communal bath, and then we're off to the Kumamoto airport to return to Tokyo. On Wednesday we make a presentation to the other 180 teachers, and we hear theirs, sharing highlights from our host cities. And then, both finally and sadly, I depart from Tokyo's Narita airport on Thursday morning, to return to Providence that same afternoon, thanks to the International Date Line.

But that's the future, and there's a good 72 hours that need to be chronicled. And that's where we go next...

I'm going to write the events as a series of posts...order be damned.

-Kippu

The Homestay, day 2

or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb** Kubrick reference...

Sunday morning, had breakfast with the family. Eggs cooked Japanese-style - which means effectively an omelette that's been rolled into a, well, a roll, and then sliced into pieces, perfect for eating with chopsticks. We also had left-over salad from the night before, some fruit, and a wonderful hot drink called soba, made from the same stuff as soba noodles. I was sent back with some to make on my own. It's supposed to be good for the blood.

So we get into the car, head out to the ferry landing, to cross the Ariake Sea, over to Nagasaki. The drive was easy and quick. I passed the time sharing my camera with the older son, and working on my Japanese with the younger one. Eventually I took out my Japanese phrasebook, and began saying whatever was on the page I opened to at random. I think this gave the family quite a thrill...

On the ferry we parked the car and went above deck. It seems my host father knows everyone - on the ferry there, and again on the way back, we met former colleagues from his schools, former students, and younger sisters of his former students. And everyone was welcoming and warm, and an English teacher tried his skills out on me. I must admit that his English improved more than my Japanese did...

Then we arrived at Nagasaki, parking near a gift shop (with some great t-shirts!), and walked to the peace statue, then down the peace memorial mall, finally to the atomic bomb museum, our true destination.

I have been asked frequently what I thought of the museum, how moving it was, heartbreaking, heartwrenching...and I haven't really known how to reply. So here's a summary:

The museum is very well put together. It features remains of Nagasaki that have been brought together, including pieces of local churches and schools, clothes of people exposed to the blast, and small pieces of glass, formed into beads after stained glass windows were turned instantly molten and then instantly cooled again. There was also a section describing the physical conditions at the moment of the blast: incredible temperatures and pressure at the hypocenter, the incredible winds blowing structures over and deforming huge pieces of metal, the layer of oil of water in the bay rendering it undrinkable. There is a wealth of information on the effects of radiation associated with the detonation of the atomic bomb, going into depth about the immediate and long-term effects. There are testimonies by both short- and long-term survivors, and a memorial to a foreign doctor who was in Nagasaki at 11:02 on August 9th, and worked to help as many people as he could, before finally succumbing to radiation sickness years later. And there is poetry:

The words of surrender
Mingle with the flames
Of my wife's funeral pyre
-Atsoyuki Matsuo

And finally, nearly half of the museum, is dedicated to the mission of peace and nuclear disarmament. There are excepts of letters from scientists and politicians stating their concerns over the use of nuclear weapons; there is an enormous amount information on the history of nuclear technology, both in weapons production and energy-creation, and accidents related to both uses; there are thousands of origami cranes, folded to ask for peace in the world.

Ample evidence is given to support the viewpoint of the atomic bombs that I have come to understand while in Japan: it is a travesty that the bombs were dropped, but to move forward means to remember it and to learn from it, working to ensure that it is never repeated in the human future. (Two hours ago I read of the North Korean nuclear test, the UN's sanction response, and the NK response to it as a 'declaration of war,' citing principally the US's need for control. In Nagasaki, at the peace statue, there were a group of people protesting the actions of North Korea; at that point, I had not idea this was happening.)

Lunch that afternoon was in Chinatown. (I let my host father pay the ¥200 admission fee for the museum, on the understanding that I would be allowed to buy lunch. Turns out, even in Japan, it's not uncommon to back out of a deal.) Food had nothing in common with Chinese food I've had in the past. Not better, not worse, but I must admit I'll stick with my General Tso's chicken.

Then the day was over, so we headed back to the ferry. Late. Missed the ferry. We called Naoko-san to apologize, and it turns out she made a reservation for 15 of us for dinner that night.

We got back at 6, two hours late. Out to dinner with my host family, Jean and her host daughter (Hikomi) and Hikomi's sister, Miki-san (our wonderful translator), Virginia, MaryAnn, and another woman, a tea ceremony performer, who wanted me to teach her English.

After dinner, bowling. Even in Japan, bowling is exactly the same, and I'm not better than in the states. What I would have given for a pool table...

キップ

The Homestay, day 1

JFMF staff in Tokyo worked with a fair amount of zest to prepare us for the homestay. Horror stories abounded...or just one. In Japan, the traditional evening bath consists of washing oneself before entering the tub, lathering well and then rinsing off very carefully. And then, once thoroughly cleaned, getting into a piping hot bath. We were told of one JFMF'er who splashed the water in the bath to give the impression of having gone in, and having not fooled the people who needed fooling - the host family. There was the advice of getting in and not cooling the water off, just getting used to the temperature slowly, because usually the family would invite the guest to go first, and the rest of the family would be sharing the same water. There was the advice to not drain the water, for the reason just mentioned. We were told to be sure to bring pj's with us, and to use the toilet first - the toilet and bath are separated in Japanese culture.

And there were of course other concerns. How much English would the family speak? How to avoid awkward silences? How to communicate food preferences? How to adequately thank people for having us? What if we totally hated the food they served us? What if we just didn't get along?

Each of these ran through my head, but only for a while. Last Monday we met our host families, just for an hour. But that was enough to ensure that I'd recognize them when I saw them again, yesterday. It also gave us a chance to talk and make plans for our time together: I deemed to say that I liked to cook, and Saturday night I baked two pizzas for my host family. (Not my greatest work, mainly due to my own insecurity, fear, and perhaps a bit of the quality of the cheese and flour, but they seemed to like it, even the two boys who may not yet know how to smile and fake it.)

Then 4 days passed, including one trip to the internet cafe, from whence my last posts were sent. And I want to interject a bit about the internet cafe, because it is very notable. It was located in Omuta City, in the Fukuoka province, a 20 minute cab ride away from Arao City in Kumamoto, where we were staying. Arao is the size and feel of Coopersville, Michigan...small, agricultural, and Omuta is more like Grand Rapids. Kumamoto and Fukuoka are two of the 47 prefectures in Japan, very akin to our states in governmental terms. So, 20 minutes in a cab, and we're at the internet cafe. We go in...they're nice to the gaijin...and they set us up. This place is wild. Easily 40 little stalls with desktop computers, plus another 15 that are a bit bigger with futons and wide desks, and some even with two machines. People come here to play video games, chat online, watch movies (there was a DVD selection you could choose from), read manga, play pool, sing karaoke, drink unlimited soda, coffee, and eat soft serve ice cream. Cost was ¥500 for 1 hour, or ¥1100 for 5 hours. And naturally, they're open 24 hours. There was a magazine selection, everything from technology to Asian pornography. All included in the price. Probably an interesting place to visit at 3am.

Internet cafe comes and goes...2 hours later we're back at Hotel Verde in Arao. Off to a restaurant purported to serve basashi - raw horse meat. Not my favorite Japanese dish, but felt I should try it - and Andrew and Jenny were quite excited...who am I to say no? We went, ordered Mr Ed and chicken and salad and sushi. I tried a tiny bit - about the size of a dime...I did swallow, but didn't take a second bite. I was done. Went to the grocery store, bought a gift bag and a bottle of sake to take to my host family, and was done for the night.

Saturday morning, the day started off with a tea ceremony. I made traditional Japanese tea for my host father, Isao; his wife, Etsuko, was performing in the tea ceremony, looking beautiful in her kimono, the younger son, Hikaru, was running around, and the other, Rikaru, was at home asleep. Traditional tea used in the tea ceremony is powdered, so it brews quickly, meaning that it tends to be bitter. This tea was no exception, hence it's always served with some sweets, eaten before the tea. Then we went into the tatami room to experience a truly traditional tea ceremony, prepared by a master who's been doing it for (I'm trying to remember here) 70 years.

After tea, we had lunch with our host family (again, dad and youngest son), and then departed for the host home. Mom was still cleaning up from the tea ceremony, so she came back later. So dad and I sat at the kitchen table and talked: things we like to do, educational systems in Japan and the US, his work as a vice-principal, etc. Mom came home, we all talked, and then went to the grocery store. The list included cheese and vegetables to make a pizza, as well as a sizable hauling of sushi. We returned home, I began making dough, as as it was rising dad and the two sons and I went to see the sunset on top of a mountain home to a Shinto shrine. Beautiful.

Somewhere in here it occurred to me...I'm really relaxed. Their house is, in many ways, Japanese. Slippers or socks are worn indoors; specific slippers are always worn to the toilet; the sons share a room of tatami floor where futons are put down at night. But it's also quite Western: clutter in most corners of the house, signs and labels in English, cuckoo clocks in the kitchen...and did I mention the clutter? It felt very much like being at home.

Dinner was great: baked salmon, a salad, sushi and pizza (which I made for them!). I had a bit of the sake I brought, and dad finished the rest of it. Then we headed out for the department store to do some shopping, which they helped me with - thank god. No way I could have gotten all the information we were being given. Then home...and to the bath.

And this is, frankly (upcoming pun fully intended), where it gets most interesting. First floor, there's the bath room...literally, where the family bathes. I'm told to go first. I go to my room, get my pj's, and return. I close the door, and get undressed...and the door opens...it's the youngest, Hikaru, son who needs to finish brushing his teeth. And he seems to think nothing of the totally naked white guy who's looking rather mortified. 30 seconds later he leaves, I breathe again, and go into the next room, which closes with a shower door, because it is in fact, a very large shower. There's a deep tub, as well as an area of the floor which can drain, where you wash yourself. I turn on the water...and the younger son comes in again. Me, just as mortified. He proceeds to tell me, very nicely, which soap to use for my hair (in Japanese, but with infinitely useful hand gestures) and for my body (likewise, Japanese and universal 'body soap' gestures). And then leaves.

I stand there for a second, laugh out loud, and begin to wash. Things go well, I realize I really like this system. And then the bath. Again, I've been told it's really, really hot. So I put a toe in - I can sacrifice a toe in the name of all that's important to my body...and it's okay. Really okay. Warm, hot even, but bearable. And not even in that one-inch-at-a-time-oh-god-i'm-only-up-to-my-shins kind of bad, but rather the ohhh-nice-I-can-sink-right-in kind of feeling. So I do.

And shortly thereafter I remember the question being asked about baths while we were still in Tokyo...once you get in, how long so you stay? The answer: it's going to be so incredibly hot, you should go for 5 minutes as a goal, but you may not make it. And here I am, in a really wonderful bath, great temperature calm and peaceful, and having lost all sense of time. So a few more deep breaths, a bit of playing with a squirt gun left on the side of the bath (love houses with kids), and I extricate myself, towel off, say my thanks, and go to bed.

The bed stood about 20 inches from the floor, and consisted of 2 tatami mats on a bed frame, with a 2" futon mattress on top. Absolutely wonderful sleep that night. I woke up at 7:15 in the morning, went downstairs for breakfast...and that's where the story stops for the moment. See Homestay Day 2 for the continuation...

TGIF - again, another Met thing

Please bear with me gentle reader: these musings are directly specifically at the staff of the Met in Providence and Newport, Rhode Island.

Ohayo gozaimas! (Good morning!) 7am on Friday morning in the City of Arao, in the Kumamoto Prefecture, on the Kyushu (que-shew) Island, sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Verde. The overwhelming color theme is green...could you have guessed?

I've been rereading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, fitting for a number of reasons. First, Zen is a flavor of Buddhism that developed in Japan, with the belief that enlightenment could be achieved within a single lifetime; I am currently in Japan. Buddhism and enlightenment are very much internally-focused; when I travel, inevitably 51% of the learning I do is about myself and very personal. I miss my bicycles deeply; a bicycle is kinda like a motorcycle. The author talks in the style of a Chataqua (I may have butchered the spelling), telling a long, winding story; I feel I could do the same with my learning while I've been here. Finally, the author makes a statement just after the title page, which I'll paraphrase here: 'This book is not a fair representation of the body of thought which is Zen Buddhism, and it isn't very accurate about motorcycles either'; likewise, this portion of my Chataqua isn't a great representation of what I've learned, and it isn't very accurate about Japanese culture either. Still, Pirsig and I have both made honest attempts. Reading Zen on the plane got my head into the space of a Chataqua - almost as a motorcycle trip would (oh, and I want to move to Japan and buy a Confederate Hellcat).

Beginning, as Pirsig did, with surface-level observations, it seems at first that Japan and the US exist as a world of dichotomies. As if I were making a Venn diagram, I'll start with the center piece. Our educational systems are very similar: students attend three schools through their career (elementary, junior high and senior high schools); teachers get frustrated with students who aren't engaged, aren't thinking creatively, budget restraints, families who aren't supportive enough, not being paid enough for the amount of time spent working; teachers hope for the best for their students; there is a desire for reform, but no definite plan for how to make that happen; there is an attempt at balance between academic demands and the desire to allow students to grow as people, enjoying their lives and education, and growing at their own pace.

Differences seem to be much fewer: Japanese teachers and schools seem to get much more respect than in the states (but when we meet with parents we may see a set of different feelings); the schools we've seen (and this may be a function of visiting Arao, a largely rural area, or that I've taught in Baltimore and Providence, two rather urban areas) place importance on the physical space of the school, including green, landscaping and the quality of the building spaces; students here engage in daily cleaning of the school space, as a way of building community and taking responsibility. A really fantastic idea.

Today we're at Arao Third Junior High School, aka Arao Daisan JHS (san is three). In order to make things fluid for myself, and readable for you, throughout this post I will be taking notes from the meetings we have with faculty of the school, and will be formatting those in italics.

The school motto here is: 'Beautiful Flowers Always Have Brilliant Roots', and they strive to deliver 'Education Centering on Fundamentals and Basics.'

Schools often say that discipline is a very important issue in education; I wonder if this is a reference to teacher-imposed discipline, or if it is rather self-discipline which they want to instill in students. A statement was just made that they work to instill discipline by various school functions such as trips to climb mountains and camping; challenging students to pull through difficult situations would seem to imply a focus on self-discipline, which supersedes teacher-inspired discipline. I should try to remember to ask that later.

Looking into deeper places...
Japanese culture places strong emphasis on duty, harmony, and peace. School culture is built around small duties given to students - such as cleaning, taking care of plants and greeting visitors. (Present at the Met, but not everywhere.) There is an obvious dichotomy between individuals and the society which must be wrestled with: youngsters have a desire to express themselves, but society frowns on that; even when kids have been seen to have freedom (like walking around in Shibuya in Tokyo) they still conform to certain standards...boys wearing jeans and torn or weathered suit coats, and girls in short skirts with calf- or knee-high boots...these outfits are so ubiquitous to be entirely conformist.

The focus on conformity has some really interesting effects on the education methods I've seen in classrooms. Largely, a lecture style of teaching is used. A math class, in the first 30 minutes, students said hello to the teacher, and then for about 2 minutes, after he'd been talking for a while, he asked students to reinforce the learning with each other; definitely a great technique, but it doesn't go far enough.

Kumamoto style of education: thorough and pro-active. The school uses no bells to indicate end of courses; instead, they want students to develop self-reliance. A book I must read, TR Reid's Confucius Lives Next Door.

So there are some things I'd like to make clear, and may be, in doing so, wrapping up today's Chataqua. First, I am quite enamored with Japan and its culture: dichotomies thrill me, and this is an onion which allows, even asks itself to be peeled back, revealing yet deeper layers and hidden secret; tatami mat rooms and rice-paper walls and sliding doors and natural light and natural wood colors all make me feel happy and serene; the architecture here is simple and calming and focusing, even when it is mixed with modern materials and building techniques. And their educational system hasn't had it easy: we destroyed the country's infrastructure during WWII (most of which was decimated even before the two atomic bombs were dropped), and then we helped them rebuild from there. There is a natural evolution to an educational system, and I wonder if WWII didn't change it in some way, taking it from what it would have been now, putting it off course. A few years ago there was educational reform in the country, resulting in the shortening of the hours students spend in school, with the hope of families having more influence over students; in the view of our handler/wrangler, Naoko-san, it was a failure.

Tomorrow is, for me, the pinnacle of this journey. We begin our home stay...at 1030 we have a tea ceremony with our host families, then at 1300 we depart with them for 26 hours. I am absolutely thrilled. I know that tomorrow I'll wake nervous and scared, but that will wane quickly and I'll be excited as all get out.

Thoughts of my students run rampant, even and especially here. There are so many things said about the Japanese school system, and children here, that are addressed by things at the Met, and some concerns are exactly the same. I wonder how well students get socialized here. Boys will be boys, and girls, girls. Which means that boys are often roughhousing with each other, and you can see some who are clearly a bit more mature and stand back just a little bit. And girls get giggly...that's their initial reaction to most stressors it seems. There is so very little student input during class - entirely teacher-centered - and the kids are well-behaved enough that it probably seems like it works. But even here, in a society which prefers peace and homogeneity, where we're told that the saying 'the nail which sticks up gets hammered down' still stands, kids who stand out in class are encouraged or forced to remain silent. Kids who don't get it or are falling behind do, and those who have the opportunity to excel and move beyond the limits of what the teacher is presenting at that moment don't, probably get bored, eventually frustrated, and probably don't meet their potential. I don't know how to ask about that and be politically correct (ie. be ye not the nail), elsewise I would.

So, the question which begs to be asked....would it be possible to open a Big Picture School in Japan???

I kid you not...I can see it now...

Advisory on tatami mat floors, eveyone wearing slippers, leaving their street shoes at the entrance way; real world learning for all of us - language for the BPOL coaches and internships and independence for students and families, and continuing the culture of community and harmony while building up the individual's sense of responsibility... A beautiful blending I can envision as beautiful and effective.

And now, just about two weeks into the trip, I must admit I'd give my arm for a think slice of multigrain break from Seven Stars, organic and unsweetened peanut butter from Whole Foods, and tomato-basil soup of ingredients from Scratch Farm, grown in Cranston. But tonight will be basashi (raw horsemeat), sushi, and a wonderful mushroom-rice dish. I'll go easy on the basashi.

Peace-
Kippu

Arao City, Daiichi Elementary School

In Japanese, daiichi means number one (ichi is one).

It is amazing to me, to be reminded of how much the staff of a school, universally, determines the feel of the environment. At the elementary school, we saw the students coming into school. They had time to play together...many of them were riding unicycles, some on stilts, some checking on the chickens and turtle the school keeps in a coop.

The day was spent with time observing in classrooms (we were given the freedom to roam and stop into any classroom we chose), meeting with teachers and administrators, watching a student performance prepared especially for us, eating lunch with a class of students, attending short 'workshops' prepared by students for our visitation, and finally attending a question and answer session with teachers.

Some accumulated facts:
the school teaches 1-6th grade; most lessons are taught as a combination of lecture and practice; lecture is the traditional teaching method, but there is a statement in the school that it is not always effecting, so sometimes students are taken out of the classroom; students are taken camping in various places, students go on field trips (6th graders will be going overnight to to Nagasaki); it is also notable that the math class I saw students were using origami to demonstrate mastery of types of triangles, the calligraphy class was very hands-on with students practicing in writing kanji characters and then gluing them to a board (a really excellent demonstration of student work).

There is a time-frame they call 'integrated study' - and what does that mean? Thanks Ken, for the great question. Answer wasn't entirely clear...what I do know is that starting in 3rd grade students get 105 hours per year of integrated study. The topic for integrated study, as well as textbooks and materials to be used, are at the discretion of the school.

Some students may bring into school issues from their home lives that make it difficult for them to learn...how is this addressed at Daiichi elementary school? There are school counselors...but it sounds like they only work at the middle school level. Homeroom teachers will also talk together about how to help kids, and go further up the food chain as necessary.

Ohayo gozaimas! Final thoughts from the day, prepared the next morning: many things are universal, like teacher jokes about time we spend, amount we're paid, how we're respected, and how kids are. Doesn't matter which side of the planet, some things are exactly the same. Kids have a generally really great attitude; I think the happiness that (most) kids carry has the ability to overcome whatever kinds of pressure to assume a bad mood may exerted by educators. Teachers here seemed to honestly enjoy working with their students.

And at the end of the day, I was absolutely wiped out. Had dinner last night at an Italian place; it was deemed as 'not selling out' because the menu was all in Japanese, and we had to work really hard to get what we wanted. And the food was pretty good.

Today, Friday, is in a middle school. Last school we visit; tomorrow we go to our homestay. Tonight we're getting to the internet cafe so send off a ton of stuff...

Peace,
Kippu

from Arao City, in the Kumamoto Prefecture, on the Kyushu island of Japan

The last three days have been incredibly busy...
It's currently Wednesday afternoon... I need to outline the previous days for the sake of my own memory...

On Sunday we flew from Tokyo to Fukuoka, where we had dinner, explored a bit, and slept.

Monday we visited the Miyazaki Brothers' house. The Miyazaki brothers were heavily influenced by the writing of a Chinese revolutionary, and they worked in their own lives to assist the cause of the Chinese revolution. Monday for lunch we ate at a Japanese-style Korean barbecue restaurant. Fantastic. It's the kind of place were you cook your own meats; we had wonderful beef and pork. Also served: kimm-che, a rice-mushroom dish, a very light broth soup, and refreshing sorbet (potentially pineapple). In the afternoon we created pottery: we made mugs at a center that teaches and preserves Shodai-yaki styles. And at the same location we met our home stay families. This was probably the most moving part of the trip: 20 Japanese families, all willing to bring an American stranger into their homes. I will be staying with the Kodama family: Isao and Etsuko are the father and mother, and they have two sons, Rikaru and Hikaru. They're wonderful people. Their English is very workable (it's certainly more Japanese than I speak), and they're very open to me. I really enjoyed talking to them, even though it was only for 30 minutes or so. I have no doubt that the home stay will be the absolute highlight of my trip to Japan.

Tuesday (yesterday), in the morning we met with the Mayor of Arao; it was incredible, really touching. He was incredibly warm, and although we only met with him for 40 minutes or so, he even came down to wave goodbye to our bus as we were leaving! Lunch was very rushed... and in the afternoon we traveled to Kumamoto university, where we met with students who are studying English education. Notable fact: Kumamoto and Montana and sister states, and many people at Kumamoto university have spent time at the University of Montana. We heard some beautiful music at the university, a duet by a violinist and a koto (similar to a harpsichord). Between the university and the hotel, we stopped by to see Kumamoto castle, a spectacular piece of work. The mote was easily 40 feet deep and 30 feet across, clearly defensible.

Today, Wednesday, has been spent visiting our first school. We broke the group of 20 into two, with one group visiting Arao public high school, and the second, mine and superior, has been at Ariako high school, a private high school. This has been very insightful; there are not enormous differences between this school and typical high schools in the United States. I have seen teachers largely lecturing, students sitting in desks, taking notes, and in some cases, students having side conversations during class. Girls are giggly, and seem to view Americans as pseudo-rockstars, and to hear Andrew say it, I not only get most of their attention, but apparently I enjoy it as well. Who knew? I must say, that when visiting the nursing facility and the teacher wanted me to volunteer to serve as a patient for a sponge bath to be administered by a half-dozen pink clad 19 year old nursing students, I passed, vehemently. Oh, and get your mind out of the gutter; t'was a foot sponge bath I was asked to serve as a patient for.

It is notable that teachers in this school, when asked to compare their school with schools in Tokyo, say that they enjoy the slower and simpler pace of life, which allows them to connect more readily with their students. Definitely a topic that resonates with me...

When asked about school culture, and relationships with students... students with more behavior problems get more attention, they get to sit closer, efforts are made to involve them in school as actively as possible.

Tonight was supposed to be an internet night...looks like it's going to have to wait a day. So this post gets saved, a new one gets started, and the schedule is to get both up tomorrow.

-Kippu