Seated with eight others around a round table in the massive banquet hall of the hotel, I was introduced to the lady beside me. "This is the English teacher," the woman told her. She put her head down, closed her eyes, and shook her head with lips pursed. "It's OK, you can talk to her like normal. She understands Japanese." No response.
Hmm. OK.
Then she was saying to anyone in earshot, "I'm so cold. It's so cold in here. I was told it would be warm, but it's cold. They took my coat."
I offered, "Why don't you go and get your coat," supposing that the number on the paper that was attached to a rubber band around her wrist might somehow signify her checked coat.
Someone took her to get her coat.
No coat.
"This is what you wore when you came here this morning," the caretaker assured as she patted her on her shoulders. "You weren't wearing a coat."
"Would you like to use my shawl? I am atsugari (prone to be warm)," I offered, handing her my colorful woolen shawl.
She motioned "stay back," while saying "No, no," in case I hadn't gotten the point from her body language.
Awkward silence. Then the monologue continued. "I'm so cold. Maybe I should just go home."
Again the caretaker was by her side. "I will ask the hotel staff if they have a lap blanket you can use."
It was too small. Another woman gave her her shawl. She was now bundled up. Little blanket on lap. Gray shawl around shoulders.
Quiet.
Then the food service began.
"Oh this sashimi is delicious. It's so delicious!"
"That's the first positive thing I heard her say. Nice," I thought, relaxing.
"But we need rice. Where is the rice? Only people who eat sashimi while they drink shochu don't eat rice with it. I don't drink. I need rice." (Shochu is a specialty of this prefecture, a distilled alcohol made from sweet potatoes.)
There was no alcohol served.
Rice is always comes just before dessert in fancy Japanese meals. It was going to be a long banquet.
After that auspicious meal, I went to the tax office to file my taxes and was ushered into a room filled with rows of chairs, to join another hundred or more people waiting. Granted, the procedure was very well-organized, but oh, the microbes were palpably swarming in the stagnant air. This awareness was heightened to a skin-tingling perception by the fresh memory of the book I had recently finished, Ed Yong's, "I Contain Multitudes."
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Monday, February 20, 2017
Kindergarten Bingo
One of my favorite activities at the countryside kindergarten is playing picture bingo. For some reason, it is terribly exciting.
After a class that included "Animal Bingo," one bright little boy came running down the hall as I was leaving.
Obviously, still puzzled by one of the animals, he asked, "What's a 'walrus'?"
"A walrus is a seiuchi," I explained in Japanese.
He ran off.
A moment later he was back.
"What's a seiuchi?"
"A seiuchi is a walrus."
As I was putting on my shoes in the genkan, he was back again.
"What's a walrus?"
Then it dawned on me. It was the animal that was the issue.
"Ask your mom to show you a picture of a seiuchi when you get home, OK?" and he was off once again.
Last week, we were setting up to play "Food Bingo." The usual buzz was in the air as the kids compared their papers.
One little boy said, "Look, I have wakame [seaweed]," as he pointed to the lettuce.
His friend answered, "I have a shu-cream [cream puff]," as he pointed to the muffin.
They still have a few things to learn.
After a class that included "Animal Bingo," one bright little boy came running down the hall as I was leaving.
Obviously, still puzzled by one of the animals, he asked, "What's a 'walrus'?"
"A walrus is a seiuchi," I explained in Japanese.
He ran off.
A moment later he was back.
"What's a seiuchi?"
"A seiuchi is a walrus."
As I was putting on my shoes in the genkan, he was back again.
"What's a walrus?"
Then it dawned on me. It was the animal that was the issue.
"Ask your mom to show you a picture of a seiuchi when you get home, OK?" and he was off once again.
Last week, we were setting up to play "Food Bingo." The usual buzz was in the air as the kids compared their papers.
One little boy said, "Look, I have wakame [seaweed]," as he pointed to the lettuce.
His friend answered, "I have a shu-cream [cream puff]," as he pointed to the muffin.
They still have a few things to learn.
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Missy
I have been teaching at a Home for the Disabled for 17 years, where, like all such institutions in Japan, mentally handicapped and physically handicapped people are grouped together. Their needs are so different, yet the physically handicapped just take it all in stride and lend a hand in the care of the others.
My pet peeve is with the helpers. Why, oh why, do they feel they must rush to show my students the answers to the picture bingo game instead of giving them time to process it themselves? I wouldn't even treat a baby like that, and these are adults.
One long-time lady there, I shall call her Missy, is wheelchair-bound, cannot speak (she can squeak out "Hai!" though, which she does with great enthusiasm), can only use one arm, and is a bit spastic, as in that one arm is hard for her to control smoothly. For years, the helpers thought she couldn't understand anything and she would sit at a table to the side, doing nothing. Then one day, they started letting her come to my simple English classes, but even then, they treated her like she was a doll and did everything for her. They pointed to the answer (not always correctly), and put the markers on her picture bingo card for her.
One day she sat beside me, and I noticed that she understood what I was saying. I tried to keep the helpers from "helping" her; she would point to the object I said, and then try to put a marker on it. (We use goishi, plastic "stones" used in the Chinese game Go, as bingo markers.) She was way too spasmodic to do it, but she obviously understood. Great awe spread through the helpers.
As time passed, I noticed that she was the only one who remembered the English words for things (this includes the helpers), and would point to the object when I said the word and before I showed the picture to everyone.
I have also seen gradual improvement in her eye-hand coordination. Now she can gently place the markers right on the correct pictures (most of the time). I've stopped the helpers from clearing up her stones afterwards so that she can have the satisfaction of putting them back in the box. I started her off with just five or so, and now she enjoys putting all 25 of the stones away by herself.
Gratifying progress.
My pet peeve is with the helpers. Why, oh why, do they feel they must rush to show my students the answers to the picture bingo game instead of giving them time to process it themselves? I wouldn't even treat a baby like that, and these are adults.
One long-time lady there, I shall call her Missy, is wheelchair-bound, cannot speak (she can squeak out "Hai!" though, which she does with great enthusiasm), can only use one arm, and is a bit spastic, as in that one arm is hard for her to control smoothly. For years, the helpers thought she couldn't understand anything and she would sit at a table to the side, doing nothing. Then one day, they started letting her come to my simple English classes, but even then, they treated her like she was a doll and did everything for her. They pointed to the answer (not always correctly), and put the markers on her picture bingo card for her.
One day she sat beside me, and I noticed that she understood what I was saying. I tried to keep the helpers from "helping" her; she would point to the object I said, and then try to put a marker on it. (We use goishi, plastic "stones" used in the Chinese game Go, as bingo markers.) She was way too spasmodic to do it, but she obviously understood. Great awe spread through the helpers.
As time passed, I noticed that she was the only one who remembered the English words for things (this includes the helpers), and would point to the object when I said the word and before I showed the picture to everyone.
I have also seen gradual improvement in her eye-hand coordination. Now she can gently place the markers right on the correct pictures (most of the time). I've stopped the helpers from clearing up her stones afterwards so that she can have the satisfaction of putting them back in the box. I started her off with just five or so, and now she enjoys putting all 25 of the stones away by herself.
Gratifying progress.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
In the Shade of Sakurajima
 |
| Photo taken December, 2012 from Shiroyama |
Should we be worried, living in the shadow of this active volcano? Will we suffer the same fate as the Pompeians?
 |
| Casts of corpses found in Pompeii's Garden of the Fugitives* |
"Have you ever seen a big eruption?" I asked.
"Oh, yes!" one bright woman piped up. "Once at night there was a big explosion and we saw red lava shoot up into the sky. It was beautiful!"
Far less beautiful is what we can face on a daily basis: ash.
Like snow, but gray.
Worse than ash is black ashy rain. Everything outside turns black. One morning, before driving Son #4 to school, I hosed off my car, dodging the splashing water and trying not to step in the ash/mud puddles. After dropping him off, I saw another eruption in the distance. Back home and safely indoors, more black rain fell. My car was black again. Clean rain would have been nice.
Another day, on my way home from running at the countryside sports park, I noticed a huge cloud of ash in the far distance. As I drove, I kept an eye on it. Within five minutes it had spread across the sky and more ash was billowing upwards - it didn't stop for the twenty minutes I watched. Undeniably, watching a volcano erupt is awesome.
Not long after, the local news reported on an emergency drill held that day for the people of Sakurajima. They had enacted what they would need to do if an eruption such as the one in 1914 occurred (which is what is being predicted). People, wearing helmets and masks, were evacuated from Sakurajima over to the city by ferry. Then a drill was held as to what to do during a tsunami - which would conceivably follow an eruption and its accompanying earthquakes.
As of today, February 5, 2017, Sakurajima has has not erupted since July 28, 2016. Lava is pooling underground to the north of us, building up pressure that will eventually force its way under the bay and out of the active southern vent. Volcanologists have raised the alert to level 3.
Level 1: Potential for increased activity
Level 2: Do not approach the crater
Level 3: Do not approach the volcano
Level 4: Prepare to evacuate
Level 5: Evacuate.
How long will that pressure cooker hold out?
* By Lancevortex - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0
Far less beautiful is what we can face on a daily basis: ash.
Like snow, but gray.
 |
| July 30, 2012, five days after an eruption. Note the sky. This is a color photo. |
Another day, on my way home from running at the countryside sports park, I noticed a huge cloud of ash in the far distance. As I drove, I kept an eye on it. Within five minutes it had spread across the sky and more ash was billowing upwards - it didn't stop for the twenty minutes I watched. Undeniably, watching a volcano erupt is awesome.
Not long after, the local news reported on an emergency drill held that day for the people of Sakurajima. They had enacted what they would need to do if an eruption such as the one in 1914 occurred (which is what is being predicted). People, wearing helmets and masks, were evacuated from Sakurajima over to the city by ferry. Then a drill was held as to what to do during a tsunami - which would conceivably follow an eruption and its accompanying earthquakes.
As of today, February 5, 2017, Sakurajima has has not erupted since July 28, 2016. Lava is pooling underground to the north of us, building up pressure that will eventually force its way under the bay and out of the active southern vent. Volcanologists have raised the alert to level 3.
Level 1: Potential for increased activity
Level 2: Do not approach the crater
Level 3: Do not approach the volcano
Level 4: Prepare to evacuate
Level 5: Evacuate.
How long will that pressure cooker hold out?
 |
| Ash cloud filling the sky. |
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47499
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)