Re-Wired

So even though my instructions were all in Japanese, and despite the infuriating fact that Japanese and American Mac menus have different configurations when it comes to System Preferences, I managed to successfully get my laptop hooked back into the interwebbernets without blowing it up.

This post right here is being written from the comfort of my own apartment, where I steadfastly refuse to wear pants indoors until the temperature consistently stays below 20 C. HOORAY! More than you wanted to know.

Speaking of the apartment, I've made some improvements so that it doesn't look quite so dreary and empty of all warmth or comfort. According to the terms and conditions of my contract, my new curtains are technically a no-no because I didn't ask the school if I could put them up. But I really doubt the superintendent is going to evict me for taking down those fugly pastel floral sins against interior decor that pained my eyes on a daily basis before I threw them in my closet. As for that cluttered box in the corner, anyone who has ever lived with me can tell you I just don't feel at home until I've made an ungodly mess somewhere about the premises. IT BEGINS.

It has come to my attention that I don't have a lot of pictures of Shima / Isobe yet, so I will try to remedy that over the weekend. There was a JET outing to Nagashima Spaland (a local water park) planned for Saturday, but it has been raining on-and-off for the past week, and this weekend is supposed to get ugly again so I'm staying home. I should clarify that "raining on-and-off" in Shima / prettymuch all of southeastern Japan means "End-of-Days-caliber downpours for several intervals lasting at least 3 hours each and brief spots of sun in between." I remember lots and lots of rain when I first got to Nagoya two years ago, but not the subway-flooding that was reported there last weekend. Apparently this is a record-setting year for rainfall outside of "the rainy season." AJ tells me that, actually, most of the rain Japan sees comes outside of "the rainy season," and the weather forecasters always do their best to sound surprised and slightly indignant, but no one seems keen on copping to the fact that their parameters for seasonal weather patterns are just plain outdated and need to be changed. Oh, Japan.

The weather hasn't dampened the spirits of my students, though, I'm happy to report. All told I have 6 distinct classes, although one of them is just a smaller group of the same students. 1A and 1B are my first-year English classes, and they're, well, your typical freshmen (except Japanese students don't enter high school until the 10th grade, so by American standards they would technically be sophomores). Slow to warm up and too shy most of the time to give an audible response. The 1A class is more advanced, so they show a bit more enthusiasm.

I have three third-year classes, but my 3A Culture class is pretty much a group of six girls from homeroom 3A getting extra credit for spending an hour goofing off and maybe incidentally learning something. The big 3A class is Reading, and they're a bit of a rowdy bunch, but they do well enough with group activities. They seem to like me well enough to listen to me most of the time, and they're the least shy about volunteering answers on an individual basis. 3BC is a Reading class that AJ and I teach together; there are about 40 students, and the Japanese teacher assigned to the room with us half-jokingly and half-fearfully refers to them as "the monster class." He hangs in back shushing the boys occasionally, and AJ and I are left to our own devices. We're not really held accountable for much more than keeping them occupied for an hour a week.

2A Reading is the only class I haven't taught yet. If my other upperclassmen are any indication, they'll probably be a fun bunch. Shima-ko isn't really a high-performing school, as you may have guessed. I think only about 20% of the students plan on going to college. Many families in and around Isobe live in farming communities, so after completing high school a lot of the kids stay at home to help keep up the rice fields. There aren't a lot of jobs in available in this area, and those that are open usually don't require college degrees. I've even met a guy my age working as a translator in Ise (next city up the road to the north; actually qualifies as a real city, too, although it's not as large as say Tsu, the capital of Mie) and I'm pretty sure he hasn't gone to college. He's one of the younger students in the community English class AJ and I teach every other Tuesday night. I'm pretty sure he only comes to swap music with AJ, though; his level of English is way beyond most of the people there.

Still, it's nice to have mature students who come to class because they want to. Switches it up a bit. And there's a very motherly older woman, Masako, who lives not too far down the road from me and who has questioned me at length about my favorite Japanese foods. In Japan, this is as good as saying "Come to my house and I will cook dinner for you." So I know where I'm headed after work tomorrow (n__n)

I will leave off with a picture of the wee-tiny little crabs that wander all about the town wherever there are drainage pipes leading to the river. They could fit quite comfortably in the palm of my hand, if I were stupid enough to try and pick them up. This little guy is regaining his composure after a tense face-off with a crawfish about twice his size. It was the cutest narrowly-averted-epic-battle I have ever witnessed. Much waving of claws and sideways dancing.