Saturday, May 24, 2008

The Shy and the Bus

’m a bad granddaughter. I admit it. I haven’t seen my grandma since before I went to Japan. That was 3 ½ years ago. So I haven’t seen my grandma since…

Well… it’s been awhile.

I have all these images in my mind of my grandma but they have no relation to anything else. There is no convienient date marking on the bottom corner of my memory.

Last weekend I finally went out to Vancouver and saw my grandma and my sister.

But that’s not the story I want to tell.

I’m a pretty shy person. Once you get to know me, I have a tendency to talk excessively but on first meet, it’s unlucky that I will say anything. I don’t like talking when I don’t feel comfortable… I say stupid things and I don’t like it.

Usually, on the bus, I listen to music. It is the perfect buffer. You have a wall that people cannot penetrate and if someone does say something to you, you can pretend not to hear. In Japan, I used my cell phone as well, as everyone places with their cell phones in those awkward situations that public transit is. Unfortunately, people are not as obsessed with their phones here, so playing with my cell for an hour would look strange. Thus, I’m left with my ipod.

The bus from the ferry was crowded and a bunch of exchange students got on right after me. The guy that sat next to me kept fidalling with his bus schedule. He asked the guy in front of us a bunch of questions. Even though I had Roisin Murphy blasting in my ears, I could tell the Canadian was very confused by the Japanese way of asking questions in English (English learners tend to repeat parts of sentences until they find the word they are looking for). Finally, I pulled off my headphones and asked if the exchange student needed help. He was confused about the bus times. Victoria transit had forgotten a page in the schedule. Very confusing indeed.

For the next hour, he and I had a halting start and stop conversation. The thing I find most interesting about Japanese ESL learners, is they all say the same thing. "I need to study English more." Is this the first sentence they teach in English class? The first Japanese sentence I learned was "toire wa doko desu ka?" which means where is the toilet? followed closely by "niku nashi onegashi shimasu" - no meat please. These are very useful phrases even if you don't understand the response given to the first question. But the Japanese always say how bad their English skills are. Trust me when I say, that everyone that I have met that has attempted to speak English far exceeds any Japanese ability I even picked up.

The other thing many ESL learners say is that Canadians are the easiest to understand. I've heard that in many different countries and from many people from different countries. Apparently we speak clearly and enunciate everything. Then they tell me Australians are difficult. I always tell them that I think Australians are difficult to understand too, especially with some beer in them.

We had just entered Victoria when he asked me the final question that all my conversations with English learners comes to. "How can I become better at English?" I told him what I tell everyone who asks... practice with native speakers. He seemed shocked at this proposition. What? Talk to Canadians? But seeing as he had already told me that I looked Japanese (which they all do at some point, it's a favourite topic), I guess he didn't feel he was talking to a Canadian.

It's funny... I have tons of advice about learning a second language and I never follow it myself. Which explains why I'm still monolingual.

S.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

The Recital

I started belly dance in January. I took it as a bit of a lark, something to do in my spare time. I really enjoy it though. The movement has helped my back and made me a tad more agile.

I never though much about dancing. It is something I love to do and something I do to exercise. A dancer? Me. Hardly.

Then came the day when Asmira mentioned year end show. Suddenly I found my hand in the air. Did I just volunteer for the dance? Yeah I did. But I didn't think much of it.

We learned the dance. It was easy. Compared to the dance in flamenco class, belly dance was easy because the moves repeat over and over. I guess somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I remember learning choreography because I pick it up faster than everyone in my class.

A month passed and suddenly I realized that the show was soon! And I really didn't want to do it. I mean, really, really, really didn't want to do it. I tried to back out by saying my 10 year reunion was that weekend but everyone in my class made me feel guilty, especially since it wasn't that weekend.

So I decided to do it.

Friday, I found myself in a pose on stage, wearing harem pants, a hip belt a vest and a bikini top. Oh, yeah a bikini top. The last time I wore a bikini top I must have been... 18 months? I'm less than thrilled with my mid section and thus, do not expose it to the world. But there I was, on stage, with my breasts bursting out of a bikini top that was too small for me.

The music started and into the Egyptian basic I went. Walking out was fine. The girl opposite me looked like she was about to die. I was fine. Then I turned toward the audience and boom... wobbly legs. Wobble through the bicycle back steps. Paste a smile on my face. Good thing the theatre was dark, because I sure didn't want to see the full house looking on at me in my bikini top and wobbly legs.

Then suddenly I was headed off stage. Brooke grabbed me from behind and whispered a triumphant "we did it!"

We sure did.
How I'm going to do my flamenco dance next month with wobbly legs is beyond me, but I suppose I'll deal with that when I get to it.

S.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

You know you've been at a job too long...

Yesterday I was walking to the store. A car drove by me. The licence plate said 456 BRL.

BRL. The currency code for Brazil.

I laughed.

Clearly I need out. Soon.

S.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Blast from the Gay Past

Two days ago, an email popped into my inbox. The name on the email was Tiane. I stared at it for a few moments. I knew exactly who it was, I was just shocked that an email had come from him.

Two and half years ago, I touched down in Japan. I was scared to be in a foreign country by myself, shocked that I had signed up to stay there a year... worried that I wouldn't meet anyone who I would get along with. The company picked me up and dropped me off at the training apartments where I met the girl who would be my roommate for 2 weeks. Laura was an awesome American, with an Ohio accent and the experience of having lived in Japan for 4 months (amazing in my mind at the time). We clicked immediately and I realized quickly that I was going to be okay.

The next day, there was a knock at our door. We opened the door and there was Tiane. He had just arrived and having no roommate, was lonely.

Tiane is from Toronto (or that area). We got along immediately.

One week into training, he asked me, "Shari, have you gotten with anyone yet?" I was shocked at the question. I was having enough trouble knowing what I was eating, learning how to teach and general culture shock to have even thought about guys.

"Have you?" was my response. I was being sarcastic.

"Yup."

Okay... shocking. He had not only gotten with a guy, but he had done it within ONE HOUR of touching down in Nagoya. In the airport.

Gay men. Sheesh.

The last night I saw Tiane we were at a club in downtown Nagoya. He grabbed my hand, and said "let's dance." He then proceeded to use my hand to grab the ass of every Japanese man on the dance floor. Ah Tiane... the man who's soul purpose for being in Japan was to get some Asian ass.

He quit Peppy soon after starting because he didn't like where they placed him. No gay men in northern Japan apparently.

I haven't heard from him in well over 2 years. But his email is exactly Tiane... and it has taken me back.

Memory is a pleasant and inexpensive way to travel.
S.