Patricia Danielle

today the air con was on in the teachers room but i was still sweaty and hot. thank goodness ms shimowada was in the teachers room so i could tell someone how HOT it was.

“i know the air is on, but it is still so hot in here.”

“that’s because the temperature is set to 28 degrees celcius.”

“isnt that kind of high! thats almost 85 degrees farenheit. its too hot in here.”

“cocho sensei says we need to conserve energy.”

“ok. well, how much could it be to drop it a couple degrees? ill pay for it.”

“you know the kyoto treaty?”

“yeah.”

“america is one of the only countries that doesnt agree to it.”

“yeah, because we like to spend money. and we’re all about hats best for us.”

“so, youre a true american in the teachers room. you are not in agreement with the temperature and conserving energy.”

“yep. thats me. proud to be an american.”

last night i had blueberry pancakes in my dream.

do you know how long it has been since ive eaten blueberry pancakes? about as long as its been since i had starbursts……which, i randomly remembered today during 3rd period.

last thursday morning, when i got to school, i noticed that all of the students were in their PE uniforms. since this time of the year is always made up of a million different physical checks, i figured one was scheduled for first thing in the morning until i saw all of the students headed for the sports field. i asked ms. shimowada what was going on.

“we will pick up weeds for 15 minutes.”

“15 or 50?”

“of course, 50!”

so i had to use my favorite “i can do ANYTHING for (insert time here) 50 minutes!”

while i was following one of the classes to a place to pick weeds, i told ms shimowada, “this adds to my “ridiculous things we do at school” list. she told me to “please help the students. or just sit and pretend.” i spent all 50 mintues picking weeds. even the tiniest of them. picked.

but i had to be thinking of something while i was spending 50 minutes in the MISERABLE humid, wet, hot, thick aired, moka “rainy season” weather. i sat there and tried to think of the last time something happened at school that i added to the “list.” but i couldnt remember it.

that is, until yesterday when i was told that the teachers all had to go to the kendo gym for the yearly “sensei competition.” this year’s game: indoor bowling. thinking that i was going to be able to leave early, the added hour to my day for “fun with teachers” wasnt very fun for me. thats ok, just one more thing for the “list.” which, also reminded me of last time i was forced to do something “ridicuous.” it was just a couple of weeks ago! the day that i had to go to the kendo gym with the rest of the teachers to learn how to use “the sticks!” god bless this place.

so. the 3 most recent “ridculous things we do at school” are:

1. learning how to use “the sticks” as a defense mechanism against “strangers.”

2. picking weeds in “rainy season” for 50 minutes.

3. playing indoor bowling where i learned that though i was on the winning team again this year, it happens to only be because i am on cocho sensei’s (the principal’s) team and he gets mad if he loses, therefore, the teachers are very sure that he never does. i have the most appropriate song for him:

no fun. no fun. cocho sensei is no fun.

-during one of my dentist visits a few years ago, my dentist asked me how often i flossed. i guess the look i gave was a good enough answer for her, and she encouraged me to start flossing at least once a day. i started that night. and i continued through the week, until late one night, I got floss stuck in between teeth and i could do nothing to get it out. after pulling and tugging, the floss finally spilt in two, but there remained a small piece somewhere between the teeth. no joke, i had to make an emergency run to the dentist the next day to get the floss out because it wasnt coming out on its own accord, and it felt horrible. i honestly had no idea how she was going to find the particle of floss, let alone get it out. that is until she broke out her secret weapon of the world’s toughest floss ever. she told me that it can withhold some odd amount of tons without breaking. TONS. floss! thats amazing.

-along the “floss” line of talk, thank goodness marin sent me some more floss. i finally found some in the store for the bargain price of 815 yen. thats almost 8$ for a roll of floss!

-this morning while i was running, i saw a man walking across the street from the “yakuza” house. yukuza is the “japanese mob” as far as i know. when i first got to moka, on the “get aquainted with moka” bike ride led by douglas, we rode by the house and he pointed out “thats the moka house for the japanese mob.” at first i believed him. then, as time went by, i began to question it. i mean, there were always nicely dressed men coming in and out of the house, they were almost always wearing sunglasses (known to only be done by the yakuza and foreigners), and yeah, they were always driving SUPER nice mercedes, but, whos to say that all of  this automatically classifies them as “yakuza?” that is until i saw the man this morning. i had read about the practice of the yakuza to “cut off the top joint of their little finger when they make a serious mistake, do something that embarrasses the gang, costs the gang money, or causes dissent within the ranks. It is also a way to apologize when they can’t pay a debt, to end a feud, or to settle a dispute. The practice is called yubizume and is actually an old samurai tradition” so when i saw the guy, i made sure to take a look at his pinkies. sure enough…..the one on his left hand was cut off. so….i now 1. belive the house to belong to the yakuza in moka and 2. no longer stare at the house the whole time i am passing it. it freaks me out now. now. you know, some 2 years after living about a block away from it. great. 

-yesterday while i was talking to kyoto sensei, telling him about my weird sleeping pattern lately, and that i really dont know why, he gave me 3 suggestions:

1. “you’re nervous to return home.” nervous, huh? anxious maybe. nervous, no.

2. “you need sports.” in his own little way, he was telling me that i needed to be more active so my body could be tired when it is sleep time, and awake when it is awake time. but here’s the deal. i run 35 minutes in the morning, i walk 35 min at lunch, and i ride my bike to school and home for a total of about 45 min on a bicycle on school days. im thinking that theres enough “sport.”

3. “take a drink.” as in alcohol? i dont drink, so this one’s not going to work for me. his rebuttal to that was “a drink makes good sleep.” im pretty sure i know a 40-something-year-old  man from beligium who would agree.

straight from the good ol’ india pictures!

in knowing how much God loves me, loved me, and will always love me, i bought this book in order to share the truths with someone else. i wanted to read it before handing it off:

“Only if we are desperate enough for what we are seeking will we endure the struggle and overcome the obstacles to find what we are looking for. Desperation enables us to press through the seeking process.”

“What you look at longest will become strongest in your life. So focus your eyes on the wonderful promises of God.”

“the same sun that melts butter, hardens clay.”

everyone should read this book:

after hillary clinton’s book, the next autobiography i read will be nelson madella’s. it’s a good motivation to finish “Watership Down” to move onto finishing “Hillary Clinton: Living History.”

 ”Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. . . . Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, to be gorgeous, talented, and fabulous. Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that others won’t feel insecure around you. We are born to make manifest the glory of God within us. And as we let our light shine, we consciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

from President Nelson Mandella Inaugural Speech, 1994.

some days there are things happening that i feel like i shouldnt write about. just putting words to my thoughts and feelings seems like it will all become more “real” and i dont need that.

this morning i read a magazine article abut how just pretending to be happy or staying positive can turn reality into such. i get it. I know i can get through anything. i find myself reasoning everything with “i can do anything for..(insert number here)….minutes/hours/days.” when im  in class its minutes. when its the day, im thinking in hours. and come the countdown to going home, im now thinking days. as in today’s thought, “i can do anything for 27 days.”

i know i can.

last year there was a 9th grade boy who had a deep scar from his the corner of his mouth to his chin. for some reason, i was captivated by it. almost to the point of being jealous. one day during lunch, i asked the japanese english teacher to ask him what happened. in a country where diferences are looked-down upon, posing a student with a question about one of his obivous differences, turned out really bad. he first played it off, then he got silent, then he got pissed. when i left the room, i felt horrible. i went looking for the my english/japanese dictionary to figure out a way to tell him more than “sorry.” i never did figure it out, but things eventually blew over.

you’d think i would have learned.

last week at the end of class, the students were all standing as we finished class, and we said goodbye. i noticed a huge scar on the arm of one of the boy’s in the front row. i grabbed his arm and asked mr. ishikawa to ask him what happened. the boy just looked at me in HORROR. without asking, mr ishikawa told me that something had probably happened to him when he was younger. obniously. but i realized what he was doing. pointing out differences here is not a good thing. whereas in the states kids are told that scars show experience and character, here, that just isn’t the case. so again, i left the room feeling so… ”im the worst american english teacher in the world” feeling. darn-it!

i guess i had’nt learned.