Nagasaki

Last weekend, I went to Nagasaki. I'd actually been to Nagasaki once before, when I went to Japan with my mom three years ago. We stayed with a family that she lived with for a while, back before I was born. They are wonderful people, and I'm happy to say that I stayed with them again!

I drove to Nagasaki with my friend Em. We decided to avoid tolls for the first part of the drive, because we weren't in any particular hurry, and that resulted in some gorgeous mountain views. Altogether, it took about five hours-- the speed limits in Japan are pretty low.

When we reached Nagasaki, we met up with our host family and had some delicious home-cooked food. After we ate, they drove us around Nagasaki. Between the ocean, the city, and the mountains, it really is a beautiful place.

They made us a welcome sign in English!

Nagasaki

The above picture is of Hashima, also known as Battleship Island. If I understood correctly (the conversation was in Japanese), it has that name because it looked so much like a ship that it was mistaken for one during World War II. It was a coal mine in the 1890s that has since been abandoned. No one lives there today, as it is not safe.

Near Hashima was a large hill that Em and I climbed. Like everything else that day, it had a gorgeous view. Here's a picture of us on the way back down.

We also went to see a Iojima lighthouse, pictured below. The lighthouse was destroyed when the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Only the stone foundation survived. It was rebuilt later on, but the original foundation is left standing. There was also a mine in the area, and when the mine shut down, the miners' children carved their names into the stone before moving far away from each other for their families' new jobs. The lighthouse is also featured in a movie called Anata E, which I will have to watch at some point.

If you look carefully, you can see the messages scrawled into the stone.

Then, that night, my host mother taught us to make saraudon, which is not to be confused with zarusoba the food that consists of udon dipped into a sauce. It was delicious.

The next day we did some tourism within Nagasaki City. In a lot of ways, Nagasaki is more international than much of Japan, because when the country was closed to most outside trade, Nagasaki continued to trade with the Dutch, who lived on a small island called Dejima. The Dutch were not allowed to visit any other part of Nagasaki. Before the Dutch, Portuguese traders lived there, though we know a bit less about them. As I understand it, Japan did not want foreigners to push Christianity on the Japanese people. Unlike people from other countries, the Dutch were fine with that, and so they were allowed to stay.

I really enjoyed looking at the buildings and reading all the signs about life on Dejima. The Dutch were technically in Japan, but at the same time they weren't really allowed to enter the country. And yet I don't feel bad for them, because from what I could tell by looking at the displays of archaeological findings, they were very well off, especially the captain. I was also interested to learn that some Japanese women lived on the island, working as courtesans. Apparently some of the women were there so long that they gave birth to children. I'm really curious about the stories of those women and their children, but not much information about them seems to have survived.

At the gates to Dejima, which is no longer an island.

The Captain's house on Dejima. I know very little about architecture, but I thought the combination of Western and Japanese styles was really interesting.

 

We also went to China Town and to a beautiful Confucian temple, both pictured above, as well as the Nagasaki Peace Park. The Peace Park, located very close to the hypocenter of the atomic bomb, has statues from all over the world. The statues speak of the horrors of war and of our collective longing for peace.

The statue donated by my own St. Paul, MN. 

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During my last trip to Japan, I went to the atomic bomb museums and parks in both Nagasaki and Hiroshima. I remember finding it particularly strange to be there as an American. Although the bombings happened before I was born and I know they were not my fault, I felt a degree of guilt for what my country had done.

I felt the guilt more strongly this time, because I look at America now and I see a country that is capable of such destruction. We are so riddled with hatred and Islamophobia that I can imagine people rationalizing the kind of mass destruction that happened in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Peace Park shows that people all over the world recognize the necessity of working toward peace. Even seventy-three years later, people make strings of a thousand paper cranes in memory of the tragedy and send them to both cities. But I saw a mismatch between the collective yearning for a peaceful Earth, as demonstrated by the Peace Park, and the world as it looks today. I'd like to say that we've learned our lesson and humanity will never bring about that kind of destruction again, but I just don't know.

They hypocenter of the atomic bomb. I was told that after the war officially ended, American soldiers came to Nagasaki and marked the spot.

There is no good way to transition away from talking about the bomb, so I will just do it abruptly. That night, we went to the top of a mountain to see the night view of Nagasaki. It is considered to be one of the best three night views in the world, and I can see why. The harbor, the lights, the buildings nestled into the mountains like folds in a blanket-- the view could not possibly be captured through pictures (and especially not with a phone camera), but I tried anyway.

I sort of took that second picture as a joke about the claim that we only see the world through technology, which is taking over our lives, corrupting the youth, and so on. That said, I do think a lot about how my reaction to an incredible view is to take out my phone, instead of trying to take in the fullness of what I'm seeing. It might be because I know that I will forget what I'm seeing, or because it's just not possible to really grasp a view like that, and my camera gives me the chance to react to it over and over again. Or maybe I do just like having the picture so that I can send it to my family and put it on my blog. Either way, I did put my phone away after a little bit, and spent a while just staring out at the world.

And then, in the morning, we learned how to make okonomiyaki! I had never had it before, in part because it often contains meat and/or fish, but it was. So delicious.

You can tell from my plate that this was not my first serving.

All in all, I had an amazing trip. Teaching is exhausting, along with language barriers, cultural differences, and always feeling like a guest in my seven different schools. Sometimes I do need to laze around like I did this weekend. (That was partly due to the fact that there was a typhoon today, and it really wasn't safe to leave the house, but staying home and relaxing was also really good for me.) However, it was definitely refreshing to go on a trip. I remember thinking that tourism was boring when I was younger, but now I love reading signs and looking at statues and taking pictures. I feel like I'm learning something. Plus, the food was amazing.

Thanks for reading! I'm shooting for a blog post a week. Please feel free to say something if you notice I'm not posting-- I could use the external motivation!

Language Struggles + First Week of School

I was scrolling through tumblr earlier today, and I came across this excerpt from Kató Lomb’s Polyglot: How I Learn Languages:

Immediately, I thought, Yes. This is true. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that languages are the only thing worth knowing poorly, but knowing only a little bit of a language is definitely worthwhile. Language helps you convey information, figure out what’s going around you, and, as Lomb says, “build bridges between people.”

My Japanese is not bad. I studied it for three years in college, and I get by just fine. Sometimes I have to ask people to speak slower, and if a conversation gets too technical I might get a bit lost, but usually I do fine. And yet I feel disappointed in myself, like I should be better, because I studied Japanese for three whole years. I try to remind myself that Japanese is a really hard language for a native English speaker to learn, but it has definitely been an area of insecurity for me.

I’ve been told that part of the reason students—especially middle schoolers—can be shy in English class is because they’re afraid of making mistakes. That’s partly because, culturally, they are worried about messing up in front of their peers. But I think there’s also something to the argument that it is especially difficult to be faced with a native speaker of the language you are learning. They are so comfortable in their language that they are attuned to your every mistake.

I am constantly reminding myself that language is about communication. As long as I manage to get my point across, I have succeeded. I might have to make a roundabout explanation of a word I don’t know, look up half the kanji in something I’m reading, or pull out my phone dictionary partway through a conversation, but I manage to communicate. And there are plenty of conversations where I don’t have to look up anything at all.

The hardest part, I think, is that I can’t choose when I struggle. I might come across a conversation I don’t have the vocabulary for when I’m tired and stressed and just want to get home. And I’m saying this as someone who does speak Japanese. I've certainly gained a lot of respect for people who don’t have the chance to learn a language before moving to another country, and who really have to figure it out as they go.

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This week, I finally started going to schools. I went to two elementary schools, one combined elementary/middle school, and one preschool. (The preschoolers were adorable, but it was more of a one-time thing, and I was only there for about an hour.)

In a lot of ways, Japanese schools are just like schools in the United States. The classroom has a large blackboard and rows of desks, and the kids all seem eager for recess. So far as I can tell, lessons are structured in largely the same way. I could think up more similarities, but instead, I want to tell you about some of the differences I picked up on. For instance:

Everyone takes off their outside shoes and wears indoor school shoes. I have a pair of shoes that I’ve never worn outside specifically for teaching. Schools do have slippers for guests, but they’re not particularly comfortable.

At all three of the schools I visited this week, the classrooms felt very open. In addition to windows facing outside, there are windows into the hallway. In addition to allowing for greater air flow—the classrooms aren’t air conditioned-the classroom and hallway feel much more connected, whereas in American schools they are distinctly separate spaces. It’s possible that they close those windows in the winter, though. Here’s a picture I hijacked from the internet that shows what I’m talking about:

Image source

Even in middle school (and I think high school), students do not go from room to room for classes. Instead, it’s the teachers that move between rooms. All of the teachers have desks in the teacher room, called the shokuinshitsu (職員室), which is where I go in periods when I’m not teaching. Though I do think it’s a relaxing space, the shokuinshitsu is definitely different from the teacher’s lounge in American schools, because it’s a workspace instead of just a break room.

Instead of having janitors, the students clean their own school after lunch every day. I really think America needs to get on this. Looking back at my own education, I don’t think American kids are respectful enough of the space they occupy, because they know that someone else will come in and clean at the end of the day.

The biggest difference is definitely school lunch. Kids serve food to each other; I’ve heard that when they get older, students also make the food. They eat in their classrooms, instead of in a cafeteria. Desks are grouped based on the students’ assigned seat, so it isn’t as much of a social time as it is in the United States. (I assume that also means that Japanese students don’t have to go through that particular stressful experience that is picking a lunch table on your first day of school.)

Information about the food in the day’s lunch is broadcast on the speakers, along with school announcements. Music plays when no one is talking. After lunch, there is a designated time for brushing teeth.

I don’t eat the school lunches because they aren’t vegetarian, but they look good, and the students I've asked say they like them. Everyone eats the same thing, and I’m not sure that they’re allowed to bring their own lunch. I’ve been wondering what kids with allergies do; I’ll have to ask someone.

Here’s an article about lunches in Japan. There’s also a pretty good video! Some minor details vary from school to school, but most of it is fairly standard. https://www.citylab.com/life/2017/03/the-school-lunch-program-putting-all-others-to-shame/519792/

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As always, there's a lot more that I could talk about, but this is all the writing I’ve got in me for now. I’m sure I’ll notice more similarities and differences as the year goes on; I haven’t even been to half my schools yet.

Tomorrow I’m going to a tiny school on an island. My classes will have three to seven students, and I have to get up a bit early to drive somewhere and then get on a boat. I’m actually looking forward to it quite a bit, though I’ll feel better once I’ve made it to the boat in time.

Thanks for reading!