For the teachers there were even more differences, yet I had to find ways to work with each one. Some of the teachers wanted to ignore me and find reasons they could not take me to class with them. Most of those reasons were valid, due to testing or demands that meant they not take time out for distractions of actually using a lot of oral English in the classroom. Many teachers were not comfortable speaking my language in the classroom, because the students might notice they did not speak as naturally if compared to me.
But many of the teachers realized that was exactly the reason I was there, to utilize my easily flowing word structure with so little accent, speaking slowly and in easy, beginners' vocabulary so that when the students understood, they gained confidence. Once they heard something they could understand, it was a game changer. These teachers found ways to have me make tapes to use when I was not there, to work on a specific lesson plan, to have students ask their own questions. But in the end, this was up to the individual teacher.
One teacher had heavy demands placed on him and he was very thorough, serious and, pretty much ignored me though we sat side by side in the teacher's room. He pored over his books and papers and did not speak to me.
On the other side sat a teacher who looked forward to my days there, shared his novels in English for me to read, and always looked for things to chat about, improving his English and his understanding of my background, where I lived and what I might eat for holiday or a normal meal during the day. He would tell me stories about his childhood or his family. One day at lunch time he pulled out his Obento, a boxed lunch his wife had made for him. He proudly explained his wife got up at 5:30 to make his lunch and lunches for their children as well.
Through one of the books he had given me to read, I learned they strove to include foods from both yama and umi, the mountain and the sea. This meant vegetables and meat from the land, and seafood and seaweed from the sea. The teacher's Obento was a masterpiece. A shrimp, half a hard boiled egg, a couple of pieces of fried chicken or pork, some green seaweed with sesame seed sprinkled on it, a couple of pieces of pickled daikon radish, a piece of mushroom, a slice of pear, a rice ball wrapped in nori, seaweed, and, finally, some slices of apple cut to look like a rabbit. It was a piece of art, no doubt, and I gave it the admiration it deserved. Then with a bit of relish, because at this point I knew this kind man had a great sense of humor after talking with him for weeks and sitting next to him, I did my show and tell with my lunch. "See, this is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a container with some chips and a banana. And it took me two minutes to make it and throw it in the bag." The lessons in culture were non-stop, and we never had to look very far.
Our teacher's room had some kerosene heaters, no central heat. The rooms were unheated for the students. Nice most of the year, but not nice in winter when it could get cold. This area grew oranges, so it was Florida like, but we know that Florida can get cold. Anyway, often throughout the winter, one of the teachers who had a large garden would bring in freshly dug potatoes and boil them on the top of the heater, then share them with everyone. They were wonderful freshly boiled and salted, and, perhaps, for me a taste of home. Quite a treat because they were also hot. If it was cold enough to cook the potatoes, it was cold enough for me to run to put hot green tea in my ceramic cup and hold it, not so much to drink, but to warm my hands. Green tea, hot water and tea pots were available in every office and teacher's room for all of us to help ourselves.
I really liked the teachers in this office at Kaseda High School. I also worked with two young teachers, a man and a woman. The woman had excellent English, headed up the English Club and was thinking about eventually getting married. She was kind and humorous, and loved to laugh at American style humor.
The young man often took me out to lunch with him on Thursdays, when he had a free period. We almost always went to his favorite place where he would order the daily special. It was a great little hole in the wall with good food and a balanced meal set called teishoku in Japanese. It contained miso soup, rice, veggie and meat or fish with coffee or tea. Here we would talk pretty freely. He was very tough in his classroom, but very good looking, and he relaxed when he left school. Both of these teachers sat across from me. We could all hear what any of the others said.
One more teacher had retired but was filling in for someone, or because there was a shortage of English teachers. He was over 60 and in great shape, running 5Ks and hiking up mountains. This was my favorite group of teachers, and I got to know them the best because it was my base school where I spent most of my working days.
But to get back to the teacher who didn't speak to me. Eventually, I wore him down. I always included him in conversations, even if he looked busy. I asked him short questions. He responded, just barely. He did not take me into his classrooms. He was one tough nut. But finally he did start talking a little, ever so slowly opening up about why he hadn't been talking. He said he thought it was a waste of time, because the teacher before had not been happy. She sat and read books the whole time she was there. Soon, I found his English to be excellent and natural. He'd lived in Britain for a year and studied there. It all came together, and, soon he even laughed on occasion, and asked me questions about life in the States.
Occasionally, we joked or teased. One time just before his class was starting, after we had talked for a good 30 minutes, he asked me if I had heard of Yamato Nadeshiko. He said this was the old term for the PERFECT Japanese woman. Yamato is an old word for Japan and nadeshiko is a carnation. He told me the perfect Japanese woman would be thin, agile, able to bend gracefully as the carnation would bend in the wind. But like the carnation, she was strong, and while able to sway so gracefully, would not break.
I was enjoying the story and the conversation, when the bell rang for class. The teacher hurried to take his books and when he got around the aisle, standing behind the young teachers, he threw a question back at me, so they could all hear. "Minch Sensei, do you know why you cannot be Yamato nadeshiko?" "Because you talk too much!" Well, I was the first to start laughing out loud, and then was joined by all the other English teachers. Then all the other teachers in the room, a good 35 or so, wanted to know what had happened. There was a brief explanation in Japanese, and soon there was a new round of laughter.
In the workplace, when you are with friends, sharing laughter is so important. I felt like a real member of the group when all could laugh at the joke, and I knew it was all in good fun, as well as true. I could not be Yamato nadeshiko, but I remember this story fondly and still admire the image of a carnation swaying in the wind.
