Flying horses couldn’t keep me away

The Sports Day scaffolding has been assembled in the arena. Praju reports students have locked off classrooms down a musty hall and filled them with the fledgling efforts of their massive billboard sized paintings. I see a few third year students wandering the halls like Lady MacBeth, their hands covered in red paint. Leaders have been selected. Classes have been re-scheduled. Starting next week we will have classes until lunchtime and then four hours of Sports Day practice in the afternoons. The Sensei (including me) are busy correcting mid-terms and marking essays, so these half day reprieves come at a good time in the term. We will do busy work inside and through our screened windows monitor the students flapping cards and dancing around in capes. All of us hope it will not rain.

I’ve been on sick leave for the last two weeks, in and out of school. Did you know all the massage therapists at The Massage Place wear white button-up coats that look like chef’s jackets? And solid white polyester pants? And the female receptionists wear baby pink aprons with their names written in hiragana so the little children know what to call them? It’s kind of cute in a cutesy way, and I now associate the color pink with all things medical. There is always pink somewhere in a doctor’s office over here. Pink slippers. Pink massage tables. Pink aprons. Is this meant to be soothing?

Also, there are only male massage therapists and only female receptionists. But hey, when I get a 10-minute foot bath followed by a 15-minute shoulder massage followed by 10 minutes with the octopus electric massage suckers all for 500 yen ($5) I wouldn’t care if it was administered in the 99-year-old woman’s smelly basement. I’ve been in and out of The Massage Place for the last ten days, and yesterday when they asked me how I was doing I was able to honestly say I’m “much better”.

I’ve been home the last three days resting up on the couch, reading, slowly (and I mean really slowly) packing our winter clothes boxes. I strategized. I developed a yoga routine. I figured out when I can go swimming and how often I need to do it. I finished two stories that have been in the back of my mind and eating up space in my sub-conscious. I have, in short, just come out of a spring hibernation. I washed dishes, lengthened my hamstrings and ate leftovers. I also got a little perspective, which makes me freak out a little less when I see on a neighbor’s email “status” the phrase: eight weeks left.

Eight weeks!

Eight weeks.

Back at school I’m eating my sandwich out of a bag that says I may put these things in it: carrots, broccoli, apples, sausage, candy, cheese. We’re getting tempermental plastic over here as summer approaches.

The three Board of Education professionals come in during lunchtime in black suits and power shirts and suddenly all 50 of us, chairs rolling back in our wake, are on our feet and the Principal gives introductions. They roam around all afternoon and then disappear. We did a stretch of “emergency” cleaning for them, if you’ll remember, but I don’t believe any comments were made on how spiffy our shelves were. Disappointing.

The student teachers are also here. There are about two of them to every Sensei and they’re all wearing the same black suit. During the morning meeting they troop into the room carrying their own red stools to sit on. They don’t appear to have any other purpose than just observing. I’m keeping a watchful eye on them.

I showed the second year students my brother’s high school graduation announcement and they gave him the highest praise: “Cool”. They were very disappointed to hear he had a girlfriend. He does have facial stubble in his senior picture, which is something the boys here won’t have to deal with for many more years. The Asian face just does not sprout hairs like a North American mountain man.

I filled one of Johnathan’s old socks with rice and heat it up in the microwave for my shoulders. Several of the Sensei have commented on how “cute” his sort-of-dirty old sock is. I think my parting gift to a few of them may be beautiful cloth bags of rice that will sit sweating in their metal desk drawers all through August and September and October. Until November when I expect a few thank-you notes and anecdotes about healed muscles. These chairs we sit in. They are very bad for the back.

Ms. Delicious is very glad to have me back at school and gave me an awkward side hug this morning. “You are feeling better,” she said. To which I said, “Yes, I am.” I did 30-minutes of yoga this morning, took a shower, made my own lunch and was 15 minutes early to school. “What does this mean, ‘be fired up?'” Kana asked me in debate class, holding out her dictionary. And so I taught them the cheer, Let’s get fired up! We are fired up! and I expect to see it used at Class Match while their classmates are thumping volleyballs over the net.

I’m feeling good and it’s great to be back in the saddle where I get to tell T-Rex Sensei, “The magazine won’t carry an item about his scandal,” is wrong, and I get to tell O Sensei that the phrases, “We will clean up the park this weekend” and “we’re going to clean up the part this weekend” are virtually identical, and where Kana answers everything with the phrase, “I am impatient”. How are you doing? I asked the class and Kana shouted back, I am impatient! Well, then, Kana, let’s get this party started.

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One down

Larin is home with some stomach flu/gastrointestinal nightmare. I hope he doesn’t have a parasite–or, worse, some kind of virus that I’m now harboring.

I think today, finally, I’ve gotten the whole byokyuu/nenkyuu fiasco worked out. It’s funny because Larin’s the one who is sick and absent, and I’m left dealing with the politics of it. Basically, yesterday when Larin felt ill and wanted to leave, our supervisor said he needed to take nenkyuu which is paid vacation time. Byokyuu is sick leave, and A Sensei said we can only take byokyuu if we’re going to be gone for a month or two, which I don’t really understand. It seems that would be for a terminal illness or cancer treatment, not the stomach flu.

Turns out, though, that is not the case. It is common in Japan for people (teachers, company workers, anyone who holds a full-time job) to never use sick leave. In fact, some teachers end up with extra nenkyuu days that just pile up year after year (at another ALT’s school one of the senior teachers was diagnosed with cancer and he had like six months worth of nenkyuu saved that he took to get chemo). The theory on why this is so is that after WW2 the Japanese felt this great need to rebuild, to be a part of a “good” team again, to pull together, and so this is a sign of that togetherness. They’re supposed to be willingly demonstrating their commitment to the team–to come in wearing surgical “protection” masks to keep from getting sick, and then take vacation days when they’re really sick. They, techincally, can take sick days to stay home sick (this is what they are for), but the foreigners are the only ones that really do. This is a sticky point about being a gaijin. On the one hand, I’m trying to fit in, to force my way into this “team spirit”, but on the other hand I get to sit out of things like CPR class and some assemblies (although I did get dragged to the hour-long assembly on: Why not to do drugs. Here’s all I need to know: as a foreigner it’s illegal to be caught with even marijuana and I’ll be deported. Permanently.). So it’s a tough call. But if I start demonstrating my solidarity by giving up my nenkyuu then I’d really need to complete the package by staying at school until 9 at night and coming in on Saturdays. That, my friends, is not going to happen.

Larin, not really being in a position to argue, decided to go to the doctor just in case, and left school. Later, when it became apparent he wouldn’t be able to come back the next day (today) he called me and said he didn’t want to take another day of nenkyuu (we get 20 a year). I know the rules, and our contract, but I emailed our prefectural assistant, David, anyway, so I had the higher-ups on board. David said that yes, I was right, if Larin has a doctor’s note then he should be able to take byokyuu (as in, not cut into his vacation time). So I passed the news along to A Sensei in a “maybe this is right…” “could you look into it…” “is it possible…” sort of way. He said he needed to check with the Kyoutou Sensei (vice-principal).

Then, this morning he said Larin can take nenkyuu today. You mean byokyuu? I asked. Ah yes, he said, he can change it to byokyuu when he gets back to school. Phew. All that for a few extra days off. But, everyday counts when it takes almost 24 hours to get back to Montana.

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