Scribbler's Cafe

Finding my groove

I am starting to find my place in this country. Our days have rhythm again - a predictability which brings comfort. Newness and challenge still punctuate most things we try, but there are also moments in the day where we know what to expect or that we maintain some semblance of control.

I understand the vibe at work. I now have a sense of which teachers will smile and offer me a hello, and which will bow their heads and pretend they don’t see me. I know what to do with myself and how fast (or slow) I must pace myself to get through the day. Of course, I still haven’t taught my first classes yet. I’m sure that will change my day considerably. I have relatively little anxiety or concern about the classes. I trust myself and my abilities. My natural ease with speaking and guiding will come to my aid in this position. I look forward to interacting with the students. The idea that I may have an impact on how their minds form gives me great pleasure.

Matt is teaching a class of returnees twice a week. Returnees are kids that have lived in the US for at least two years and therefore have a higher level of English ability than their peers. Today was Matt’s first class. He also had to introduce himself in front of the entire student body during Chapel. I tried to record the big moment, but I had Kiomye hanging off my arm and I caught more video of the floor than of Matt speaking. He presented himself well. He said later that his class went fairly smoothly; although it may sometimes be a struggle for him to fill the entire period. I think that when he finally has activities and lessons for the kids that he will wish he had more time.

The weather has calmed. The typhoons have passed and the temperature has dropped a few merciful degrees. The last typhoon was more mild than the first. The winds came, but there was little rain. Dan spent the evening at our apartment and we all played a Japanese video game where we race trains around Japan buying up property and trying to avoid the devil. Our game quit suddenly when a surge of power plunged us momentarily into darkness. We took a break to step outside and feel the wind. It was night. The lights of Nishinomiya still shone brightly. We went in and out as the storm stroked our excitement. Matt and Dan had gone back inside when I stepped out to feel the wind again. I heard a huge *pop* and saw a bright burst of white light frighteningly close to my perch on the balcony. I screamed and ducked back inside. The transformed, just thirty feet away and level with our balcony, had exploded. Mat and Dan came to the windows to see. Yellow sparks sizzled on the top of the metal pole for a few minutes, then faded. Our lights stayed on. No emergency vehicles rushed to the scene. It was easy to think I’d imagined it.

We had two more earthquakes last night. I didn’t feel these; I was fast asleep. I heard about them this morning from another teacher. That makes five earthquakes since we first arrived. I wonder when I’ll stop keeping count.

From where I moved my desk by the windows, I can see each time the bullet train passes by. At night it is simply a steady rumble and a chain of square lights. It is such a joy to see that I almost always want to make a note of it in my writings. The sight thrills me. Each time I see the train, it reminds me that I am far far away from my place of origin.

posted by Scribbler @ Thursday, September 09, 2004