Japanese Zoos and Aquariums

“Sultan is alone in his pen. He is hungry: the food that used

to arrive regularly has unaccountably ceased coming.

“The man who used to feed him and has now stopped feeding

him stretches a wire over the pen three metres above ground level,

and hangs a bunch of bananas from it. Into the pen he drags three

wooden crates. Then he disappears, closing the gate behind him,

though he is still somewhere in the vicinity, since one can smell him.

“Sultan knows: Now one is supposed to think. That is what

the bananas up there are about. The bananas are there to make one

think, to spur one to the limits of one’s thinking. But what must

one think? One thinks: Why is he starving me? One thinks: What

have I done? Why has he stopped liking me? One thinks: Why

 

does he not want these crates anymore? But none of these is the

right thought. Even a more complicated thought — for instance:

What is wrong with him, what misconception does he have of me,

that leads him to believe it is easier to reach a banana hanging

from a wire than to pick up a banana from the floor? — is wrong.

The right thought to think is: How does one use the crates to reach

the bananas ?

“Sultan drags the crates under the bananas, piles them one on

top of the other, climbs the tower he has built, and pulls down the

 

bananas. He thinks: Now will he stop punishing me?

- Extract from J. M. COETZEE The Lives of Animals (The Tanner Lectures on Human Values)

 

 

The life of an English Teacher in Japan as told by Ellen Baker, of New Horizons English texbook.

When Ellen first moved to Japan, she was READY. Ready to waltz into a new job, and be the best Assistant Language Teacher EVER! 

And in the beginning, it was great. She moved into a fantastic Leopalace, rented by her employer. It was so clean and all hers. Yeah it was a little small, and the air con unit did nothing to combat the hot, Japanese summer, but all was gravy. 

Ellen's first day at her new school was amazing too. She gave a great self introduction, and totally had her class eating out of the palm of her hand. 

 But even better than work, was the great social life that went with it. A few colleagues and Ellen discovered Nomihodai (all you can drink) and the fun never stopped.

Quickly, Ellen learned that her teaching job was a bit of an uphill struggle. Motivating the kids in her countryside school was difficult, and she mainly just smiled and said "Let's speak English" in a peppy fashion. Still, everyone loved the novelty Gaijin, and it wasn't all that bad.

In fact, the speech contest student Ellen was tutoring invited her over for dinner with his family. Ellen found this a totally awkward time, as she didn't speak any Japanese, and couldn't refuse the raw sea urchin that was passed to her on a plate. She dreamed of Kara-age and Nomi hodai. 

NOMI HODAI! 

School was just getting worse for Ellen, as pubescent boys started asking her to define words like 'boobs'　and 'sex' that they found in their dictionaries. There wasn't an easy way to combat this, so all Ellen did was push through  the day, knowing that at the end of this term was golden week, and she could leave all of these trying students behind. 

A FANTASTIC golden week spent in Thailand really refreshed Ellen. In fact, it made her start to question what had motivated her to teach English in  Japan in the first place. The long working hours meant her leopalace apartment hadn't been clean for about a month, her lesson plans had become sterile, and the lack of English proficiency in her classes had begun to make her despair. At least there was still 

NOMI HODAI

Back at work, Ellen painstakingly tried to improve the accents of her students, but her heart wasn't really in it. Her dreams were of Thailand, the USA and Nomi hodai. As Friday approached, and she received a LINE message about the latest AJET night out, things started looking up. But when Ellen looked in her bank account, she realised a night in with tins of cheap, tasteless, rich malt was all she could afford.

Ellen's weekend was spent in treacherous self loathing and pity. She was recognised by the convenience store staff, and could feel their judging eyes upon her as she approached the liquor fridge. Monday morning, she was hungover as hell, but still managed to stumble into her Junior High. 

There, on the desk, was an updated textbook. Ellen flicked through the pages. She sighed, as she noted the grammatical mistakes, and uninspiring exercises. Then she did a double take. That character, that ALT, she looked just like her. Wait, it was her! Ellen was in the very textbook that she was reading. What was going on? Ellen stuffed the textbook in her bag and ran home, unsure of what to do next. Cowering in her purpose built apartment, Ellen questioned life as she had known it. Everything she was about, all of her hopes and dreams, reduced to a two dimensional trope of a foreigner in an English textbook. 

Huddled on the floor, and sobbing quietly, Ellen wondered how this could have happened. All she had wanted to do was to visit Japan and teach English. The magnitude of being immortalised forever in a national textbook brought a new kind of pain, the kind of pain which even Nomi Hodai couldn't solace.

Ki wo tsukete, Ellen Baker.

Parents day in Japan

Is not like in England.
Parents dont just pop into school for half an hour after work, to recieve a 'yeah, they're doing fine but they need to work harder/listen more/do their homework/etc'.
Parents day is A WHOLE FRIKIN DAY.
Schools just open their doors up, and parents trundle in and out, stressing out the teachers and leaving their wailing kids behind when they realise they've had enough.

Although maybe its more stressful for the parents (lol). They've had to take time off work, in a country where every minute not in the office is basically purgatory. Furthermore, they have to spend that time with their children... at school. Why bother sending them there if you want to see them? The whole point of an expensive international kindergarten is to hide your children, between 8am and 5pm, whilst nurturing in them a bi-cultural dysmorphia.
But Japanese schools forget the wishes of the parents, and invite them for a day to re-learn their abc's. 
The look of bemused false-enjoment on the parents faces during a game of fruit basket will stay with me. Mummys who lunch, my heart goes out to you, it really does.

But spare a moment for the staff. Parents day is obviously going to run a little differently. Maybe lunchtime will be later. Maybe rooms will change. Maybe you will invent a whole new lesson to prevent anarchy from 5yearolds who cannot contain their excitement that mummy and daddy are here. And maybe this whole new lesson will be something amazing and interactive, with a TON of prep, meaning everyone has to stay late the night before to get eerything 100% ready. (Not that my school was too bad with this, but ive heard tales of a classroom being turned into a fairground/underwater paradise/importing live dragons from New Zeland).
But im just guessing that it could be stressfull.
Plus, an entire day of scrutiny isn't in any way relaxing.

To top off any language teachers stress levels, youre probably not a trained teacher, and are waiting the whole day for someone to yell FAKE!!!

Taking this whole ordeal to a new level of pain is the fact that the only ice cream left in my freezer is strawberry flavour, when i want cookies and cream flavour.
Plus, the parents are coming back again tomorrow. For a very messy arts and crafts.......

Positive correlation

Anyone worried about my financial situation, I have designed this graph to explain my current outgoings.