And you and I
Sunday, January 29, 2006
A Year (and a half) in review
Dear Blog faithful,
As I have more or less passed unscathed through the first half of my contract (assuming I don't end up finding a reason to extend), I decided now was a pretty good time to give you a brief rundown. Also, most of this stuff was already written anyway in that church letter and annual report I told you about.
First, for anyone who has made the unfortunate mistake of stumbling upon this site, a brief bio: My name is Nicholas Mason. I have brown eyes, brown hair, am 6 feet tall with a firm chin, and winning smile. I’ve grown up all across the South East, but my family has settled for the time being in Orange Park, Florida. I attended Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, NC, where I received a B.A. in Music and enjoyed jaw-dropping levels of popularity. I knew I would have to attend graduate school, a music degree being not too terribly marketable, but I thought it might be time for a break from schooling and decided to go into banking. A few rejections later, I was onboard Northwest flight 7635 (I just made that up; I have no idea what my flight number was) bound for Tokyo.
Now, for anyone who wasn't able to hear my sob-stories from Tokyo: I remember it like it was over a year and a half ago, which is to say that I don’t remember it well at all. My first memories of Japan are clouded in exhaustion—due in equal parts to jetlag and my encountering of a foreign culture—but I believe overwhelmed is the best way to describe my initial experiences. The opening of Lost in Translation (the part right after the bit of Scarlet Johansson nudity) pretty well sums up my first night here: I was spent, and the bright lights, the number of people, and my complete linguistic inadequacy brought me to the brink of collapse.
My first week or so conducted itself much the same as my first night, and thus my memories thereof are a muddled collage of cute little Japanese Rail (JR) jingles, sometimes impressive, sometimes tawdry electronic displays, and the general befuddlement that comes with being not quite au fait.
Note, the above paragraph can be found, more or less unchanged, in my first or second blog post, I forget which. Look it up, I'm not going to link it for you.
All together, I spent six months in Tokyo studying Japanese, and, if I can be frank, it was pretty awful. My time there was marked with hours of downtime, hours of floundering, hours of commuting, and a few minutes of study. I had only 3 hours of class a day, which, as you can imagine, gave rise to many of those soul-searching “why am I here” sorts of questions. However, Tokyo did provide me with ample time for reading and pouring over a thesaurus for words like “au fait”.
Kumamoto: A few months before language school “graduation” I found out that I would be placed in—thank the Lord—Kumamoto, on the island of Kyushu. I say, “thank the Lord” because my only other option would have been placement in Tokyo, and frankly, I’d had enough of Tokyo. And lot's of things changed: I cut my girly hair, took care of that nasty facial growth, threw away the flower-print shirt, donated my collection of designer man-purses to the local orphanage (orphans got a right to pizazz too), and I also lost a little weight.
The nice thing about working is that it creates a bit of a snowball effect: after that catalyst (employment) is reached, one feels more inclined toward self-improvement, shouldering new responsibilities, and tackling new assignments. Once I adjusted to the rigors of the new work environment, I decided that I needed an activity, a goal to shoot for and to occupy my free time. So I chose two—a full marathon and the 3rd level Japanese proficiency exam (the Sankyu) — and did both in a sort-of slipshod fashion.
I’m attending 大江教会 (pronounced “Oe Kyokai”) out here, which means “Big River Church”. I don’t know why they call it “Big River Church” because, so far as I can tell, there are no big rivers close by. The atmosphere is warm even if the temperature is not, and the people are friendly and caring, if a little demanding. I generally show up a few minutes late, but they don’t say anything because I move all their heavy equipment and furniture for them. They can’t seem to decide where they want their piano, which floats between the sanctuary and fellowship hall, depending on the phase of the moon and the planets currently in retrograde. It’s a good thing I have another J-3 (our unofficial title out here, so called because we are part of a 3 year program in Japan) there to help me because the average member’s age is about 104.
And that rigorous work environment I wrote about above is found at my school, Luther Gakuin, “The Happiest Place on Earth”. True story: Martha Akard (our school’s founder) once lost in a high-stakes game of Texas Hold ‘Em to Walt Disney and had to give up the epithet. True story.
The reason I still use it is because of a few key members of the staff. One, who for privacy’s sake we’ll call Yoshiko, is always kind enough to correct our culture faux pas and slam shut the international office’s door so as not to let any of our air-conditioning or heating into the hallway. Another, whom I affectionately call “The Bane of my Existence”, is not terribly fond of his job as music director, so he graciously passes it on to me. But in all seriousness, it’s the students who make my time here worth it. Why just the other day I had one teach me a few obscene phrases in Japanese, telling me they were commonly used and a great way to keep rowdy students in line. For practice, I had the students start talking really loudly, and then I yelled some of these choice expletive phrases. The windows were open, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be asked to extend my contract.
But, by and large, I am enjoying my time here; the amount of times I’ve had my chest grabbed (very disturbing the first time it happens to you) and the number of marriage proposals is always flattering. And, I find the Japanese people to be generally polite and inviting. Ah, but, the heart of the matter: Why am I here? Good question. How will this help me prepare for my future? I've no idea. I've struggled with both of these questions and more over the past year and a half, and the general conclusion I come to is that my future and my circumstances are direct results of my decision-making, for good or for ill. The future is entirely unknown to us, and all we can be expected to do is make the best choices possible given the information available. And information is expensive. I could have chosen to do any number of things out of college, but I don't think I would trade this experience for the world.
Somewhat sincerely,
Nicholas Mason
As I have more or less passed unscathed through the first half of my contract (assuming I don't end up finding a reason to extend), I decided now was a pretty good time to give you a brief rundown. Also, most of this stuff was already written anyway in that church letter and annual report I told you about.
First, for anyone who has made the unfortunate mistake of stumbling upon this site, a brief bio: My name is Nicholas Mason. I have brown eyes, brown hair, am 6 feet tall with a firm chin, and winning smile. I’ve grown up all across the South East, but my family has settled for the time being in Orange Park, Florida. I attended Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, NC, where I received a B.A. in Music and enjoyed jaw-dropping levels of popularity. I knew I would have to attend graduate school, a music degree being not too terribly marketable, but I thought it might be time for a break from schooling and decided to go into banking. A few rejections later, I was onboard Northwest flight 7635 (I just made that up; I have no idea what my flight number was) bound for Tokyo.
Now, for anyone who wasn't able to hear my sob-stories from Tokyo: I remember it like it was over a year and a half ago, which is to say that I don’t remember it well at all. My first memories of Japan are clouded in exhaustion—due in equal parts to jetlag and my encountering of a foreign culture—but I believe overwhelmed is the best way to describe my initial experiences. The opening of Lost in Translation (the part right after the bit of Scarlet Johansson nudity) pretty well sums up my first night here: I was spent, and the bright lights, the number of people, and my complete linguistic inadequacy brought me to the brink of collapse.
My first week or so conducted itself much the same as my first night, and thus my memories thereof are a muddled collage of cute little Japanese Rail (JR) jingles, sometimes impressive, sometimes tawdry electronic displays, and the general befuddlement that comes with being not quite au fait.
Note, the above paragraph can be found, more or less unchanged, in my first or second blog post, I forget which. Look it up, I'm not going to link it for you.
All together, I spent six months in Tokyo studying Japanese, and, if I can be frank, it was pretty awful. My time there was marked with hours of downtime, hours of floundering, hours of commuting, and a few minutes of study. I had only 3 hours of class a day, which, as you can imagine, gave rise to many of those soul-searching “why am I here” sorts of questions. However, Tokyo did provide me with ample time for reading and pouring over a thesaurus for words like “au fait”.
Kumamoto: A few months before language school “graduation” I found out that I would be placed in—thank the Lord—Kumamoto, on the island of Kyushu. I say, “thank the Lord” because my only other option would have been placement in Tokyo, and frankly, I’d had enough of Tokyo. And lot's of things changed: I cut my girly hair, took care of that nasty facial growth, threw away the flower-print shirt, donated my collection of designer man-purses to the local orphanage (orphans got a right to pizazz too), and I also lost a little weight.
The nice thing about working is that it creates a bit of a snowball effect: after that catalyst (employment) is reached, one feels more inclined toward self-improvement, shouldering new responsibilities, and tackling new assignments. Once I adjusted to the rigors of the new work environment, I decided that I needed an activity, a goal to shoot for and to occupy my free time. So I chose two—a full marathon and the 3rd level Japanese proficiency exam (the Sankyu) — and did both in a sort-of slipshod fashion.
I’m attending 大江教会 (pronounced “Oe Kyokai”) out here, which means “Big River Church”. I don’t know why they call it “Big River Church” because, so far as I can tell, there are no big rivers close by. The atmosphere is warm even if the temperature is not, and the people are friendly and caring, if a little demanding. I generally show up a few minutes late, but they don’t say anything because I move all their heavy equipment and furniture for them. They can’t seem to decide where they want their piano, which floats between the sanctuary and fellowship hall, depending on the phase of the moon and the planets currently in retrograde. It’s a good thing I have another J-3 (our unofficial title out here, so called because we are part of a 3 year program in Japan) there to help me because the average member’s age is about 104.
And that rigorous work environment I wrote about above is found at my school, Luther Gakuin, “The Happiest Place on Earth”. True story: Martha Akard (our school’s founder) once lost in a high-stakes game of Texas Hold ‘Em to Walt Disney and had to give up the epithet. True story.
The reason I still use it is because of a few key members of the staff. One, who for privacy’s sake we’ll call Yoshiko, is always kind enough to correct our culture faux pas and slam shut the international office’s door so as not to let any of our air-conditioning or heating into the hallway. Another, whom I affectionately call “The Bane of my Existence”, is not terribly fond of his job as music director, so he graciously passes it on to me. But in all seriousness, it’s the students who make my time here worth it. Why just the other day I had one teach me a few obscene phrases in Japanese, telling me they were commonly used and a great way to keep rowdy students in line. For practice, I had the students start talking really loudly, and then I yelled some of these choice expletive phrases. The windows were open, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be asked to extend my contract.
But, by and large, I am enjoying my time here; the amount of times I’ve had my chest grabbed (very disturbing the first time it happens to you) and the number of marriage proposals is always flattering. And, I find the Japanese people to be generally polite and inviting. Ah, but, the heart of the matter: Why am I here? Good question. How will this help me prepare for my future? I've no idea. I've struggled with both of these questions and more over the past year and a half, and the general conclusion I come to is that my future and my circumstances are direct results of my decision-making, for good or for ill. The future is entirely unknown to us, and all we can be expected to do is make the best choices possible given the information available. And information is expensive. I could have chosen to do any number of things out of college, but I don't think I would trade this experience for the world.
Somewhat sincerely,
Nicholas Mason
Friday, January 20, 2006
Happy Anniversary!!
It's been 1 month since my last post!
Look, I know it's been awhile. I was away on vacation. And frankly, I've just had a lot on my mind recently--wonderful things mind you, but things I don't feel entirely comfortable discussing in an open forum, as I believe she frequents this blog (God knows why). I'll give you an update sometime pretty soon if there ends up being an 'us'. Ha, that looked like 'anus'.
Moreover, I've had to write a letter to both a church back home--which gives money to an organization that pays my insurance costs and the costs of a largely useless orientation program I attended summer before last--and the head church here in Japan, blowing sunshine up both their asses, sunshine which details how God's work is being done over here or something. I don't know, I don't speak Christianese.
I don't mean to convey the feeling that I'm unhappy and have difficulty speaking highly of my time here, I'm just pretty sure that the letters will either fall short their expectations or sound extremely phoney. It's this agenda that keeps me from blogging regularly, although the formermost much more so than the last two.
Look, I'm not going to make any promises here or anything. In the past I've always said something along the lines of "I will rededicate myself to my former blogging excellence" or something, but I don't feel comfortable making such guarantees. Perhaps it's a start, a launching pad. Perhaps. That much I will say.
Oh, and I manipulated the date. It's not actually my anniversary.
Look, I know it's been awhile. I was away on vacation. And frankly, I've just had a lot on my mind recently--wonderful things mind you, but things I don't feel entirely comfortable discussing in an open forum, as I believe she frequents this blog (God knows why). I'll give you an update sometime pretty soon if there ends up being an 'us'. Ha, that looked like 'anus'.
Moreover, I've had to write a letter to both a church back home--which gives money to an organization that pays my insurance costs and the costs of a largely useless orientation program I attended summer before last--and the head church here in Japan, blowing sunshine up both their asses, sunshine which details how God's work is being done over here or something. I don't know, I don't speak Christianese.
I don't mean to convey the feeling that I'm unhappy and have difficulty speaking highly of my time here, I'm just pretty sure that the letters will either fall short their expectations or sound extremely phoney. It's this agenda that keeps me from blogging regularly, although the formermost much more so than the last two.
Look, I'm not going to make any promises here or anything. In the past I've always said something along the lines of "I will rededicate myself to my former blogging excellence" or something, but I don't feel comfortable making such guarantees. Perhaps it's a start, a launching pad. Perhaps. That much I will say.
Oh, and I manipulated the date. It's not actually my anniversary.
