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At the moment I find myself sitting here eating steak and eggs with a side of grits and spiced up corn while watching Simpsons episodes on DVD, so already you can see it is a tremendous change from what I was used to in “the states” (for some reason this is what every foreigner refers to the U.S. of A. as when they are abroad). Every morning I wake up to find that Jetlag is not just a symptom of traveling but is instead a way of life. I rise from my futon, which is nestled (to be read as thrown) on the floor made out of straw known as tatami. Now many of you are thinking that the futons you had in college were pretty nice and that doesn’t sound so bad, and the truth of the matter is that it isn’t too bad. You quickly find out that your spine adapts to sleeping on a straw floor and having your back resemble a roller coaster has its advantages, especially with the ladies who probably won’t admit it, but love a man with scoliosis. I get up to hit the shower but instead hit my head on the doorframe which was apparently built during the famous “Munchkinland” architecture craze that swept the world shortly after “The Wizard of Oz” came out. As I rinse the blood from my forehead, I fix myself a Japanese breakfast. Now here is where it gets difficult to explain, a Japanese breakfast is like no other breakfast in the world. There really is only one way to picture it,...it’s the same as dinner, but in the morning. Now I know you are reading this and thinking that the world must have stopped spinning and how could you have dinner for breakfast? I mean we all love breakfast for dinner on occasion and even breakfast for lunch which we cleverly call “brunch,” and at Williams College they even went so far as to have brunch for dinner which is getting close to crossing the line, but to have dinner for breakfast is just plain insanity! It actually makes perfect sense since it is the most important meal of the day, which explains why until now I have been so unproductive. In every job interview henceforth I will chalk up my poor grades to the lack of having soup, rice, seaweed, cooked fish, and hot tea for breakfast (did I just use ‘henceforth’ in a sentence? It must be the breakfast, um, I mean dinner talking). I am sure they will understand. I also have a hard time believing that Japanese singles fresh in the working-world wake up every morning and make all this before they go to work. Of course they don’t, that is why they live with their parents until they are thirty. Now that’s nothing but smart thinking. No rent and free meals. What do they think this is, a Holiday Inn? HaaHaaHaa. But I digest, I mean digress. After bucking the system by eating toast and drinking orange juice for breakfast, I head to my car for the journey to work. My car is affectionately named “Big Toe” because that is the object it most resembles and that is the approximate size of the vehicle. If it weren’t for the straw floor to bend my spine, I wouldn’t manage to fit into it. As the Big Toe chugs along at 40-60 Kilometers/hour which, according to my calculations is equal to approximately 3.2 miles per hour, I crane my head out of the window to see where I am going in true Ace Ventura style because it simply won’t fit inside the car. |
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I arrive at school and upon exiting my car, an acrobatic feat not to be underestimated, I check to see that I have everything I need to make it through the day. Briefcase, check, Wallet, check, Pants, check, Jogging Suit, check, Towel, check, 5 Pairs of Shoes, check. Looks good, so I am off to start the day. Now maybe you are wondering what’s up with all this stuff? To be honest, so am I. Let me start with the Pants, for some crazy reason every teacher is required to wear pants. I have heard it has something to do about the kilt not catching on. However, as you probably now know, they are not a requirement for karaoke. Next the jogging suit, apparently when every teacher acquires their teaching license they are given a jogging suit along with it. Just to stop your crazy thoughts now, I have yet to see any jogging done in these. This suit is so that teachers can change from casual to semi-formal throughout the day, more specifically in the ten minutes between classes. They are required by national law to change in and out of these suits at least 4 times a day. And really, who can say you wouldn’t want to change from a jacket and tie into a jogging suit four times in between teaching Junior High Students. Honestly, two days ago I felt like the odd man out because I didn’t have one on. Now that’s what I call assimilation! On to the Towel, this is so that when you go to the toilet you can have something to dry your hands with. Japan has found the answer to the age-old debate over whether paper towels or blow dryers are more sanitary to dry your hands with. They don’t use either. Instead everyone must carry a towel or do what I did for the first four months, which is wipe my hands on my pants, which in the cleanliness rankings comes just before wiping your hands dry with a dead rat. Now, to give credit where it is due they have soap at every sink, just no towels. Williams College, continuing there “we do everything the opposite from Japan policy” decided to have paper towels but no soap, thereby avoiding the aforementioned debate by not even attempting to be sanitary since without soap you are simply spreading your filth onto the hand towel before throwing it away. However, after contacting Williams PR department before writing this they defended their “no soap policy” by claiming that “tuition, which increases faster than the national debt, couldn’t cover even the cost of basic operations and it would take a massive increase in Alumni contributions to acquire soap since it is last in a long list of needed improvements such as the repainting of Jesup Hall a brighter shade of pink, and a new parking deck cleverly hidden on Baxter Lawn.” THE STORY CONTINUES... |
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