An Extraordinary Day
Each year, us foreign English teachers have to write a short essay for the prefectural board of education (a prefecture is like a state). We are asked the same every time, write about "the Japanese experience." While no one is short of matieral, it is difficult to fit something worthwhile (and appropriate) in just a few paragraphs.
None of us look forward to writing it, especially when we know our essays are to be translated into Japanese. So, our work ends up being very similar each year. Some talk about how they have adjusted to living in Japan, and some have suggestions for the program. Most essays however are about how great their students are, or how great their town is, or how great that trip they went on was, or... well, something along those lines. Others make no sense at all.
I definately felt mine made no sense last year. I wanted to write something meaningful. I wanted to tell everyone that cultural understanding is a slow undertaking, and we have to remember to be patient. But it was so boring, I fell asleep every time I tried to write it. My supervisor didn't know how to translate it. It was such a mess, when the printed version came back, I couldn't even figure out what I was saying.
I enjoyed reading everyone's essays, but in the end, I felt our endeavors were pointless. I realized the only people who read our work are the same people we talk to day in and day out... and they already know how we feel. Cynical, I know.
This year, I decided to attack the essay from a new angle. A simple angle. An angle that had no translation problems. So sit back, grab a cup of green tea and enjoy this year's experience essay.
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An Extraordinary Day
I would like to share with you an event that occurred during my stay in Japan. As we are lucky to live next to such a fascinating place, one Saturday I decided to take a stroll in Kyoto. It was an unusually fine weekend, the weather was warm for early spring and the sakura was not yet in bloom. It was just a few weeks before the crowds descended on the city for hanami.
My stroll was not planned. My predecessor left me a well used but handy Kyoto guidebook, which I browsed on the quiet train ride south. Arriving at Kyoto station early, I chose a direction, one that took me through the city’s center and up east toward Higashiyama.
I saw some of the most interesting things. Through downtown were shopkeepers sweeping the streets preparing for customers, students in uniform heading to Saturday club activities, and old married couples well dressed for their sightseeing destinations. I saw a city waking and beginning its day.
Heading farther east, morning turned to noon, and what a day it became. Monks were practicing their daily chants; I could hear a deep bell being rung from far away. An artists’ class set themselves up in the grass and were studying a springtime shrine. Two ladies walked by in kimono holding umbrellas to protect them from the sun. Foreign tourists were out with cameras photographing everything they saw.
By late afternoon, I began my trip home. I looked back and recollected the day and thought how remarkable it was. As the sun was setting, I took a nap on the train.
None of us look forward to writing it, especially when we know our essays are to be translated into Japanese. So, our work ends up being very similar each year. Some talk about how they have adjusted to living in Japan, and some have suggestions for the program. Most essays however are about how great their students are, or how great their town is, or how great that trip they went on was, or... well, something along those lines. Others make no sense at all.
I definately felt mine made no sense last year. I wanted to write something meaningful. I wanted to tell everyone that cultural understanding is a slow undertaking, and we have to remember to be patient. But it was so boring, I fell asleep every time I tried to write it. My supervisor didn't know how to translate it. It was such a mess, when the printed version came back, I couldn't even figure out what I was saying.
I enjoyed reading everyone's essays, but in the end, I felt our endeavors were pointless. I realized the only people who read our work are the same people we talk to day in and day out... and they already know how we feel. Cynical, I know.
This year, I decided to attack the essay from a new angle. A simple angle. An angle that had no translation problems. So sit back, grab a cup of green tea and enjoy this year's experience essay.
----------
An Extraordinary Day
I would like to share with you an event that occurred during my stay in Japan. As we are lucky to live next to such a fascinating place, one Saturday I decided to take a stroll in Kyoto. It was an unusually fine weekend, the weather was warm for early spring and the sakura was not yet in bloom. It was just a few weeks before the crowds descended on the city for hanami.
My stroll was not planned. My predecessor left me a well used but handy Kyoto guidebook, which I browsed on the quiet train ride south. Arriving at Kyoto station early, I chose a direction, one that took me through the city’s center and up east toward Higashiyama.
I saw some of the most interesting things. Through downtown were shopkeepers sweeping the streets preparing for customers, students in uniform heading to Saturday club activities, and old married couples well dressed for their sightseeing destinations. I saw a city waking and beginning its day.
Heading farther east, morning turned to noon, and what a day it became. Monks were practicing their daily chants; I could hear a deep bell being rung from far away. An artists’ class set themselves up in the grass and were studying a springtime shrine. Two ladies walked by in kimono holding umbrellas to protect them from the sun. Foreign tourists were out with cameras photographing everything they saw.
By late afternoon, I began my trip home. I looked back and recollected the day and thought how remarkable it was. As the sun was setting, I took a nap on the train.
posted by dan at 12:07 AM
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