This morning I woke up early, probably because I was a
little cold, despite having adding a freshly washed sheet to my bed. I went
back to sleep at woke up 10 minutes before my alarm from a dream about me and
my ninja family trying to defeat/escape from bad guys who had our house under
siege by paparazzi. I got up at 7:40, got ready, and put my plastic trash out
at 8:20am. As I was waiting for the elevator, I saw it was going up to the 5th
floor. A middle-aged/old salaryman with a combover came out of the elevator. We
nodded at each other, and glanced at each other again as the elevator doors
closed behind me and stepped out the glass security door. I went back to my
room to wait for F-sensei. I opened the windows and ate a banana.
At a little past 9, my intercom rang, and F-sensei told me
to hurry down. I donned the gloves from last time and raced downstairs and
dragged the rusty drying rack (he did understand what I wanted after all) and
the basket of hangers he had left in front of the security door to the
elevator. F-sensei passed by outside in his car, and I waved and bowed to him.
As I carried the grubby thing to my room, I resolved to cover it using the same
plastic sheets I had bought at the 100 yen store to cover the old desk with. Then
I grabbed my stuff and left, fearing that I would be late for orientation.
F-sensei and K-san from the International Exchange and Support room had both
checked to make sure I would attend. F-sensei, especially, said that attendance
was mandatory, in a way that if I didn’t attend, I would be kicked out of the
program.
I made it to campus by about 9:30am, where I ran into a
group of Chinese students. One of them recognized me from the day before, and
she called out to me. We walked together to the Economics building. We waited
outside since we were 20 minutes early. When it was time, we all filed into the
room, where we were given assigned seats. I was placed in the back and asked to
try my best with Japanese explanations. The Chinese people were lucky, because
after the Japanese explanations, they got Chinese explanations too. But I
understood most things, and some of the papers had English too, so I was fine.
Orientation felt very long. The banana had dissolved away
into nothing, leaving me feeling lethargic and restless. I was also suddenly
afflicted with a runny nose, which I tried to blow discreetly as some of the
very accomplished senior Chinese students (one of whom was preparing to study
abroad in Germany) introduced themselves. They were very good at Japanese. I’ve
been surprised by how many Chinese people at Tohoku University are excellent
speakers of Japanese, some with minimal Chinese accents. Of course, they’ve
been in Japan for a while and are probably hardworking and very smart.
I was exhausted by the time orientation was over. I was
hungry, but I didn’t feel like venturing out by myself to get food. I went up
to the Exchange room and sat next to the quiet Japanese guy from the night
before (Yh-san). There were other Japanese guys there, and we said introductions.
Then most of them except for Yh-san had to go to class. I stayed and looked at
my orientation papers for a while, and Yh-san gave me a tiny cookie, which
re-energized me. I decided to go to the school convenience store to buy food.
As I was leaving the store with onigiri and a daifuku?, I ran into the
Fulbright researcher studying geology here, with some of her coworkers. We
spoke briefly, she introduced me to her coworkers, and then I went back to the
Exchange room.
My food disappeared very quickly. I regained some of my focus
and looked through my papers and worked on various paperwork forms I needed to
fill out. One of the Japanese guys came back as Yh-san left, so he helped me
with the parts of the forms I was unsure about. Meanwhile, the two of the staff
members were passionately arguing/discussing the upcoming Welcome party and
whether or not they were expected to attend. One of the women hadn’t been
present at the previous instance of the event, so kept asking the other one
what had happened to the attendance sheet, but she didn’t know. The staff get
along really well, so even though they seemed like they were arguing, they were
actually agreeing and patting each other on the shoulder. Yh-san commented
later after they left that the Exchange room was rather noisy (sawagashii)
today.
At about 3 or 4pm, a lot of the Japanese people came back,
and it became even noisier. Allergy-san was there, and his voice was louder
than everyone’s. I tried to work on my application for a Japanese tutor, but I
couldn’t concentrate, so I joined the conversations instead. Or, I attempted
to. I mostly listened, because there were at least 3 conversations going on at
once. Allergy-san’s was the loudest, but he also had the most slangy Japanese,
and he spoke really fast, so I didn’t understand a lot of what he was saying.
The Japanese girl, K-san, and the guy next to her were talking about paperwork.
One of the staff members was talking to me; she told me that I actually didn’t
have a tutor yet, because all the guys I had met so far didn’t speak clean
enough Japanese for me to learn from. She thought I should have a more serious,
hardworking tutor like K-san to teach me proper Japanese, like the kind I would
need to write for my research reports, and I could just be friends with the
guys.
Things continued like this, with lively conversations going
on all around, until after 5pm, when Allergy-san and K-san mentioned that there
was a class they wanted to go to, but they weren’t sure about it because it
might rain and because it wasn’t clear whether it was in English or Japanese.
They finally left at 5:40pm, and I tagged along.
The class was called “Global Company Research,” and the
teacher, a soft-spoken middle-aged man who you could barely hear despite the
microphone, conducted the introduction mostly in English, with some Japanese
explanations.
When class ended, I went up to the assistant teacher to ask
if I could audit the class, and to have her sign my form. Then I rejoined with
the Japanese people, who had found some friends, and we all went outside,
fearing that it would be pouring rain. It turned out to be a gentle sprinkle,
but the Japanese people all acted like it would suddenly turn into a downpour.
The girls hadn’t brought umbrellas, and they debated how safe it would be to
ride their bikes back. They ended up doing it.
I parted ways with them at the bike lot, explaining that I
wanted to look for the Art Club. They pointed me in the direction they thought
it was, and I started walking. I was approaching the Bee Café when I spotted a
group of people practicing a dance. I went up to them and asked about how often
they practice, what kind of dance they do (hip hop/break dance), and if I could
watch. They were very friendly, but told me that their leader hadn’t arrived
yet. I told them I would come back in a little while to watch then.
I kept walking to a building that was labeled “Physical
Education Building.” It clearly didn’t have clubrooms for nonsport activities,
so I went around the side of the buildings to a row of low buildings. The first
door was open, revealing a guy working a pottery wheel, with pots on the floor
all over the room. There was another door inside leading to a side room, with a
couple guys talking. (BTW: the university is probably about 60% boys to 40%
girls, or maybe more skewed, depending on the department.) I asked the guy at
the wheel if this was the art club, but he said that this was the pottery club,
and that the art club was somewhere else, but he didn’t know where. I thanked
him and kept walking along the path between the club rooms and the Phys Ed
Bldg. Suddenly, I heard two guys calling out to me. I turned around and saw the
two guys who had been in the side room. They explained that they had heard I
was looking for the Art Club, and that they thought it was in that building
over there. I thanked them, and they hurried away as I followed the path to a
poorly lit building. A girl exited an unlit door to the bike lot. Some of the
rooms were lit, and many were dark. I could hear people practicing on
instruments: trumpets, violins. I went around the building to see if there was
a better lit door, but there wasn’t. I went in the other open door, past a
staircase, and found myself in a courtyard. Students sat on the edges
practicing with their violins. I spotted the mandolin club practicing in their
club room. I went out through the door to the bike lot, and then came back in.
As I passed the staircase, a group of people came from the courtyard. I stood
aside for them, and asked them if they knew where the Art Club was. They were
flustered by my question. They didn’t know where it was. I thanked them and
went upstairs a floor. There were flyers for various clubs hanging on the
walls: Go club, manga club, animation club, jazz club, etc. There was a Photo
club flyer buried beneath a spider web. On the second floor, there was a large
space in the middle I couldn’t enter (I don’t remember why). I walked around
the edge to where a couple of trumpet players were squatting, paging through
music. It was dim. They scooted so I could go past, but I stopped and asked
where the Art Club was. To my surprise, one of the players knew, and he
enthusiastically offered to take me up a floor to their room. We walked up the
stairs together onto the dark 3rd floor (all the floor were dimly
lit and grimy). We turned to the left and he pointed to room 307. Next to the
door of the room was a stack of paintings leaning against the wall. He moved
some aside so I could see the one reading “Art Club” in Japanese. I thanked him
with a big smile and went to the door. I could see the room was full of people.
I timidly knocked and opened the door. I asked, “Is this the Art Club?” They
said yes. Then I asked if I could come in (although I was already halfway in
anyway). They were disconcerted, but they welcomed me. I introduced myself, and
they commented on my Japanese skill. I asked about the club, and they
explained, gesturing to the sculptures and paintings displayed around the room.
Then they had me sit and gave me a photo album of their previous art gallery
show for me to look at. As I paged through it, they explained different events
they had coming up: the school festival at the end of October, where they would
sell food and draw portraits; a portrait practice session tomorrow; a riverside
potato boiling event, apparently a tradition in Sendai. They were also very
relaxed about attendance. The room’s smell and the club’s atmosphere reminded
me a lot of the Art Club at Kobe University. But I definitely had less
difficulty communicating this time around.
After they explained the events and mentioned the 3000 yen
($30) club fee, I took my leave. I went back to the dance club. I asked if it
was okay to watch, and they said it was okay to try practicing with them. I
immediately joined them at the back, but I was awful. I hadn’t eaten dinner and
I was tired from orientation, so I couldn’t remember the dance moves. The
leader also asked for less feedback from the dancers; he paid attention and
would repeat moves if he saw a need, but there was more pressure to catch up
quickly. The people in the front row caught on very quickly, so I tried to
follow them. The practice style was also different. He would teach a set of
moves, and then we would practice them in a loop. Then we would learn the next
set of moves, and loop them. After we learned 4-6 sets, we went through all of
them. Personally, I’m terrible at mentally connecting set of steps, so I always
forgot the next step. The practice speed went from slow to very fast quickly
and abruptly, so I was trying to catch up the whole time.
After an hour, we got 15 minutes break to drink water and
practice on our own. I had reached the end of my endurance, so I decided to
leave. I wanted to say something to the leader before I left, but everyone was
busy practicing and teaching each other, so I didn’t know how to interrupt. I
walked home, feeling guilty for not properly showing gratitude for letting me
practice with them.
I stopped at the CO-OP on the way, and picked up some items
to make dinner and breakfast with.
Then I looked at the mail I had gotten: a mysterious paper
saying that a company was holding a security deposit of 10,000 yen ($100) for
me, a notice of undelivered mail from the post office, an advertisement for a
prep class to become a government employee, some sort of magazine printed on
newsprint, and a weekly newspaper from Kahoku Sendai. I don’t understand the
bill-type of mails I’ve received, so I plan to ask about them tomorrow.
All the Japanese people I met today asked if I speak
Japanese; and when someone or I would answer yes, they would respond “Really?”
disbelievingly, look at me incredulously, and then speak Japanese. As the
conversation progressed, they would become impressed that my abilities exceeded
their expectations so much. I guess at a university that offers so many
English-language classes, including entire degree programs targeted towards
foreigners, it’s normal not to expect much Japanese skill from a foreigner.
Writing this took a while, so it’s 1:26am now. My internet
isn’t working. “Error 651: The modem (or other connecting device) has reported
an error.) I want to read the email my advisor has sent me.
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