The Lines, the Face, and the Hanging Basket

Japan is a funny place. I moved to a small town there in 1995, a few months after my future wife sent me a letter saying she'd found me a job there. Of course, what she really meant was "Please move here. I love you and can't live without you," forgetting in our year apart that I was actually much easier to love from afar.

Sharon didn't greet me my first night in Japan. Or my first week, for that matter, even though my hotel was within walking distance of her house. You see, Sharon's parents were in the country that week, visiting from Oklahoma, and she didn't want us running in to each other. In fact, she'd call me in my hotel room late at night and tell me what areas of town to avoid the next day. "Kawanishimachi," she'd whisper into the phone. "Don't visit the kawanishimachi area. You'll know you are there if you see signs with characters that look like lines, a face, and a hanging basket."

She's not the first woman to go to such lengths to keep me from their parents.

Not that it really mattered. My hotel room had an electric bidet toilet, complete with heated seat and two water jets, so while I didn't have any idea where the kawanishimachi area was, unless it sprayed warm water at my taint, I was just fine where I was.

The console said the second jet was for woman parts, but don't you believe that.

The job Sharon had landed me was that of English teacher in the worst high school in the district, and it was easily the best job I have ever had. The school was terrible. The students, horrendous. Nobody expected anything from them, and in turn, nobody expected anything from me. Had my appointment there been arranged by Hollywood, I would have been the misfit teacher coming in to turn the school around with my irresistible mixture of straight-talk and persistence, but happily this was real life, so I spent most of my time there in the nap room.

Yes, the nap room. It was a small room, lined with tatami mats, and it was for napping. I'll give you all a minute to compose yourselves before I continue.

My classroom duties were virtually non-existent. For the first year, I followed Japanese teachers from class to class, responsible for nothing but parroting the English lesson out loud with my authentic American accent. The students in this school did not pay attention. The teachers did not ask them to. Once, out of boredom, I walked the aisles of a class and gently tapped the desk of a student who had put his head down to sleep through the lesson. He rewarded my attention by exploding from his desk and throwing a trash can at me. I had to spend the rest of the day in the nap room just to regain my composure.

It was not what you imagine when you stop to think of a Japanese high school.

The pay, however, was very good and the hours quite tolerable, so at the end of each day, I had nothing but good feelings about living there and doing my job, anemic though it was. Besides, it wasn't for the job that I moved there; it was for Sharon. The love of such a woman could make almost any job bearable. And for the rest, I recommend electric bidet toilets.

Comments

[LiteralDan]

Please don't take it as an insult to everything you've written over the past couple years that I can say without doubt this is my favorite post of all time.

I will resist the urge to quote back your own post to you, and just say I will be sharing this widely, and laughing each time I reread.

Also, I may be looking into the current job market in Japan.

[Sue]

Authentic American accent? I thought you were from Texas...

I just spent the last week researching which toilets I should buy to replace my 1994 crappy crappers. There are hilarious demo videos posted online of the newest toilet models flushing the impossible. You can choose from the American Standard flushing 18 golf balls at once or the Gerber Viper flushing 7 pounds of fruit salad. Have fun!

[Brian]

LiteralDan, I don't know what to say to you except to encourage you to read the post again. I fear you commented on the wrong website.

And Sue, Gerber really flubbed their market research if they think any man is going to dangle his privates over something called a "Viper." Putting 7 pounds of fruit salad in it doesn't help much, either.

[Jay @ HalftimeLessons]

Im sorry, but that seat would freak me out so bad that the resulting pucker would prevent the passage of anything.
Enjoyed your blog, look forward to keeping up with you!

Jay

[rachel]

you're right - not at all what i'd expect from a school in japan... but more importantly, why did sharon want to avoid your crossing paths with her parents!? i sense an untold story.... :)

[Stephanie]

I wonder if this is how high schools in Japan are now? If so, I'm there.

[Jonathan's Mum]

Whenever Jonathan's Dad travels to Japan, he too, raves about the toilets. He said they make him feel like Captain Kirk at the helm. Forget that whole, "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" - I say the way to a man's heart is through the buttons he can push.

[Loretta]

I dream of a nap room. Sadly my desk is against the wall and anyone walking past would see me asleep under it.

[loren]

"Do you like naps and travel?"

Why yes, yes I do. I have an authentic American accent. Sign me up!

[CanadaSteph]

Yes! Tell us why you were in hiding from Sharon's parents. Sharon sounds like a catch for you to travel around the world to be with her. It's a very romantic story.

[~annie]

OK - where do I sign up for a job in Japan? If they don't need English teachers, I speak German, too. It goes without saying that I am fluent in naps, no?

[renata]

I just happened to read a CNN article reporting how at least one Japanese company is sending their employees home "early" to help with Japan's putative major social problem; not enough babies. "Early" meaning less-than-12-hour workday, which is very common there. No thanks!

And no, I never imagined such a school in Japan. Hurray for puncturing another stereotype. ;)

[Taado]

Your post was fine, but your response to Sue was the real snorter of the day.

[Laura]

" Besides, it wasn't for the job that I moved there; it was for Sharon. The love of such a woman could make almost any job bearable."

I think Sharon is gonna like this post. Either that or she's gonna snort when she reads it.

Yes - please do tell us why you were to avoid her parents. You're married now. They can't really maim you for something you did that long ago. Can they?

[father muskrat]

You should've explored the hanging basket further.

[Tess]

Okay. Lately I've been spending way too much time trying to figure which little room in my house can function as a gym. I don't need a gym...I need a NAP ROOM! Duh! Why didn't I think of that?!?! My husband will love the idea, much cheaper. In twenty-five years I'll be sure to tell the cardiologist it was The Dad's fault.

[You can call me, 'Sir']

My own personal taint sprayer would probably be the one benefit mandatory for me to accept a job teaching angst-y Japanese youth.

[3-Martini Jennifer]

Holy crap, dude, you said "taint" on your blog!

[Miss Yvonne]

For some reason, I have that song "Gangster's Paradise" and visions of Michelle Pfiefer in my head after reading this post.

I'm afraid of bidets...they look scary to me.

[Angela]

So...do you still have to hide in the bathroom when Sharon's parents are around, or are you allowed to be seen?
That's a very interesting perspective of Japanese high school students...one that doesn't get told very often, was it a technical/trades high school rather than an academic high school...just curious.

[wcyote]

Now thats funny, a whole week in hiding??

[stompie]

i'll tell you, i had to get a little drunk before i was willing to give the warm jets a whirl, when i first came to japan. then, BECAUSE i was drunk, i sat there enjoying it for a good 5 minutes before i realized i didn't know how to turn them off.

word to the wise: it doesn't stop automatically when you stand up.

[Trannyhead]

The Japanese REALLY do love their toilets. These are people who, after all, have toilet seat warmers, musical toilets, and toilets that can sense if you're a man or a woman and lift the lid JUST for you.

SCARY.