ON GAIJIN POWERS
There is a website from another JET that is widely popular. In it, he mentions having gained certain “Gaijin (foreigner) Powers”, many of which are silly things that happen to most Gaijins. I have found that I do possess one Gaijin power – the power of Gaijin Narcolepsy. I have the power to look at anyone on a train, and, if they are looking at me, they are immediately struck with a strong bout of narcolepsy. It’s amazing. I’ll look up, catch someone’s eye, and their head falls to their chest, their eyes close, and they cease all movement. I think it’s better than Nyquil. I should try to patent it over here.

ON GENKI
JET's have taken it and morphed it into many different particles of speech. It can be a verb - "I am genki", it can be a noun - "Get your genki on!" – it can be an adjective “I was genki happy today”, etc. Genki is being happy, lively, energetic, perky, cheerful, upbeat, positive - all wrapped into one evil, hateful, horrible ball of malevolence.

ON BEING TERRIFYING
So I’ve never met an adult that was so petrified of me that they were almost crying. Until I came to Japan, that is. At my Welcome Party, I just had to laugh as I watched people down alcohol just so they’d have the courage to come talk to me. It was absolutely hilarious that they needed to drink to even feel brave enough to come speak to me. I was strangely, oddly honored by this. Japan is messing with my brain, I guess. But it is really hard for them to come speak to me in English, and they were trying to work up the courage. It was touching and amusing and really, really bizarre. Eventually, this one timid young woman came up with one of my OL’s. She was visibly shaking and kept looking at the OL and giggling. She handed me a card, and I asked if I could open it. She mimed that I could and said, “Yes”. Her voice was shaking. Poor girl. The card was an anniversary card that said, “On your Anniversary: This anniversary card is perfect for you, because it’s special and different from the rest…just like you two!” Inside, she wrote: “X-SAN – Let me introduce myself! My name is K T. I like chocorate so my nickname was “choco” in high school. My hometown is Y-city. Y-gakko’s junior high school is my alma mater. I study English now. I want to speak with you. But I am little shy. So I can’t talk to you. Could you talk with me sometime from now on? YOROSHIKU ONEGAISHIMASU. from K” She was so scared. I told her that I was shy, too, so it’s okay. We talked a little (her English was VERY good), and she said she would be picking me up for work on Wednesday (she almost started crying at this point. Her eyes were red and I could see tears forming). She explained that some of the OL’s went to Australia this May, and that’s where she got the card. I said several times how nice the card was and how cute it was, and how much I liked and appreciated it. I told her to not be shy, that I wanted to talk to her, too, etc. I kept saying, “Don’t be shy. It’s okay!” I was so relieved to talk to her, though. Being at the table with all the important guys who didn’t speak English was making me very, very uncomfortable.

ON HANDWASHING CLOTHES (email to parents)
They have a delicate cycle, but it's not very delicate. I'd say it's "Mildly Abusive" instead of the full out "Drunk and Disorderly Brawl" that is the Japanese washing machine's normal cycle.

ON BEING VERY JOUZU
I was complimented for the first time the other day by how jouzu (skilled) I was at using chopsticks. I’ve found, though, that it’s not so much how jouzu you are with using the chopsticks as much as how jouzu you are with hiding the evidence of not using them properly. First of all, always wear dark-colored or patterned clothing, so a spill is harder to spot. Then, wait until your co-workers aren’t looking (provide a distraction, if necessary. I’ve found yelling, “OH, LOOK!!! It’s Godzilla!!!” to be highly effective. Afterwards, just apologize and say, “Sorry, my mistake. It was just a giant grasshopper.”), then try to shovel as much in your mouth as possible. If necessary, pick up your bowl or plate and hold it straight up to your mouth. Whatever misses will land on your lap, which you can move under the table or desk simply by shifting your knees. When your co-workers turn back, they will be amazed at how well and how quickly you can eat with chopsticks.

ON GIGGLING
Japanese ladies (and in some cases men) giggle a lot. There’s no way to preface that or soften it. They just do. It’s like some sort of racial Tourettes’ Syndrome or something. They have to giggle and get it out of their system or else they’ll explode. I guess if I had to choose, I’d prefer giggling over swearing or violence.

ON THE JAPANESE CONECPT OF COOL
I can’t figure out the double standard of Japanese “cool.” I’ve seen these guys with the cool hair cuts and the tailored clothes, looking very suave and sophisticated. They even have the J-guy (Japanese-guy) model poses and the pouty lips look. So I’ll be looking at one, and suddenly I’ll look down and see that they have a Mickey Mouse keychain hanging from their cell phone. In the US, that would be a great way to acquire the nickname “Minnie” and get your butt kicked repeatedly after school. Here, it’s cool. It’s at times like this that I remember that I am facing not only a language barrier, but a culture barrier as well.

ON TRICKING THE MAYOR
So on the day I arrived in my city, I was told I was going to meet the mayor the next day. I had been told ahead of time to bring a present, so I bought a coffee mug with a picture of Ohio and some facts about Ohio on it. The only problem was, I wasn’t given a box – the sales clerk just wrapped it in tissue paper. Giving present in Japan is a big thing, and part of the present is how well it is wrapped. Wrapping a box-less mug was going to be a challenge, but I was sure I could do it.In retrospect, I have no idea WHY I thought I could, considering my track record with wrapping. Every Christmas, it’s a tradition for my family to mock my present-wrapping skills, as I have none. So, foolishly, I didn’t worry about having a box.

The night before I was to meet the mayor, I tried wrapping my mug. It was quite the chore, and the result can only be called a monstrosity. Not very impressive. I started stressing, but realized there was nothing I could do. I tried to convince myself that it really DIDN’T look like I had wrapped a live animal while it was squirming. Trying to put it out of my mind, I started exploring my apartment (this was the first night I was in the apartment, so I still hadn’t looked in closets and such yet). As I dinked around in the kitchen, I happened upon an almost empty cupboard. Behold, in said cupboard, with a halo of light around it and the Hallelujah Chorus playing from inside it, was an empty mug box. I squealed, ran to unwrap my wrapped wreck, and held my breath as I made sure the mug would fit in the box. It would! YES!!! Quickly getting more paper, I wrapped the box with military precision. Lines were folded hard several times, creases were exactly on the lines. And to be sure that the paper would not fall off, I taped it several times (it’s a trademark of my wrapping jobs to use excessive amounts of tape. That way, even if I tape it poorly, the package still stays closed). And this present actually did look impressive – very, very well wrapped, if I do say so myself (which I do). So, armed with an amazingly wrapped present, I went to meet the mayor.

I didn’t realize that it was going to be such a big thing until I go there, and there were 4 reporters outside and a news camera. ?!?!? I started to freak out, and U-sensei said (as was soon to become his refrain for me), “Rerax. It’s okay.” So I tried to “rerax.” It didn’t work. I went in to meet the mayor, trying to smile at him as I was blinded by camera flashes. The mayor would say something. I would smile as he said it. Then I would keep smiling and lean towards U-sensei, who was whispering as he translated, so I could barely hear him. I then replied in short sentences to U-sensei, who translated to the mayor. We sat down, and I gave him the present. He admired the wrapping job (as he darn well should have after all the effort I put into that sucker), then tried to open it. Now, I didn’t realize that ripping wrapping paper is not polite over here. My sister would adapt well to the present system over here; to rip the wrapping paper (say THAT ten times fast) is, I guess, considered bad manners. So my way of wrapping presents (with as much tape as possible) is actually either incredibly cruel or incredibly amusing, depending on what side of the present you are. “It is wrapped so well that I cannot open it,” the mayor laughed to U-sensei, who translated. I thought the mayor was going to have conniptions trying to get into the darn box. I kept apologizing and looking very worried, but inside, I was laughing so hard I was in tears. I could see the headlines, “Gaijin stumps mayor with cleverly wrapped present. H-city declares war on Ohio.”

ON OUR CLEAN BEACHES
I went to the beach with some people the other day. My city is famous for its beautiful beaches. I didn’t go swimming at first, and after the first person came out and said he thought he had just been stung by a jellyfish, I decided to hold off the joyous occasion of my first trip to the emergency room until a later date. Some others were braver than I, though, and took the plunge. Two people came back at one point, and I asked them how the water was. “You mean aside from the trash floating around in it?” Ken said (We call him Yamaguchi Ken [“ken” is the Japanese word for “prefecture,” so our prefecture is called Yamaguchi-ken] because we're clever like that). Choco, another AET, said that there were a lot of condom wrappers around, but they had yet to see any used condoms. Later, someone asked me if I was going to swim. I stated that, no, I had no desire to swim, as it would feel like I was swimming in STD’s.

ON GIANT BUGS
The other day, one of my Department Heads came into the BOE holding something…well, prehistoric is the only adjective that comes to mind. It was a giant bug, roughly the size of a Volkswagen. Other people in the office (even the OL’s [Office Ladies]) came up to look at the thing. I sat and pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in my reading. The Department Head called out my name and said, “What?”. Eventually, I figured out that he wanted to know what we call the bug in English. My initial thought was, “Hell if I know,” followed by, “Freaking Scary.” Opting out of both of these, I said, “I’m not sure. We don’t get bugs that big back home. But I’d guess it would be a dragonfly. Dragon (growl) fly (arms flutter). DRAGON FLY.” Cue the alien language routine. “Duragon furye.” Sure. That works. “In Japanese, we call tonbon.” I dutifully repeated “tonbon.” Why is it that of all the words people have tried to teach me, I forget the helpful ones, but remember the words for spider and dragon fly? Why can’t I remember the word for washing machine or lesson plans? Sigh.

ON STRANGE LABELS
The Japanese are obsessed with English. They like to see things written in English, and it doesn’t have to be good English, so long as it’s English words written down. English makes things sell well, apparently, so you will find English on almost everything. The words they use, though, are not usually checked by a native English speaker for accuracy. As a result, you will see English all over the place that makes no apparent sense whatsoever. It’s like how Americans enjoy having Chinese or Japanese artifacts with kanji (pictorial symbols) on them. For all we know, the kanji could mean, “I went to China and all I got was this silly shirt”. So here are two examples of bizarre, yet fun “Engrish” (a term coined to describe this kind of usage) from Japan.
Item 1: “It abbs abundant frightnees to pleasure of the tabie.” Good luck guessing where that one came from.

Item 2: “The spirit of OKASHI. It is what gives a peaceful and pleasant mind to the human race. All the time, man seeks romance in the OKASHI. We have been working hard and carefully, and work on. To weave the romance and the fancy into each OKASHI. This, at last, we have made up ‘The HAKATA SEIYO-WAGASHI.’ If you taste the feeling and the spirit of the OKASHI which value tradition and living in the times, there is no pleasure better than it.” This was from a sweet bread filled with stuff that someone brought back as omiyage (a present for the office). The office ladies saw that it was written in English and asked me to explain it. Umm…yeah. I translated romance as nostalgia, but I had no idea where to go from there.

ON THE SENSITIVITY OF ALT’S (assistant language teachers)
At a recent orientation session, we were given 10 minutes to prepare a self-introduction using 4 sheets of paper. We had to draw stuff about ourselves on the sheets and pretend we were going to present it to our students. After the 10 minutes were up, the leaders asked if someone would volunteer to be the first to present. Everyone started calling out the names of the 2 biggest jokers in the group, and one eventually got up and said he’d present. So he got up and said very loudly and very slowly (a little too much of both), “Hello, everybody.” Many of us mature adults then called back, “HA RO!” which is how most students say Hello because they can’t pronounce the L sound. The ones who didn’t say HARO laughed at it, anyway. Yeah. We were mocking our cute little junior high school students who can’t speak well because they haven’t had enough practice yet. Oh, yeah. We are all SO going to hell.