Sunday, August 10, 2014

The Beginning of an Affair to Remember, Part II

If you haven't read Part I, please read that first.

***

So, in the summer of 2007 I graduated high school.  In those three years I had luckily been able to learn how to do work and get decent grades, and I was accepted to my first choice university.  I wanted to study two things: Japanese language and studio arts.


My studio arts career crashed at my first freshman course.  The professor was more interested in displaying her own work than nurturing her students' and she had a very peculiar way of making assignments.  For example, our final project was to "draw yourself."  Obviously we were free to do as we pleased and I drew a realistic version of myself leaning against a more cartoon-y version of, well, myself.  It was supposed to show my past - enjoying the style of manga and anime - and where I was now, an adult.  I spent a full week drawing that portrait, taking pictures with my friend to get an idea of what I would look like leaning against someone and carefully shading everything.

She hated it.

She said that my cartoon version wasn't "flat" enough and that the picture held no interest for the viewer.  

On the other hand, my friend drew himself as a knight in shining armor. He told me he had done it the night before and was just jagging around.

The professor, of course, loved it.

After that class I quit studio arts and never looked back.  I focused on Japanese, which was always easy for me.  The first semester, actually, was essentially just a refresher course from high school.  I went to class every day without studying and passed with flying colors.  The rest of the semesters wouldn't be nearly that easy, however.

Each week for my first two years at uni was essentially the same: 5 days of a Japanese immersion class, in which we were required to speak only Japanese (even as freshmen with no knowledge of the language), two days of grammar practice (which was luckily conducted in English), and then whatever other necessary courses got me up to 15 credits.  I studied Japanese art (another bad arts-related class), read The Tale of Genji (which was excellent), studied "pop" culture (which was hilariously outdated), and examined modern Japanese literature (which I paid approximately 0 attention to), in addition to the non-Japanese related courses (my favorite was linguistics.  Why didn't I major in linguistics?)  

The previously mentioned pop culture class took all of its cues from 1980's Japan, Japan's economic bubble period where money flowed like water and consumerism was at an all-time high.  We learned about western cowboy-themed bars (where the patrons described themselves as having the "spirit of the cowboy" and which, for the most part, don't exist anymore), the bright fashion of Japan (which, for the most part, doesn't exist anymore), and social oddities like parasite singles and yellow cabs (which, for the most part, don't exist anymore... at least not to the extent of being a cultural phenomenon like in the 80's).   Imagine the culture shock for me of not only going to a foreign country, but one that didn't even fill the culture that I studied about in a $12,000/year university!

In my 3rd year at uni I studied abroad in Kyoto for nine months.  I was lucky to go with my best friend, even though we ended up living in different areas (she was already used to living in apartments, and so she preferred that; I didn't want to let go of the safety net that a dormitory offered).  My time in Kyoto was the best time of my life.  I met people from all of the nooks and crannies of the globe, many of whom I'm still in touch with, and my Japanese ability skyrocketed thanks to the total immersion-style of the courses.

I chose a school in Kyoto specifically to be closer to my host mother from my high-school study abroad trip.  Thanks to events that happened later (and again, I'll give her her own post some time), my happy memories of school have unfortunately become a bit tarnished.  That being said, objectively (and specifically if I cut her out of the picture) it was still the high period of my life to this point.

The first semester was a bit of a struggle.  I had never lived more than 15 minutes away from home in my life (excepting the home-stay, of course), and I had never lived alone.  This time around I had my own, single dorm room, with my own bathroom.  I didn't have a kitchen to call my own, though; I still had to share with all of the other students.  And my bathroom didn't have a shower, so that still required me to walk around in a bathrobe to and from the basement whenever I needed to get clean.  

With all the boys around. :/

Even though it was my own room, it's still difficult to call a dormitory "living alone."  If I was lonely it was incredibly easy to just walk out into the hallway and find someone to talk to.  There were parties pretty often, and even if there were no other students to chat with, the managers were always on hand to gab with.

And let me tell you what, those two were the absolute best landlords/managers anyone could ever ask for.  They were an older married couple, and they actually lived in the dormitory (in addition to having their own house near the city), so they were always there.  They actually had a cat, which was a total no-no, but none of us minded (though apparently some students a few years after us actually had the audacity to report them to the higher-ups.  What the hell!  Luckily they weren't forced to get rid of the cat - or maybe they were and they just ignored it - but at any rate the cat was already 16 or so years old and unfortunately passed not long after.) 

They had both lived in America for a few years in the 70's, and the husband actually had had an aunt that lived in Florida (and when she passed, she left the house to him -- but he couldn't take it, living and working in Japan and all.)  Thanks to that experience they were willing and able to work with us crazy students, using an eclectic mix of Japanese and English.  Their personalities also suited me just fine - the wife was a complete and total sweetheart, while the husband was a bit more blunt.  He reminded me of my grandfather, gruff but with a nice heart.  He would occasionally come to me with rules or party information and just say "Hey, translate this."  I never took offense.

Now, back to what I was talking about before - the first semester.  I was horribly homesick.  I seriously considered just cutting out after the semester ended and going home early.  My friend was able to convince me otherwise - 1, she said, I would be wasting an amazing opportunity, and at any rate, 2) I would lose a semester of college (the Japanese and American semesters run on different schedules, so I wouldn't have been able to just "go back" to my uni.)  Losing a semester of college meant throwing away $6,000+ - as well as the amazing opportunity - so I stuck it out.

I went home that winter vacation (which ended up being in February) and I stayed for the whole month+.  It ended up being exactly what I needed - not because it was a great time, but because it was such a terrible time.  My father, of course, had to work, but his working nights meant that he was also generally unavailable during the day (due to sleep being a necessary thing,) which meant I was more often than not alone in the house.  My boyfriend at the time, too, was often busy, and I saw him probably thrice the whole time.  And each time was progressively more disappointing than the last (and we ended up breaking up via Skype a few months later.)  That year also brought Snowmageddon, a ridiculous amount of snowfall that required me to walk my dog in thigh-high snow (I won't lie, though, I liked it.)

When I went back to Japan I steeled against going home early and found a club to join with a friend.  I joined a dance club, or "circle" (just a club with less crazy restrictions), and it was the best decision I've probably ever made.  We danced yosakoi, a kind of semi-traditional dance only created in the last 60 years.  There was a broad mix of people in the club; it was officially a university group, but anyone over the age of 20 was allowed to join.  One of our leaders was a college graduate who had had dreams of becoming a professional ballerina, but (probably due to her height) was unable to.  She had actually gone to New York to study at a prestigious ballet school in her youth (but couldn't speak a word of English).  There was also a young businessmen or two who would come in their suits and change at the practice area.

I traveled with the group all the way to Hokkaido were we performed several times over the course of two days for the Sapporo YOSAKOI Soran Festival.  That year just happened to be the hottest on record; even normally cool Hokkaido was spouting temperatures in the upper 80's.  Our handlers were a bit worried for our health!

Thanks to dancing hectically every week, in addition to not actually having enough money to properly buy food, I lost probably 30 pounds that semester.  It was awesome.  It's not a diet I recommend, of course, but  I never felt like I had to exercise, or I had to go dance; it was something I really, truly loved doing, and I'm sure that even if I had had more than my measly $50/month food money I'm sure I would've lost weight.

After my second semester ended I returned to the states, thinner, wiser, and with a new boyfriend.  I didn't have much time to relax before my last year at uni began; objectively my worst year.  Had I not failed a chemistry course I would have had just enough credits per semester to graduate on time without going overboard, but...  let's just say that me and nematodes are not good friends.  I had told myself I would stick it out until the first test, at which point I would either stay with it (pass) or drop the class (fail).  I studied for hours, and I still had no clue what on earth the book was talking about.  I actually had a panic attack before the test, and it was then that I found out I couldn't just "drop the course" as I had hoped.  The professor had scheduled the test right after the add/drop period ended!  What the hell!

So I had to get special permission to drop, and I got a U (for unfinished), and my GPA suffered slightly. 

The next semester I had to make up for the missing 3 credits, so I took two Japanese courses, physics of science fiction (much more boring than you might think), Intro to Piano, and some other courses I've forgotten for a grand total of 18 credits.  And I did it!  I graduated!

In that time I was busy applying for a Japanese language intensive course in Yokohama, conducted through Stanford University.  It was pretty prestigious, and not many people get in.  It was to be my gateway to working in Japan - I would study business/professional/specialty Japanese, and the esteem of the school would help me get to any job I pleased.

 I was accepted!  I was so excited!

Until I started researching what kind of projects the students do.  See, all of the students are required to make a presentation in Japanese related to their field.  The list of all these projects is available online.

"Rethinking the common preconceptions of 'religion.'"
"Globalized illicit traffic."
"An overview of the Antarctic treaty system."
"Microfinance at crossroads."

Holy crap.  I can't imagine what any of any of those are about, let alone research and present them in Japanese!

As for my field, well, my field was Japanese language.  It never extended anywhere beyond that.  I loved - and still love - everything about the language, and I studied it with every fiber.

But what could I have possibly presented about? I was the one that wrote an essay about how the localization of Pokemon was racist (maybe one day I'll post it here.)   Anything I could have done would have just seemed ridiculous.

Then there was the cost.  The summer program is $5,000!  The 10-month program is $31,000!  And you have to pay for your airfare and living expenses!  I applied for financial aid, but as the days passed an I got no word...

I dropped out of the program.  

Of course they had to give me a guilt trip about it - "You were in consideration for financial aid!" - but I just couldn't justify spending that much money (I don't even remember if I applied for the summer or for the year program), on a program that I felt like I'd be a square peg in a round hole.

Instead, I applied for jobs with English conversation schools.  I went through 3 interviews before I found one that allowed me my single requirement:

It had to be near Kyoto.
Up to FOUR HOURS AWAY from Kyoto was fine!  

The spokesperson for one company wouldn't grant even that.  She said I was being unreasonable, and that  I should be willing to go anywhere, not just Kyoto.

I said, Lady, four hours away from Kyoto brings me all the way to Hiroshima.  Or all the way to Nagano.  I'm being plenty flexible.

Finally, one company said they would have no problem getting me to Kansai.

And so, I packed my things, tearfully said goodbye, and moved to Shiga Prefecture, which is where the story actually begins...

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