Thank You Lobby Kids, Wherever You Are

The rain falls over the city of Takatsuki. With it comes a cleansing of the streets and the water needed for the small rice paddies I’ve walked by a few times en route to a long day of training. Umbrellas of all colors are removed from the umbrella stands that sit outside of most apartment buildings and homes, extended for their journey and ready to be placed in the stands that await them outside of offices, shops and restaurants. It’s a dreary day. I watch the umbrellas float by down below from my hotel room window here on the 6th floor. My hotel is mocking me today. It is called, after all, the Sun Hotel Of course, it would figure that on my day off I would be met with gray skies and drizzles instead of the beaming sun we’ve had all weeks. This seemed to be a common occurrence back home. Some things don’t change no matter where in the world you are. Sigh.

But today was, rain or shine, indeed a day off. Sleeping in without worry of having to meet the group at an early hour in the lobby and not having to trek to training on crowded train cars was bliss. My body last night was in the act of loading the shotgun, raising the nose and sharpening the razorblades in a suicidal act of rebellion. Sleep and much of it was not only wonderful, it was a potential lifesaver. So this morning, no alarm, no wake up call, I yawned and stretched my way to life at 9am having enjoyed an eight-hour repose. I felt like a batter must feel after recharging. You know, if a battery had feelings. The floor was quiet. Everybody was sleeping the evening off. The others had spent the night drinking and gambling, I would learn, with Mr. Yellow losing nearly a hundred bucks to some Japanese bar card sharks. I did not want to be anti-social as I really enjoy the group I have been placed with. It could have been much worse, after all, as the whole lot of them could have been pricks. Not the case, though, and each of these fine folk would be people I’d be happy to hang around with outside of these tumultuous two weeks. I had been with them, and on the train cars pretty close to some of them, for the bulk of my waking hours these last four days and I needed some time to myself. I’m sure there will be other wild nights before training ends.

With everybody else combating his or her hangovers, I explored around the hotel. Mainly, I wanted to ensure I could find my way to the train station as tomorrow I would be doing so on my own. I had been mentally noting signs and shop along the way these last few days here in an effort to memorize my route. This proved to be successful as I found my way to the busy station within ten minutes. Slightly at ease, trying to put the failed hunt for the internet café behind me, I decided to mingle with some of the more interesting stores I had passed. The streets are very narrow and the stores sit practically on top of traffic. I wonder how many times shopkeepers have to fix their outside displays because one of those little cars knocked them over? I passed some loud arcades and remembered the small one my father would shuffle us off to, quarters in hand, when he wanted a break. That Bubble Bobble machine must have cleared a grand off my brother and I alone. You won’t find arcades back home anymore. They are not needed in this age where everybody has an arcade in their house in the form of a small box. I didn’t think Japan of all places would still have them. Are they not the forerunners of the video gaming industry? If games systems were so prominent in the homes of Western kids you’d assume Japanese children have about seven. I have seen them on subways and trains and bus stops with eyes fixed on their DS systems or cell phones. But still the arcade was packed and loud and maybe one day I will walk in if I fee the urge to have my senses assaulted. I found a Y100 Shop, the equivalent to our dollar stores, and picked up a few items I thought I’d need for teaching (scissors, tape, etc.). Wandered a video game store just to see some of the stuff that doesn’t exist in Canada yet. It nearly made me want to get back into playing video games…nearly. I also walked by a few of the Pachinko parlors, Japanese biggest gambling addiction. Even in the morning the place was full of people wanted to lose their money. I wonder what would happen if you planted some of these folks down in Vegas?

For lunch I found another one of these vending machine at the door places. This one took the guesswork out of ordering as not only did it have the photos on the machine like the other one did but it also had English translation. I choose a pork and ginger set (combos here are called a “set”) and was amazed by the amount of food I was served for the small amount of money I had spent. Pork and ginger stir-fry with a salad, some soup, a large bowl of rice and, of course, the hot tea. It has been my experience that you always get a free tea with your order and a hot towel or napkin to wash and dab when you are through. Two little quirks I love because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t want a free drink and a hot napkin with every meal? Come on! Hot freakin’ napkin!

Chopsticks and me are not getting along but we are getting closer. This particular place did not regular tables but a large bar seating area where patrons sat in a circle. An old man across from me hid a grin as I fumbled to pick up rice with these two sticks. The key is to rest on between your thumb and pointer finger but this area of my hand just rejects having anything put there. The chopstick keeps slipping out. I thought about using the tape I had purchased at the dollar store but I wouldn’t want the old man dying from his uncontrollable fit of giggles and guffaws. That grinning bastard should have been glad I was looking out for his well being and not for my grumbling stomach. I’ve developed a shoveling method of getting the food in which seems to be working. I take both sticks, hold up the bowl of rice to my mouth, load, push and swallow. It don’t look pretty but, hey, I’m eating. As I said, though, I am getting there and I managed well with the pork and salad. Thin noodles are the hardest things to nab with the chopsticks. Red, if you’re out there, I needed a longer lesson that day with the Pho!

The rest of the morning and into the afternoon was spent planning my first lesson. On the first day the trainer tossed a heavy box of wonders into my arms. Inside were text books, a song and games book and various other goodies used by the Company for Native Teachers (all none Japanese teachers are called Native Teachers) to follow and use as guidelines. My room was quickly a disaster scene of papers and open books and cardboard shavings and stickers and crumpled tape and empty coffee cups. I was kicking my brain into gear and it feels nice to have to use it on the job as opposed to it lying comatose in many other past working environments. Rogers, I’m looking at you! Planning these lessons was mind rejuvenation! Tomorrow, as mentioned, I will be heading out alone to a school near Kyoto where I will meet a group of five-year-olds and, later, teach a second lesson to 7-year-olds. My mind is still swimming with information, I’ve never had to teach so many children before and I am not sure I’ve the entire curriculum down but I feel I will do alright. Three Japanese kids unknowingly told me so.

It was Wednesday evening. I was sitting in the comfortable, although slightly worn, black leather chairs in the hotel lobby. I was nursing my second cup of coffee and working my way to a third. The poor desk clerk had to put on another pot for this Nighthawk. Flakes of the chocolate pastry I purchased at a shop a block away snowed down on my laptop keyboard and I swept them away before they slipped through the cracks between the keys. Outside the street neon flickered and blinked in the window reflection and in my tangled state of mind it was hard to stop looking at it, hypnotized. In that moment of exhaustion that light could very well be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen the way I keep looking up at it. Our hotel is in a red light district…a big flashing neon red light. Strip clubs and those gambling parlors line the walkways and cheap 24 hour joints cater to the men who sadly slither out, away from the girls and machines, their pockets empty except for a few coins to spare for a cup of lukewarm coffee, a day old donut and the train ride home. Those who cannot afford their way (or maybe are too sake filled to even attempt the rail line confusions) stagger into the hotel where they can find a warm bed to sleep off the night. A woman with torn panty hose and running mascara clicked and clacked across the linoleum towards elevator. The doors closed and she was gone, lost to a life I will never see. Her perfume remained like a ghostly essence.

Connected to the hotel lobby is a small restaurant and trinkets shop from which three children emerged. Two were girls, one was an energetic (genki is the word used here) boy. They noticed me right away but did not come over at first. When I would look up at them they would giggle and run back into the lounge. We were told in training that most Japanese children have never seen somebody that was not Japanese and shyness and sometimes fear will take them over in the presence of somebody unlike the people they are used to. I did not motion for the kids to come over. Only smiled and made eye contact quickly before returning to whatever it was I was doing. I figured they would eventually come on over and it wasn’t long before they did. The small boy actually plunked himself down on my lap smiling and saying something in Japanese. I told him in the little Japanese I knew that I did not understand him and asked him if he could speak English. He started to sing “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” and at the final word of the song “nose” he gave mine a good honk and would not let go. The girl laughed. I pulled his fingers away making a uncorking noise and he laughed wildly. The hotel desk clerks, who had been eyeing the situation, laughed to themselves. I told them my name and where I was from and because I had the computer with me I was able to show them pictures of Canada. They crowded around the laptop and were very interested. I decided to swing some of my training into motion and I showed the kids Pokemon online but used their colors to get them to say things in English. I managed to get their ages in English. The boy was 6 and the girls were 9 and 11. The boy kept grabbing my nose and I kept making the sound and he kept laughing but he would run away every five minutes back into the restaurant and come back and ask me a question I didn’t know how to answer so I would say just about anything and he would run back. I figured he was talking to his parents about me. Sure enough, him and the two girls dragged their mother out away from her meal and into the hotel lobby to meet me. Here English was pretty good and now I had a translator. She told me the boy was asking me about Canadian coins. I showed him some pictures online. The boy at one point poured me a coffee. Wow, how’s that for service! I realized I had some coins left upstairs and I went to get them. The kids tried to follow me into the elevator but the mother held them back. I returned to the lobby and laid out the Canadian coins and some of the American I had left from my stint in Detroit. The kids had some Japanese coins and I showed them the difference between the coins and had them count the amount each were worth in another mock lesson in a test of my educator skills. They children and mother both looked like they were having a great time and I let the kids take one coin as a present. The boy and young girl too Canadian coins because they had the animals on them and the older girl took an American coin with Lincoln on it. I think she had a thing for tall men with large moles! Their father came out ready to go and both parents bowed low in thanks. That felt really good. Before the boy left he grabbed my nose and I said: “Okay, one more time”. Pop, went the cork noise and all three kids and their folks laughed. I did too. They said goodbye and thanked me again but I realized, sitting alone in the lobby again, my coffee now cold, that I should have thanked them. Although I hadn’t been overly nervous about teaching children I will admit that there was some internal tension on whether or not I good do it successfully and actually instruct these kids who wouldn’t understand all I said and I couldn’t understand almost anything they said. These lobby kids that night gave me a huge burst of confidence in myself. Yes, I think I can do this. Tomorrow we will find out!