Japanory

Ups and Downs of the School Run

On the way to school I noticed one of the large film screens around Shibuya station showing videos of one of my favourite bands – the Red Hot Chili Peppers. As I gazed at the screen a date flashed up and I realised with elation that they were coming to perform in Tokyo! I've been trying to see this band for nigh on 20 years but have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could it be possible that I finally get to see them? Oh, I LOVE my new home!

Now all I needed to do was find out how to speak Japanese and get some tickets. I decided to pass the task onto Tim who could ask his colleagues for help. I care not that he isn't a massive fan like me; we will go and see them if at all possible, and that is that.

I collect Rhiannon and we head home.

The school run is already dragging us down and Rhiannon is so tired at the end of the day that the walk to the station in Shibuya is a real chore. She insists on walking on all the building edges, up steps, down steps, around bollards and generally being a pain as all the time she insists on holding my hand which drags me around too. Then she complains about being tired and having achey legs. I'm not surprised; with all the to-ing and fro-ing she is walking ten times as far as she needs to.

She is also obsessed with all the vending machines and we have to stop at each one, of which there are many, to inspect the contents and hassle me for a drink. I counter this with a promise of something from the one nearest home as it is considered rude to drink and eat on the Metro. And so it continues as a whinging child and I enter the overcrowded Metro.

We are both completely frazzled by the time we get home, two hours after I left. There must be an easier way of doing the school run, but sadly I don't know what. Some people catch cabs, but this is an expensive option and besides, I tried this once and couldn't convey to the taxi driver where I wanted to go. But it is very tempting. Perhaps I should try and find a map.

Being Grumpy

It's amazing how cross and disgruntled this little job is making me! I haven't even got into the training room yet and I am already very grumpy about the work next week. It's only a few days over the next month so why am I getting so worked up about it?

Mainly I think it's because I spent an extremely intensive period doing the same line of work, for similar people, so I know what to expect. And also because I know that this will be very different as in my previous incarnation of 'IT Trainer', I never had to see the trainees again: this time Tim will be working with the people and we will both see them over the next four years. So I have to be nice to them...

One ray of light is, by some miracle, I found all my old training materials on an old portion of my hard drive so all I have to do is adapt them for these special courses. I am overjoyed as I thought all this work was on my old laptop which no longer functions as anything other than a large doorstop.

This took a weight off my mind so I started writing my first Tokyo Tales article instead.

I'd just got my creative flow going when an American woman who befriended me at the school door phoned for a chat. She's rather pushy but I'll give anyone a chance (and she is the only one who's spoken to me at school so far) so I arrange a playdate for our kids at the weekend. Somehow she stayed on the phone for over an hour even though I tried to get away.

My creative flow was completely washed away now, so I turned to another project.

Tim had mentioned someone at work who knew the owner of one of the English language papers and I should send in my CV. As my CV is so far out of date it's almost in a different century, this required some careful contemplation.

I got as far as changing my name and address when the computer crashed and wouldn't restart. Great. Just great.

OK. Now what?

Oh, time for the school run! It takes around two hours each way so this doesn't leave me much time during the day. Especially when an hour is wasted on the telephone.

“I’ve Got You a Job!”

10^th January 2007

These were Tim's opening words to me when he arrived home from work last night.

Yikes! I don't want a job. I already have a job and I certainly don't want to work in the same place as Tim. Not because I don't want to work with him as I've already done that in the past. What fills me with horror though is the idea of working for other people having been self-employed for more years than I was employed.

I'm speechless. But not for long as Tim explains the details further. It turns out that the office were about to contact London to send someone out to provide IT training to a few members of staff when Tim leapt in with "Oh, no need to call them, that's what Carole does!"

DID, not DOES!!

I gave up this work in 2001 when I was pregnant with Rhiannon and I had absolutely no intention of ever getting into it again. Admittedly it was extremely profitable and was a job I once loved, but towards the end of what had been many years running the same courses again and again, I was burnt out and unable to continue. I swore to myself I would never, ever do that work again. Never say never.

My blood ran cold and I started to protest. But Tim was so excited I had to hear him out. From the information he gave me, there was almost no way I could get out of this and agreed to see the people involved.

So into the office I went, with a heavy heart and tried to pretend I was all efficient and organised.

They were ecstatic at finding someone over here that was qualified to do this work. Everything was in place already, including the special systems knowledge I already had from my previous contract with them all those years ago.

In an effort to finally wriggle out of the work I quoted a very high price for my time.

They accepted and I was obligated.

Panic!

Because I had declared my intention never to do this job again, I had thrown out all my text books, notes and exercises in the UK just before moving here. I will have to rewrite everything in less than a week.

DOUBLE PANIC!! And a lot of swearing...

 

First Day of School

9th January 2007

Finally! I thought this day would never come, but here we are, getting ready for Rhiannon's first day at her new school.

Considering that she left her school in the UK nearly two months ago, and really enjoyed staying at home with Mum, she's surprisingly upbeat about going. Considering that Mum has had nearly two months of daughter NOT being at school, she's incredibly upbeat about the first day of term.

The uniform arrived in good time, having been ordered from the official school outlet in America (!) and we had to purchase a small backpack, lunchbox, snack-box and water bottle the previous weekend.

However, our five-year-old fashion-diva was most unimpressed with the uniform and declared it to be "baby's clothes". She has a point.

In the UK, primary schools mostly have "grown-up" uniforms for the girls of smart dresses. Here the first two years, Reception and Year 1, wear t-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, with a logo-embroidered sweatshirt which is almost impossible for a child to take off themselves. I suppose this is in line with other countries where "school" doesn't really start until the children are in their 7th year, and everything up to then is considered kindergarten.

I don't know. I just have to force my reluctant child into the unflattering and dull navy blue outfit in time for the daunting school run.

And then we're off. Hoofing up the road to the Metro for what we already know is an appalling and long trip to the school. I just hope I can remember the way!

Luckily, I do, but once at the school I don't remember the route to Rhiannon's new classroom and it takes a couple of wrong turnings before we finally find the correct room. And that is a long walk too.

We say our goodbyes, but then Rhiannon "had a moment " and became nervous, clingy and upset before being led away "to help get some pens out" by the wonderful, compassionate and capable teaching assistant, Miss Irene.

With great relief, yet feeling a little raw emotionally, I pushed my way through the crowds of mums greeting each other after the holidays, and finally found myself outside the school with nearly 6 hours all to myself.

What to do? For the first time in weeks I only have to please myself: I don't have to take anyone else's wants, needs or feelings into account and can do precisely what I want for a few hours.

Rather than trek home, I decide to explore the area today and see if I can finally get a grip on the location of the school in relation to the rest of the area. I've spent too long being lost around here and I need to remedy that. So I started with breakfast at Starbucks in Tower Records which was the only place open at 9am.

To my surprise, I soon discovered that nothing in Tokyo (apart from Starbucks) opens before 11am. OK, a few shops open at 10am, but mostly it is 11 or even midday! Well, that's going to solve one shopaholic's problem. I won't be able to go shopping just after dropping Rhiannon off at school and, as the shops compensate by staying open late in the evenings, I won't be able to shop then either as I will be Mum again. My wallet will thank me.

Somehow, I found my way to Tokyo Hands again and was gratified to find that at least this shop was open from 10am, so spent a good proportion of the day in there.

The hours went very quickly and I was soon back at the school ready for pick-up time and the long walk and ride home. Rhiannon had had a great day and, although tired, was happy to go back again, thank goodness!

A Very Expensive Lunch and Singing to the Fish...

We left the Palace as quickly as possible as we were all in desperate need of toilets!

Eventually we found them at an area decorated with several water sculptures and glorified fountains, which didn’t help our predicament while queueing for the loos. After answering the call of nature we played amongst them for a while and pondered what to do next.

It was lunchtime and we needed food. Tim mentioned a nice hotel he’d stayed in on a previous visit, so we headed there.

The New Otani was certainly spectacular, but we were unfortunately too late for lunch at most of the restaurants, of which there were many. After some lengthy searching over several floors, we discovered a Chinese restaurant that was prepared to serve us and we gratefully settled down. Mum has not eaten Chinese food for years after developing an allergy to monosodium glutamate, so we were a little apprehensive, and she just chose soup.

Rhiannon surprised us immensely by being extremely proficient at using chopsticks. She’s never held them before, but she was determined not to let that beat her and persevered with great success. We were amazed and proud of her tenacity.

The resultant bill was beyond astronomical and we made a note to eat there again only on extremely special occasions. I was already planning on choosing this hotel for our first wedding anniversary celebration!

After lunch we went into the extensive and beautiful gardens. Mum and I were delighted to see lots of lovely ladies dressed in stunningly gorgeous kimono daintily stepping over the rocks that traversed the ponds.

An enormous red jasper stone stood in splendour on one side of the garden. I adore stones, so   communed with this lovely old rock for a while. Then I spotted the most bizarre bonsai or miniature garden I have ever seen. It was an upended log studded with large toadstools. Amazing!

Mum was flagging a bit by now, so we didn't explore the whole garden and resolved to visit again at Easter when she returns.

Once again, Rhiannon insisted on singing to the Koi. I have no idea where this idea of hers came from, but it is very sweet. We have to keep our distance while she performs, but my camera has a zoom lens! Of course, the fish all gather around her expecting food: but she believes it is her “magic singing” bringing them to her.

 

To See the Emperor...

Chronological crisis again... let's go back to...

2nd January 2007

Stuck for something to do, we decided to join the crowds and visit the Emperor in his Palace!

The Imperial family here don’t meet the masses as our British Royal family do, but the masses are graciously permitted to go and see them in their Palace on two occasions each year: on the current Emperor’s birthday, 23rd December and also 2nd January, which is when we decided to venture there.

We caught the train and basically followed the multitudes along a long road bordering a rather strange field full of enormous bonsai trees. The trees were rigorously pruned into gloriously stylised shapes, just as traditional bonsai trees are, with one exception; these trees were a couple of metres high and laid out like an orchard.

Along the red-cone-lined route were gentlemen handing out Japanese flags and we were given one each. We thought we may be treated with suspicion being gaijin, but the atmosphere was incredibly friendly and happy.

Across the moat which is lined with huge, grey stones and through a magnificent set of doors.

We weren’t allowed to stop and take photos, as I discovered when I tried to snap a particularly beautiful view. I was gently, yet firmly moved along by the palace police. I still got the photo though! But it seemed to be OK to take photos as long as we kept moving.

There were set times for the Imperial family to appear at the window and we arrived with about 20 minutes to wait; which was lucky! The crowds seemed to be well controlled as the area in front of the palace didn’t get overfull and there was no disagreeable pushing and shoving.

I was rather disappointed with the lack of grandness the palace displayed. It appeared to be just two storeys high and surrounded by windows. But I later discovered that it had been rebuilt after being destroyed in World War 2 and was built to be earthquake-proof.

Over the loudspeakers came various speeches which, of course, were undecipherable to us. However, one particular speech seemed different to/from the rest. Spoken by a women with a soothing mellifluous voice the speech had the sound of a prayer. This feeling was emphasised by most of the crowd lowering their heads. It was the most relaxing and comforting sound I‘ve ever heard, and would love to know the words.

A sense of expectation was palpable.

From time to time the smartly attired palace guards would change position, which caused a ripple of anticipation throughout the crowd. 

Then, they appeared! At the window, Japan’s Imperial Family appeared at their window amidst happy cheers and much flag waving.

They waved and smiled for a while; the Emperor said a few words and then they all went back inside.

And that was it!