By Kirsten Phillips (Niigata-ken, 2005-08)
My first year in Japan schooled me.
Learn how to suck it up, you soft American pansy. This is Nippon and we don’t care if your carcass is rotting and your soul is spiraling rapidly towards damnation. We will smile and hand you the five letter dirty word: G-A-M-A-N. Now get your sorry ass into that tanmoku of 40 revved up first years or we will not be amused.
Going in to work sick is a part of life. You popped your meds, filled your water bottle and dragged your dead weight to class. Some days you just don’t have the juice to perform. When you haven’t seen the sun for 3 straight months and Kocho thinks its a swell idea to keep the heaters turned off in January to save money, you sometimes have to look under the couch of your soul and hope to scrape up some change in order to get through the day.
Nonetheless, sick is sick.
I only ever got heinously ill once in Japan. Heinous enough to see a Japanese doctor, that is. The guy was curt, handed me a vast array of medicines that I had no use for (粉薬! GAG ME!) but generally I never understood a word he said. In fact, the only time I ever understood him was when he asked about my allergies.
“I think I’m allergic to iodine.” I said in my pidgin Japanese.
“Oh.” The doc smiled. “Well, in that case you better hope we never have a nuclear event.”
“Why?”
“We are required to dose the entire town with iodine to ward off radiation poisoning. However, as you are allergic…大変ですね.”
Ah yes, the honor of perishing in slow agony.
So my ancient country medicine man was a ray of sunshine. I was fortunate enough in Japan to never require the services of a doctor who actually spoke my language. For that, I’d have to blow fare on the shink and hie myself to Osaka or Tokyo.
As in most countries, a cold or flu is not worth arguing the byokyu/nenkyu debate. It’s a famous battle with consequences that range from JETS picking up and leaving to shattered relations with entire B.O.E’s. In fact, one not too far away actually did away with all of their government JETS and went private. If you wish to show solidarity (and in Japan, it is prudent to do so), you take nenkyuu when you are ill. Byo-kyuu in Japan exisits , I think, for purely legal reasons. It’s a paper moon of a clause, there to appease the Geneva convention or some humanitarian ethics committee. It may be that other professions in Japan may employ it without guilt or shame but teachers? Nah-uh. They do not get off the hook. ALT’s, however, are a strange breed. How (and if) we use byo-kyuu will shape our reputations. Some of us find this out the hard way.
The only time I actually demanded byo-kyu from my supervisor, she sucked her teeth so loud I think she inhaled a gnat. I had caught bronchitis and my voice was on the blink. As I am an ALT and not paid to mime, once your voice is gone you pretty much get labeled unfit to work.
“Is there anything wrong with your body?” My supervisor inquired.
“I’m sick.” I whispered painfully.
“Yes, but is anything wrong with your body?”
These were the kinds of questions my painful supervisor asked me. How does one whip out a flow chart/power point presentation of woe over the phone? Fortunately, she attempted to clarify.
“Because if there is nothing wrong with your body, you should go to the school. Just go and sit in the teacher’s room. That is professional.”
I forgot. Japan likes to watch people suffer. It’s noble and it’s beautiful…for everyone fucking else.
I could stay at home and feel like crap or I could sit in the kyumushitsu for 6 hours and feel resentful and like even more crap. It sounded like an offer I couldn’t refuse so I polished up my keigo and rang up my guest school for that day. Kyoto sensei #9 picked up.
“Kirsten, good morning. How are you?”
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling well today however I was told by my supervisor to come in so if you’ll let me know the schedule–”
“Excuse me Miss Kirsten but I cannot hear you well. Is your voice ok? Did Painful Supervisor tell you to come in? Really? That is ridiculous. I think you should stay home. Your health is important”
Word to the wise, new and perky ALTs: Get real friendly with your Kyoto. Drink with him. Learn his favorite color. Request his favorite song at the next enkai. Buy him extra special omiyage. Become best friends. How he feels about you may make or break your time in Japan.
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