Mel Maghuyop and Manna Nichols in rehearsals for ‘Tokio Confidential,’ playing Feb. 5-19 at the Atlantic Theater Stage 2. (Philip Smith)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his Japanese culture page here for related stories.

Words, music and the history of the world collide next week with the new theatrical presentation of Tokio Confidential at Atlantic Theater Stage 2 from Feb. 5-19 and Our Planet at Japan Society for one night only on Feb. 6.

A new musical penned entirely by Eric Schorr and helmed by Joanna McKeon (the associate director of the Broadway and national tour editions of Green Day’s American Idiot), Tokio Confidential (a Richard Rogers Award finalist) is set in 1879 the hidden pleasure quarters of Meiji era Japan.

Isabella Archer, a young American war widow, crosses an ocean in search of a lost love—and is about to cross a line from which she can never return. When Isabella falls in love with a renowned Japanese tattoo artist, she enters a world of extreme beauty, becoming an object of unexpected desire—in a realm of unspeakable danger. It’s a journey across the boundaries between pleasure and pain, art and artifice, the secrets of the flesh and the sins of the heart.

How to Pass Your Love of Japan onto Your Kids

By Jessica Kennett Cork (CIR, 1997-2000, Hiroshima-ken)

(Note:  Click here to join the JET Alumni Parents Facebook group.)

My kids (7, 5, 2 and 4 months) are the only blond-haired kids in their school.  My two oldest know the names of all the Pokémon characters in both English and Japanese. My toddler can sing the Totoro and Anpanman theme songs in Japanese.

No, we don’t live in Japan. We live in a suburb of Atlanta.  But I knew that even though we live in the United States, I wanted to share my love of Japan with my kids.  I don’t want to “force” Japan on them, and it is fine with me if their future careers have nothing to do with Japan. But at the same time, I want for them to appreciate our family’s adopted culture, and to understand that since I met their dad in a Japanese class in college, they wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Japan.

And so I decided to enroll them in Japanese/English bilingual immersion school. We’re lucky to have several here in Atlanta: two daycare centers and one elementary school. Almost all the other kids in the school are full Japanese or half Japanese, so it is not always easy on my blondies.  The elementary school is Japanese Ministry of Education approved, which means homework every day, even during summer vacation, and lots of parental involvement expected from the PTA.  Not to mention the pressure to come up with a decent o-bento for lunch. My seven year old often wonder why his o-bento doesn’t have cute rabbits made out of apples and carrot flowers. But at the same time, he got to pound rice for New Year’s, grow tomatoes and morning glories as part of his life skills class, has mandatory music and art class, and can use chopsticks better than I can.

But what I love most about the school is the global perspective he is learning. Take Social Studies class. The class is taught on some days in English using an American textbook and on other days in Japanese using a Japanese textbook. Imagine the discussion the kids will have when covering World War II.  My kids are native English speakers, so obviously English class is easier for them, but sometimes they really struggle with Japanese.  When they see the native Japanese speakers struggling in English class, they understand how the Japanese kids feel and they help them out. They realize that everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and if we help each other out, we can all reach the same goal. They are also learning that even if the Japanese kids know more words than they do, they don’t necessary know more kanji. My oldest son takes great pride in beating the Japanese kids on kanji tests!

If you are lucky enough to have a school with a bilingual immersion program in your area, I encourage you to consider it. It can be a bit daunting at first, and you may be concerned about what effect it will have on your child to perhaps be the only non-Japanese in the school. But the benefits to your child far outweigh the negatives, and once your child begins to speak and understand Japanese more fluently, things get easier.

If you do not have such a school near you, I encourage you to seek other options. Many large cities throughout the United States have Japanese Saturday schools. While these are primarily for Japanese kids who are attending local English-only public schools to keep up with their Japanese, anyone is welcome to attend. You can get information on the Saturday schools from your local Japanese Consulate. Another idea is to hire Japanese nanny for your child, either full time or after school.  Many Japanese wives of expatriate businessmen are interested in this type of work since it does not require a high level of English. Advertise in your local Japanese newspaper or put up an ad at an Asian grocery store or Japanese owned restaurant. You could also start a playgroup of parents who want to teach their kids Japanese and invite local Japanese parents who want to teach their kids English. And you can ask your local Japan-America Society or JETAA chapter to plan kid-friendly events so that you will get to know the other Japanese parents in the area.

I didn’t start studying Japanese until college, and there was so much to learn in just four short years. I remember hours of cramming to try to remember 50 kanji per week, which were promptly forgotten to make room for the next 50 kanji required on the subsequent test. I’m glad my kids have the opportunity to take it slow and truly master a foreign language. And I love it when my son says to me, “Kanji is my favorite thing to study at school.”

Tsurugajo Castle in Aizuwakamatsu City.

By Kris Gravender (Fukushima-ken, 2002-06) for JQ magazine. Kris was one of eight American JET alums selected for the Tohoku Invitational Program sponsored by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Japan Tourism Agency. This article was originally printed in the Oct. 21, 2011 issue of Chicago’s bilingual newspaper Chicago Shimpo.

What could I do? What could I really do? I was fighting the urge to return to Aizu simply because I knew the possibility for contracting some kind of cancer, but I felt I just had to do something. When the earthquake hit we knew it was bad, but the tsunami made everything worse. Then, to top it all off, Fukushima was becoming a “nuclear wasteland,” according to the news reports we were getting, and there was nothing we could do for the place we love.

My wife, being from Aizu, was distraught for weeks. She called her family, friends she hadn’t talked to in years, and even the local International Association, to get as much news as possible. Her aunt and uncle live in Sendai, and there was no communication from them, not to mention that her brother is a police officer and was being sent into the radiation zone to assist with evacuations. Eventually we were told everyone was safe and healthy, and yet this didn’t do much to make us feel better. We donated money, clothes, and food to the Red Cross, but it just didn’t seem to be enough to make us feel like we were helping.

Then I heard from a friend about a program the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was sponsoring for JET alums to return to their hometowns and tour, as long as they communicated with the outside world about what they saw, felt, and experienced. It was almost as if God was trying to tell me, “Here’s your chance.”  My wife and I talked about it for days: If I go, what kinds of problems would I face; what would I do while I was there; could I go into the zone for just a couple of hours to see for myself what was happening; and a whole list of questions and ideas. No matter what the answers became, I knew I had to go.

The good news was that the Ministry was very open to whatever needed to be accomplished. Their objective for this program was to allow JET alums (who were there for longer than a year) to return to the areas they lived, tour around their “hometowns,” talk to friends and/or family to make sure everyone was all right, and generally see for themselves how the country was handling the devastation. Their only request, other than to stay in a hotel and keep track of what money we spent, was to document our time by social media, YouTube, Twitter, or any other internet-based form. I believe their hope was to show the international community that what we had been seeing on the news is not exactly the whole story.

I was selected as one of only 18 participants from the thousands of JETs who have participated over the years and was sent back to my second hometown of Aizu, in the western third of Fukushima Prefecture. After spending a night in Tokyo and meeting with a Ministry of Foreign Affairs representative the next day, I boarded the Tohoku Shinkansen and headed for Koriyama, which is in the central section of Fukushima; only 40 miles or so from the nuclear reactor. Along the way, I noticed how much greenery there was in the area on the way into Fukushima. It was the first week of August, so the rice fields were a healthy dark green, and as the buildings started to become less prevalent and the nature started to take over, I knew I was heading home.

Upon arrival in Koriyama I quickly changed trains and headed for Aizu. The symbol of Aizu, the red bull called Akabeko, stared at me from the walls of Koriyama Station, and followed me in the train all the way to the city of Aizuwakamatsu. The first thing I noticed when I arrived in Aizu was the general lack of change. For an area that was supposedly in decline due to the lack of economy, Aizu seemed to have been unaffected by it. Leaving Wakamatsu Station was still difficult thanks to the number of cars and buses trying to exit at the same place, and the traffic from the station to my hotel, which was about a 10 minute drive, was full of cars, bicycles, and people walking. In other words, it was a typical Monday in Aizu, showing no ill effects of the troubles on the coast.

And yet, there was something wrong. It took me a little bit, but I finally noticed there were no tourists during the busiest tourism season of the year. No groups of school kids on their field trips to study the past; no busloads of the elderly coming to use the spacious onsens; and no families spending their children’s summer vacation time checking out the gorgeous Aizu nature. In that manner, for the first time I had ever seen, Aizu was empty.

I had found my calling: I understood why I was chosen. Aizu’s main industry is tourism: over 40 percent of the area’s income stems from the travelers that visit throughout the year. However, due to the media’s characterization of Fukushima as a slow death by nuclear radiation (even though the mayor himself had used a meter and taken negative readings at multiple places in the city), no one was coming.

In order to do what I could for my second hometown, I spent the next few days walking around an area of Japan where I lived for six years, seeing places I had not seen before, and revisiting those I had. My goal was to document my trip by Flip video camera; a simple way to upload video to websites like YouTube and Facebook. As of this moment, my group on Facebook called The Aizu Experience has over 200 members, all of whom have seen most of the videos I created.

My earnest wish, at this moment, is for more people to see the videos and know that I was there, saw one of the most beautiful areas of the world, and lived through it. I ate the food, drank the water, had some sake, and have had no health problems since. No matter what we hear from government, media, or other opinionated “experts,” Aizu is alive and thriving, and still one of the best places to visit in the world. If you don’t believe me, look at my Facebook group, my videos on YouTube, or, better yet, go to Aizu and see for yourself. You will be welcomed in my hometown.

 To watch videos from Kris’ experience, visit the YouTube Channel AllforAizu. Visit The Aizu Experience on Facebook here.

"The wintertime beauty of the Tonomine highlands in Hyogo prefecture is a sadly haunting visual expression of Naoko’s isolation and loss of life. One only wishes the characters were as compelling as the landscape in which they find themselves."

By Lyle Sylvander (Yokohama-shi, 2001-02) for JQ magazine. Lyle is entering a master’s program at the School of International and Public Affairs at Columbia University (MIA 2013) and has been writing for the JET Alumni Association since 2004. He is also the goalkeeper for FC Japan, a New York City-based soccer team.

Haruki Murakami’s novel Norwegian Wood 「ノルウェイの森」 was published in Japan in 1987 and propelled the author to superstar status, especially among the nation’s youth. The novel was also an international success and the first English translation (there were eventually two) introduced Murakami to the U.S.

Unlike his other well-known works, such as Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Norwegian Wood eschews surreal and Kafkaesque sensibilities in favor of a more nostalgically sentimental narrative. It tells the story of love and loss from the vantage point of its 37-year-old protagonist, Toru Watanabe, looking back on his youth as a student during the 1960s.

As in Europe and the U.S., Japan at that time was a society in flux and the establishment was being challenged by idealistic student movements. Against this backdrop, Toru falls in love with the emotionally troubled and fragile Naoko, who sinks into a deep depression after the suicide of their mutual friend Kizuki. She leaves the university for a mountainous sanitarium and during her absence, Toru has a love affair with Midori. Eventually, Naoko succumbs to the darker nature of her illness and commits suicide, sending Toru into an emotional period of bereavement, after which he can commit emotionally to Midori and continue on with his life.

The film version retains Murakami’s plot while dispensing with the flashback framework. Toru (Kenichi Matsuyama) narrates the film from some unspecified point in the future but the story unfolds in real time without the illuminating knowledge that hindsight and age allow. Unfortunately, Toru’s coming-of-age tale lacks emotional depth and one feels that a stronger film could have been made from the novel.

Curiously, the film is written and directed by the French-Vietnamese filmmaker Tran Ahn Hung, most famous for The Scent of Green Papaya (1993). That earlier film was notable for its poetic visuals and subtly contemplative atmosphere—a tradition inherited from modernist European filmmakers that continues today in the work of certain  Asian auteurs, such as Thailand’s Apachitpong Weerasthakural.

Hung seems a strange choice for Norwegian Wood and his style is at odds with the emotional undercurrents of the story. Actresses Rinko Kikuchi (Naoko) and Kiko Mizuhara (Midori) perform their roles well but one can almost feel the director’s hand in restraining the full range of emotions in the characters’ roles. Matsuyama’s performance, however, is shallow and distant and often relies on voice-over narration to reveal his inner emotions. Hung’s script is also streamlined and expository, documenting events as they happened without illuminating them.

On the positive side, Hung and his cinematographer Mark Lee Ping Bin have shot a beautiful film and make full use of the P2 digital format. Sunsets, snowfalls, oceans and wide expanding forests are all shot with exquisite detail. Hung is also a master of mise-en-scène, constructing his images meticulously and blocking his actors expertly within the frame. The wintertime beauty of the Tonomine highlands in Hyogo prefecture is a sadly haunting visual expression of Naoko’s isolation and loss of life. One only wishes the characters were as compelling as the landscape in which they find themselves.

Norwegian Wood is now playing at New York’s IFC Center through Jan. 24. For more information, click here. For additional U.S. screenings, visit the film’s homepage at www.norwegianwoodmovie.com.

Author Roland Kelts and musician Keiko Matsui join Akiko Yano and Ian Buruma for The Global Salon: Cities in Japan at The Greene Space on Jan. 19. (Kaz, Bobby Quillard)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his Japanese culture page here for related stories.

JET alum and half Japanese American writer, editor and lecturer Roland Kelts (Osaka-shi, 1998-99) will appear with acclaimed musicians and writers connected to Japan for an intimate talk and performance called The Global Salon: Cities in Japan at The Greene Space in New York on Jan. 19.

Kelts, who lives half of each year in Tokyo and New York, is the author of Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture has Invaded the U.S. and writes about contemporary Japan for several publications in the U.S. and Japan. He is a frequent commentator on Japan for National Public Radio and the BBC.

Hosted by WNYC News host Eddie Robinson and presented in cooperation with the Consulate General of Japan, The Global Salon: Cities in Japan presents compelling stories of courage and resiliency, while the country continues to face unprecedented hardships of increased suicidal rates and unemployment, before and after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami. Robinson will engage the audience and esteemed guests through captivating dialogue and enchanting musical themes about the country’s economic future, advances in technology, and the preservation of its remarkable culture.

For the complete story, click here.

Thanks to Vancouver-based JET alum Alison Dacia Brown (Iwate-ken, Rikuzentakata-shi, 2005-08) for sharing this article she wrote with JETwit, which also appears (with photos) on page 8 of the latest issue of the JETAA British Columbia Newsletter.  It is a follow-up to a previous article she wrote titled “Rikuzentakata.”

Rikuzentakata, Iwate:  9 months after the tsunami 

The last article I wrote for JETAABC was just a few weeks after the tragedy happened.  I lived in Rikuzentakata, a small city in Iwate prefecture on the coast, whose location and landscape could not have been worse on March 11th.   Over nine months has passed, and even though Rikuzentakata, or Takata for short, is far from being fully healed, it’s unbelievable what has been accomplished to make the city liveable again in such a short period of time.

Temporary housing has been built. Grass has begun to grow again.  Debris has been cleared.  The Tanabata festival has been celebrated.  A Lawson has been opened. Possessions have been returned to their owners.  Possessions thought to have been lost forever.  As an example of this, could you imagine losing your home and possessions and barely escaping with your child and a few clothes?  Could you imagine the happiness you would feel when a volunteer is able to give you a memory card with pictures on it you thought were lost forever?  There was one volunteer department responsible for this ‘Photo Recovery Project’.  In an online video, I smiled when I saw those blue laundry hangers with the clips holding photos that had been recovered and carefully cleaned.

I was devastated when I saw the images of the destruction in the days that followed the tragedy.  What was worse was seeing a video taken of the city from a helicopter.  It wasn’t just destruction; it looked apocalyptic.  I recognized about three buildings which were some of the biggest:  The Capital Hotel, City Hall and the building that housed Daiso and the town supermarket, Maiya.  Even though they were spared from the waves which swept mostly everything away, they seemed to stand there like ruins, completely gutted from the inside.  In the days that followed, a closer look at these buildings showed trapped trees, cars, and probably people which were swept into their paths.  Boats on top of buildings seemed commonplace.

I keep in regular contact with my friends in Rikuzentakata and Ofunato, the city next door.  In addition, I do some volunteer editing on the Save Takata website.  I feel like doing all these things is keeping my spirits up.  What also keeps my spirits up is hearing all the stories about my town from volunteers and friends.  The day-to-day activities that show that life really does go on are amazing.  One of humankind’s best qualities is the ability to adapt, and the residents of Rikuzentakata have certainly adapted and carried on.  Enzo Caffarelli, a good friend and former ALT from Takata, has since returned with the volunteer group All Hands.  I remember messaging him back and forth on Facebook after he arrived and he told me was doing some work at a rice harvest cooperative, and being managed by a dirty old Japanese man who loved women and sexual innuendos.  Awesome.

In addition to cleaning ditches and digging canals, he was able to do some salvage work for a friend of ours who was the art teacher at the local high school.  He was able to find pieces of art, photos, slides and documents which made her very happy.  Another project he helped with was in making a local cemetery accessible again.  Stones had been toppled and the paths had been uncut for months.  He said it was great to see people coming back to visit their ancestors.

A new ‘Takata’ has appeared outside of the central town which houses many of the businesses and public buildings that were destroyed in March.  This new Takata now has our post office, city hall, a Lawson, a couple of bars, an AU shop, among others.  This sleepy area has now had to absorb new migration from the disaster zone.  Makeshift laundry shops and hair salons have popped up to service the people who live nearby in temporary housing settlements.  In the neighbouring town of Senmaya, Takata’s sake brewery has been reopened.

• PDF:  http://www.jetaabc.ca/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/NewsletterV16N3.pdf
• Online viewer version on Issuu.com at http://issuu.com/jetaabc/docs/newsletterv16n3

Article link:  http://www.clair.or.jp/j/forum/forum/pdf_267/10_jet02.pdf

Here’s an excerpt:

“I was authorized to chair a special committee of the top Japan experts from the State, Defense, Treasury, the CIA, Commerce and USTR. Each agency would designate its own representative. When we first gathered in the Old Executive Office Building and introduced ourselves, we came to an intriguing realization. Every official around the room but one had either been an MEF, a JET or a Mansfield Fellow. We had lived in small towns and cities all across Japan. We could have conducted the entire meeting in Japanese.”

Studio Ghibli's 'The Secret World of Arrietty' premieres in New York Jan. 21. (GNDHDDTW)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his page here for related stories.

Co-written by anime legend Hayao Miyazaki and directed by Miyazaki protégé Hiromasa Yonebayashi, the New York International Children’s Film Festival will present a special one-time advance screening of Studio Ghibli’s new film The Secret World of Arrietty on Jan. 21 at Symphony Space, nearly a whole month ahead of its wide release on Feb. 17. The news comes just as the massive 15-film Studio Ghibli Festival (which broke box office records by grossing over $150,000 to date at the IFC Center) wraps up Jan. 12.

Originally released in Japan in July 2010 and based on Mary Norton’s classic children’s book The Borrowers, the film is a beautiful story about friendship, family and love, sumptuously animated with all the loving detail, warmth and humanity expected from Studio Ghibli’s finest works.

Arrietty (voice of Bridgit Mendler), a tiny but tenacious 14-year-old, lives with her parents (voices of Will Arnett and Amy Poehler) in the recesses of a suburban garden home, unbeknownst to the homeowner and her housekeeper (voice of Carol Burnett). Like all little people, Arrietty remains hidden from view, except during occasional covert ventures beyond the floorboards to “borrow” scrap supplies like sugar cubes from her human hosts.

For the complete story, click here.

Kathryn Hunter, Clive Mendus, Glyn Pritchard and Hideki Noda star in Hideki Noda's 'THE BEE' at Japan Society Jan. 5-15. (Julie Lemberger)

By JQ magazine editor Justin Tedaldi (CIR Kobe-shi, 2001-02) for Examiner.com. Visit his page here for related stories.

As part of this year’s Under the Radar Festival, Japan Society kicks off the new year with a nine-day stage run of Hot Pepper, Air Conditioner, and the Farewell Speech and THE BEE now through Jan. 14 and 15.

Under the Radar is an annual theater festival that spotlights international artists ranging from emerging talents to masters in the field. The festival is a wild mix of works by ensembles, solo artists, writers and creators, offering a crash course in theater created by some of the most dynamic artists working today. In its seven year history, there have been 104 productions from over 17 countries.

“It means a lot for us to be able to present both Hideki Nodaʼs THE BEE and Toshiki Okadaʼs chelfitsch Theater Company in our first time participating in the Under the Radar Festival,” said Japan Society’s artistic director Yoko Shioya. “These shows truly illustrate whatʼs going on in Japanese experimental contemporary theater.”

For the complete story, click here.

"I would like the duration of stay in this project extended as long as possible. Hopefully, this project will revolutionize Japanese English education just as the JET Program has changed the landscape of English language education in Japan."

By Sierra Soleil (Fukushima-ken, 2000-02) for JQ magazine. Sierra works at an ESL school in Manhattan. He enjoys teaching, writing, and riding his bike.

It’s been called the “Reverse JET Program,” which is a lot catchier than the Japan-U.S. Training and Exchange Program for English Language Teachers (JUSTE Program). A few of the East Coast JUSTE teachers made a special public appearance at the JETAANY Welcome Back Reception in November, and since then there has been some talk about exactly what this program is, and what these teachers are up to.

Recently, Kazumoto “Kaz” Takechi, a JUSTE participant at Rutgers University in New Jersey, took some time out of his busy schedule to answer a few questions about his experience as a Reverse JET. Spoiler alert: the program is very new, and its future is not assured, especially with the budget restrictions caused by the problems in Fukushima. However, if Kaz’s attitude is at all typical of the other participants, JUSTE could be every bit as much of a game-changer as JET was.

Kaz got his MA in English education from Naruto University of Teacher Education in 2002, and works at Ishii Junior High School in Tokushima, Shikoku. He was nominated by the program as one of 96 Japanese teachers of English to spend six months in the U.S. through January of this year, and is the only JUSTE teacher from Tokushima. Before he got to my questions, Kaz started with a shout-out to his former ALTs:

“All of my ALTs have been great partners in the classroom. I am a very lucky teacher because I have met very wonderful ALTs during my nine years as an English teacher. I am really glad to participate in this article for ALTs.”

Where did the idea come from to send teachers to the U.S. in order to improve English education in Japan?

According to the Foreign Ministry Advance Institute Workshop held at Tokyo in May 2010, both Japan and the United States agree that the two countries need to foster mutual understanding at the citizen level in order to sustain and strengthen the Japan-U.S. alliance. Based on this agreement, a summit conference between Japan and the U.S. was held in Yokohama on November 13, 2010. Details on how to strength our relationships were finalized during this conference. The JUSTE project is a direct outcome of this conference. The Ministry of Education further defined that the JUSTE project had two objectives. One is to foster and develop the English communicative skills of Japanese English teachers. The other is to develop Japanese English teacher pedagogical skills through TESOL classes offered at U.S. institutions.

Has this idea been around for a long time, or was it a recent initiative?

The Ambassador Plenipotentiary has wished that this project take motion for some time. He has consistently envisioned the necessity to give Japanese English teachers the opportunity to seek professional development, in English speaking countries such as the U.S., after they become certified English teachers in Japan. He has consistently suggested this to the government, and thanks to his wonderful efforts this project has finally materialized.

How would you assess the progress so far?

At this juncture, I am focusing on developing the skill sets that will contribute to the professional development of Japanese English teachers and ALTs when I return to Japan. I will be presenting to the English language teacher community as well as conducting demonstration lessons to assist in their professional development. Moreover, I will also write some articles about my experience in this project. Hopefully, I will inspire other English teachers and muster support for this project among supervisors and English language teachers. This is a challenge I am embarking on, but I have conviction that my actions will positively influence other English teachers and the future of Japanese English education.

Is the JUSTE Program intended to address problems or weaknesses with the JET Program?

No, it is not. I have no reason to believe so.

What are the prospects for the next few years? What strengths would you like to build upon? What improvements or adjustments would you like to make?

The strengths of Japanese English teachers are their learning experiences as non-native speakers of English. As such, it is vital that we incorporate our effective learning experience pedagogically while also sharing the feelings and constraints that come along with our strengths.

What will the participating teachers do after they return to Japan? Will they go back to teaching, train other teachers, or is there some other plan for them?

Yes, participating teachers will be presenting as well as training other teachers. There could also be other tasks expected of them. We don’t know for sure.

I have heard that the participating teachers are in a so-called social media blackout. Is that accurate? If so, is there a specific reason for it?

Although I was chosen as a member of the project prior to the earthquake and Fukushima disaster, nevertheless it is critical that we remain sensitive that it is a time of sobriety in Japan.

Because of what happened in Fukushima, all of us thought this project would be postponed because the Japanese government needs funding to restore and support Fukushima and its surrounding prefectures. Therefore, all of us understand the weight of this project and its significance for the people of Japan. This project is funded through taxes. Therefore, if some of us post fun pictures on social media websites such as Facebook, we may provoke unnecessary unrest and criticism from the Japanese people for our insensitivity—a picture speaks a thousand words. To make a long story short, I completely understand and follow the rule which prohibits the use of social media. It is a pilot year for the project, so it is necessary to generate positive commentaries about the project to keep it running as long as possible.

Ideally, what would you like to see the JUSTE Program become?

I want this project to get longer and longer. Also I would like the duration of stay in this project extended as long as possible. The nuances of language require a longer acquisition time. Therefore, an appropriately lengthened stay in the target language country will strengthen the language acquired. Hopefully, this project will revolutionize Japanese English education just as the JET Program has changed the landscape of English language education in Japan.

For a video of the Reverse JETs at the 2011 JETAANY Welcome Back Reception, click here.

Below are story ideas grouped by JET participants and alumni (JET World) and those more on Japanese culture (Japan World). If you’re a JET or JETWit contributor from anywhere in the world, we welcome your interest or additional story ideas! Click “Read More” below to see our story ideas, and contact JQ’s editor Justin Tedaldi (magazine [at] jetaany [dot] org) to sign up.

***JET WORLD***

  BOOK REVIEW: SHIRO: WIT, WISDOM AND RECIPES FROM A SUSHI PIONEER

A stunning new book from Seattle-based (and JET alum founded) Chin Music Press! Shiro Kashiba is the godfather of the Seattle sushi scene, and he was the first to bring the modern sushi bar to the Pacific Northwest in the 1960s. SHIRO, published in time for Shiro’s 45th year in Seattle, is a memoir/cookbook filled with the chef’s musings on the bounty of the Pacific Northwest and how we can preserve it for generations to come. It’s filled with beautiful personal photos, recipes, illustrations and tons of interesting facts about sushi and the Northwest food scene. Perfect for the foodies, Japanophiles or history buffs! For more info, click here.

‘THE RICE COOKER CHRONICLES’ SERIES

We are running a new series on JETwit about solo cooking experiences while on JET (check out “Nattode,” the first piece in the series). Did you discover a new favorite comfort food in Japan, learn to cook a mouthwatering meal that you still serve today or accidentally buy something really weird only to discover (and reluctantly) eat it in your mansion? We want to hear about it!

‘WINTER IN JAPAN’ ANECDOTES WANTED!

This quarterly anecdote topic is winters in Japan from JET alumni around the world! If you have a strange, delightful (or both—we all do) short story to share about your fuyus past in Japan, we’d love to publish it. Participate in Yuki-matsuri? Go for a particularly invigorating onsen dip to beat the cold? Funny story to share about getting a kotatsu or ceramic heater? Let us know!

JET GOT ME A JOB’ SERIES

We’ve heard from several JETs recently who have found jobs in their home countries working for Japanese companies, organizations or related fields in education. If the JET experience was a big help in netting that job, we encourage you to write about it.

JET ALUM LAUNCHES CROSS-CULTURAL CONSULTING SERVICES SITE

Jennifer Jakubowski (Hokkaido ’95-’97) has also spent several years in Japan outside of the JET Program. Although she have been doing Japanese-American cross-cultural business consulting and training for several years now, she has just officially launched a website advertising these services. Bridges to Japan is based in the NYC metropolitan area, but services clients all over the country. Talk to Jennifer or write about the site for an article.

JET AUTHOR ARI KAPLAN

JET alum author Ari Kaplan (Hyogo-ken, 1993-94), who practiced law for nine years at a big firm before setting out on his own and, among other things, writing The Opportunity Maker:  Strategies for Inspiring Your Legal Career Through Creative Networking and Business Development which became a big hit in the world of lawyers and especially among law students facing an increasingly uncertain job market and career prospects. It turns out Ari, who speaks regularly at legal career events, has a new book coming out soon on the theme of “reinvention” intended not just for lawyers but for all professionals re-thinking their careers in a society where the ground increasingly seems to shift below our feet. For more information about Ari, visit his website at www.arikaplanadvisors.com.  You can also see media coverage of him on WGN-TV Chicago, in the Wall Street Journal’s Law Blog and in the Houston Chronicle.

JET ALUMS DEVELOP JAPANESE FLASH APP

Mark Makdad, founder of software company Long Weekend Mobile, has developed with his partner Ross Sharrott the Japanese Flash vocabulary builder app for iPhone, as well as the Rikai Browser for iPad for reading Japanese. Interested in giving these products a spin and writing about them?

‘JET INSTANT NOODLE’ COMICS

Profile of JET alum artist Shun Endo and his “JET Instant Noodle Comics.” Read samples here.

JET ALUM/SAKE EXPERT JOHN GAUNTNER

John Gauntner is a JET alum and noted lecturer on sake who travels the world to speak all about this appealing beverage. He has published a score of books on the topic and spoke at New York’s Japan Society last year. Visit his website www.sake-world.com.

ISSHONI LONDON – JET ALUM BLOG

London JET alum Vanessa Villalobos writes about Japan-related events, news, review and interviews. This would be a good Q&A piece for any JETs wanting to learn more about how our alumni groups operate overseas. Learn more at:

www.isshonilondon.co.uk

www.facebook.com/pages/Isshoni-London/119415767689

www.twitter.com/IsshoniVanessa

TEAMTEACHERS.COM

An innovative telecommunications site for Team Teaching, founded by a JET. www.teamteachers.com

JETSET – CANADIAN JETS IN JAPAN

Melissa C. runs JETset, a site for Canadian JETs in Japan and a well-known resource center for JET participants. See more for a profile at http://www.jetsetjapan.com.

 ***JAPAN WORLD***

JAPAN FOUNDATION OF NEW YORK OFFERS JAPANESE COURSES!

JQ is looking to write up a profile with the course coordinator. The Japan Foundation, New York, in cooperation with The Nippon Club, will offer an original Japanese language and culture course, JF Japanese Language Course starting January 2012 as a part of The Nippon Club Culture Courses. These interactive and small classes are for beginner through intermediate learners to enjoy Japanese culture – manga/anime, pop music, origami (paper folding), calligraphy, chopsticks training, and more! This new course is based on the Japan Foundation’s JF STANDARD FOR JAPANESE LANGUAGE EDUCATION (JF Standard), which provides a framework of levels of Japanese language proficiency. Classes begin in January 2012. www.jfny.org/language/index.html

FUKUSHIMA “EIGAO SMILE” WRAPPING PAPER BENEFIT

Profile on EMI Japan Recording artist  Akemi Kakihara and her unique project! “えがお” is Japanese, means “SMILE”, pronounced as “EGAO” These lovely drawings were received as gifts by Fukushima Soma Minato Preschool 3-, 4- and 5-year-old students. Following the Great East Japan Earthquake, the fear from the nuclear radiation problem is far beyond imagination. These drawings captured those precious moments and their smiles, and continue to raise awareness and support children in Fukushima and Japan.

Akemi Kakihara’s AK Official Site: www.emimusic.jp/ak/    JP GIRLS NYC: www.facebook.com/JPGirlsNYC

DVD REVIEW: DOCUMENTARY OF J-POP GIRL GROUP AKB48

AKB48 was conceived in 2005. Beginning as a small all-girl singing group based in the Akihabara district of Tokyo – the city’s bustling electronics and anime/pop culture shopping Mecca – AKB48 has grown to 60 members and topped Japan’s Oricon music charts with the two best-selling pop singles in 2010 as well as another two singles ranking in the Top 10. With a complicated balance of competition and friendship among its members, the group’s bond is extremely strong. DOCUMENTARY of AKB48 to be continued traces AKB48’s history with scenes from concerts and rehearsals, member general elections, and fan activities both in Japan and abroad. The film also includes personal interviews with select members that reveal each of the girls’ personal struggles, joys, path to growth, and dreams. http://store.newpeopleworld.com

SACHIYO ITO DANCE COMPANY ARTICLE: 30^th ANNIVERSARY PROFILE

Sachiyo Ito and Company is the only dance group in New York City to perform Japanese classical dance, Okinawan dance, and contemporary works based on these traditions. They had their 30th Anniversary Concert near New York’s Lincoln Center in October, taking the audience from medieval Japan to present day through dance and live music. Takers are invited to write about Ito-sensei herself or review an upcoming concert. www.dancejapan.com.

KYUSHU BATTENKAI OF NEW YORK

Since last summer, JETAANY has joined forces with the Kyushu Battenkai (an association of Japanese from Kyushu living in New York), and more than 60 participants attended the group’s Fall Gathering last September. As New York is home to many other similar prefecture associations, this team up is a model for future JETAA Chapter-Prefectural Association events. The Battenkai’s president would be happy to get in touch with any JET writer interested in a Q&A or a feature article about the organization and its ties with JETAA.

MOVIE/BOOK/RESTAURANT REVIEWS

A good upcoming film is Studio Ghibli’s The Secret World of Arrietty (co-written by Hayao Miyazaki), coming to theaters Feb. 17. Also, we are accepting reviews on any Japanese restaurant that you’d like to spread the word about. (Even better if they’re run by JETs.) JET alum Jamie Graves works at Kajitsu, an East Village restaurant in New York specializing in shojin cuisine, an ancient Japanese culinary practice developed in Zen Buddhist monasteries.

WHERE DO YOU GET YOUR JAPAN FIX?

In an effort to revive the “Japan Fix” posts, we’d like to share a recent discoveries to help readers find a little piece of Japan close to home.  How do you get your Japan fix wherever you live?

ROBIN SAKAI OF GAIJIN POT

Gaijin Pot is a site that offers jobs, apartments and classifieds in Japan. Run by Robin Sakai, it strives to bring the Japanese and expat community together.

REVIEW OF JAPANESE LANGUAGE STUDY OPTIONS IN THE NY AREA

We would like to add a listing as well as a possible review of Japanese language study options in the New York area. One of these is Hills Learning, founded by Jon Hills, who works with JETs in New York to promote his learning center, which teaches four languages to children and adults. Jon also co-presents monthly Asian networking events. Jon is open to a profile. Learn more at www.hillslearning.com.

CONSULATE GENERAL SCHOOL CARAVAN

This is a decade-plus program run by New York’s Consulate General of Japan that sends consulate staff (American and Japanese) to New York high schools and junior high schools to introduce students to Japanese culture, and JET alums have even served as presenters! The purpose of this article will be to increase awareness of the program so more JETAA members can get involved.

KEIO ACADEMY OF NEW YORK

Based in Purchase, NY, Keio Academy is a school for bilingual and bicultural education established by its Tokyo namesake.  Besides the various activities the school offers, it also seeks to recruit JET alums for potential work opportunities.  We can put you in touch with their business officer, who is happy ro speak with more JETs about the subject.

ASIA SOCIETY OF NEW YORK

In Jan. 2010, NYC’s Asia Society held a concert called “Hogaku,” or Japanese folk instruments played with modern flair. We’ve never profiled Asia Society, so this would be a great time to find out more about how they select their Japanese attractions and exhibitions.

JAPAN INFORMATION CENTER OF NEW YORK

Profile. Take advantage of Japan Information Center to promote Japan! The Japan Information Center (JIC) is the cultural and public affairs section of the Consulate General of Japan in New York. The JIC distributes educational materials, posters and pamphlets on Japan, provides speakers on various aspects of Japan to the schools throughout this region, Provides information on the Japanese Government Scholarships & the JET Program, distributes the e-newsletter Japan Info, and loans videos/DVDs and cultural artifacts.

Rashaad at Fushimi Inari-taisha, Kyoto.

By Rashaad Jorden (Yamagata-ken, 2008-2010) for JQ magazine. Rashaad worked at four elementary schools and three junior high schools on JET, and taught a weekly conversion class in Haguro (his village) to adults. He completed the Tokyo Marathon in 2010, and was also a member of a taiko group in Haguro.

New Year’s Day. A day some welcome in a crazed stupor while others might celebrate it in serenity. Or maybe confusion.

I would be spending my New Year’s Day on vacation in the Kansai region. Upon getting off the bus in Osaka, I had no idea what locales I’d explore. But my plans were nothing to be stressed about as I’d simply follow the recommendations of my Lonely Planet.

And others. Shortly after checking into my hostel in Osaka, I met an American college student on a homestay in Tokyo. She had come to town for the same reason I had. So quite naturally, we started to talk about places worth visiting in the Kansai region. Fortunately for me, she was familiar with several tourist spots in the area.

I definitely knew about Kyoto’s infinite number of shrines, but I wasn’t sure which ones to visit. However, my compatriot recommended Kiyomizu-dera, Kinkaku-ji, and Fushimi Inari-taisha.

So I was off to Kyoto the next day. I crossed the first two locales off my list, but I didn’t have time to fit in Fushimi Inari-taisha. No worries—I had two more days in the region. My biggest concern was finding something to do other than going to bed at 10 p.m. on New Year’s Eve. Fortunately, four other Yamagata Prefecture ALTs who were taking a road trip to Hiroshima stopped in Osaka that night, so I had some friendly faces to ring in the new year with.

After a night of clubbing, I went to bed at roughly five a.m. On a normal morning, my eyes wouldn’t have seen the light of day until noon. But guests at the hostel had to evacuate by ten a.m. to allow for daily cleanup. And besides, I had—at most—40 hours left in my Kansai trip upon returning to the hostel. So I got up at eight a.m. to take the train to Kyoto.

Roughly an hour later, upon getting off at Inari Station, I felt like I was in a Tokyo train during rush hour. Everyone seemed to share the same brilliant idea of making a hatsumoude at Fushimi Inari-taisha. Not surprising, considering the shrine, which was dedicated to the gods of rice and sake by the Hata family in the 8th century, is considered one of Japan’s most popular.

Just as I was getting off the train, I noticed a woman holding a Lonely Planet Kyoto guide. We quickly struck up a conversation, and I learn she’s Jenny from Seattle. While I would’ve been perfectly fine exploring the shrine solo, I was happy to share observations with a fellow English-speaking traveler.

Fushimi Inari-taisha is different from most shrines I’ve visited. The area—consisting of five shrines across the woods of Inari-yama—doesn’t have a simple landmark to be admired. It actually presents a hiking opportunity as its pathway rises four kilometers up the mountain. Once Jenny and I went under a big torii near the entrance and weaved our way through the crowds, we started the hike.

This was pleasant due to it being relaxing and full of torii, quintessential Japanese structures I love. I had no idea as I’d see so many of them at Fushimi Inari-taisha. The torii weren’t the only Japanese symbol we got acquainted with there. The shrine is also populated with stone foxes, as foxes are the messenger of Inari (the god of the rice harvest).

When Jenny and I reached the summit, I was amazed. Not because of the actual hike, but because the sight of a New Year’s Day crowd, torii and stone foxes make Fushimi Inari-taisha a sight to behold. While on the summit, Jenny told me she was going to spend the next 15 minutes writing thoughts and observations in her journal. She had taken copious notes throughout the hike, which was facilitated by her ability to read kanji. I certainly could’ve waited for her to complete her journal entries, but I was impatient to leave the area and explore other parts of town. So I said goodbye to Jenny and started my descent.

The easiest way to return to the station would have been to go back down the same path. I figured I could reach the station in an about an hour. But as I began my descent I saw what looked like a shortcut through the woods, so I didn’t hesitate to take it.

However, when I saw a parking lot a few minutes later, I realized something wasn’t right. There are no parking lots adjacent to the shrine or train station. Without a map and uncertain, while making my way back to the summit I spotted a group of people all sitting down. I really wanted to ask them for help, but I couldn’t even say “I’m lost” in Japanese. So I continued to zigzag in search of any sign of the train station or summit of Inari-yama. At that point, being stranded at night wasn’t a concern of mine as it was before noon. But as I bounced from one portion of grass to another, nary another soul was in sight. Amazing considering how crowded Fushimi-inari Taisha gets on New Year’s Day. Then again, others don’t foolishly walk off into the woods.

I continued to freak out when all I saw were trees and no sign of human life. The only thing I could do was walk in somewhat of a straight line for a while and hope for the best.

Which turned out to be a group of older folks going on a stroll. They appeared to be veering toward the summit of Inari-yama or the highest point I reached when I was climbing with Jenny. I didn’t want to freak them out, so I quietly followed them. I definitely could’ve risked getting myself even more lost, but within several minutes, I found life—the summit of Inari-yama.

And an interesting way to celebrate the New Year.

For more on Fushimi Inari-taisha, click here.

Rachel at work "gutting," or removing drywall panels and screws, in the stairwell of Wakadaisho, a sushi restaurant undergoing renovation in Ofunato, Iwate.

By Rachel Vigil-Garcia (Fukushima-ken, 2001-02) for JQ magazine. Rachel works at the American Center for Learning in Chula Vista, CA. Contact her at ray3vigil13 [at] yahoo [dot] com.

Eight months have passed since a huge earthquake and tsunami crippled Northeastern Japan with mind-numbing destruction. In March, news video beamed entire towns going under, with cars and homes lifted in the deluge. But today, why does it seem like so many have begun to forget about this disaster? I know the JET and JET alumni community are an exception to this. Still, I hope that by sharing my recent experience I can encourage sustained support to that wonderful island nation and its ever-gracious inhabitants. It’s much too early to be letting Japan’s victims and survivors, and the hard work ahead, fade into the background.

When news of the events of March 11 reached my living room in San Diego, it took hours for the magnitude and scope of the tragedy to sink in. I sat, scrolling through unbelievable Internet images with an eerie sense of irony as my mind brought me back 10 years. Suddenly, it wasn’t March 11, but September 11. I wasn’t in San Diego. I was on a tatami mat in my apartment in Koriyama, as a JET in Fukushima. The 9/11 terrorist attacks gripped the world in complete surprise. I was glued to NHK and local Fukushima TV, wondering how something so awful could be going on back home while I was thousands of miles away.

The realization of this strange twist of events compelled me to take action this summer. I was an ALT in Japan during the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Ten years later I felt the same helplessness and fright for Japan, a nation not mine by birthright, but one that had become a second home. With growing conviction and a sense of obligation, I vowed to find an organization accepting U.S. civilian volunteers. I was determined to help Japan recover and rebuild.

I discovered All Hands Volunteers, an international relief organization, during an online search in mid-April. Six weeks later, I was on a plane to volunteer in Project Tohoku, Ofunato, Iwate-ken. I felt grateful for getting seven weeks off from work. I’d also managed to fund my entire trip—$2000 and counting—with contributions from friends, family and co-workers, including old friends from Japan. They made it possible for me to fly to Japan and give back.

I did a variety of tasks on All Hands Project Tohoku, often intense and physical. We worked six days a week, resting only on Tuesdays. Different job teams were available, and the organization expertly dispersed us among different sites, despite daily fluctuation in the number of volunteers (people came and went frequently, as All Hands accommodates volunteers for both brief and long-term stays).

Because of our language skills, volunteers speaking Japanese and English received priority choosing their work team. Every team needed a translator, who usually worked a site multiple days to provide consistency. I appreciated this, as it afforded me a chance to get to know local Japanese residents whose homes, businesses, or properties we entered.

On one job, I translated on a team tasked with cleaning up a warehouse storage site that had withstood the tsunami. Its owner, Mr. Suzuki, lived in a house on the lot next door. Sadly, his house was not stable enough to safely remain standing. The lot was now bare; Mr. Suzuki and his wife were living in temporary government housing, which held a two-year time limit. Mrs. Suzuki broke her leg in the chaos to get upstairs and escape the tsunami’s path. Her leg had healed nicely, thankfully, and Mr. Suzuki now focused on turning his former warehouse into his company office.

The first step was mudding, or crawling under the floor boards filling mud bags with dirt and debris deposited by the tsunami when it roared through. Amidst such physically demanding work, the atmosphere heavy with the gravity of such a recent tragedy, lighter moments often cut through. Mr. Suzuki was incredulous that his son’s surfboard and a few skateboards survived, unbroken, but caked with mud and tossed under the building. We became accustomed to finding the remains of small fish, shining iridescent against the dark earth. And I was amazed how many tea cups and fragile kitchen objects weathered the destruction intact!

On another job, my team spent three days in the sprawling yard of an older couple, the Oikawas. They lived along the main road heading to Rikuzentakata, a town hit especially hard. Only a handful of homes survived in the foothills, protected by elevation. The rest had been swept away, leaving a gray landscape of leveled buildings and rubble. People like the Oikawas and their neighbors, homes still salvageable, were steadfastly determined to stay put and rebuild. They’ve been there for decades, and many know the local carpenter who built their place. Yet two elderly people could not possibly be expected to sort through the wreckage alone. It could take months.

The Oikawas’ backyard was an overwhelming site at first. Imagine the entire contents of two or three Japanese homes just toppled and shaken out. There were kitchen cabinets to be emptied, overturned, then taken apart. There were water-logged tatami mats, rotting amidst zabutons, rice cookers, and small pairs of shoes. It was difficult to uncover item after item, imagining the personal tale that went with it. And then there was what to do with it all! Everything had to be sorted by material: metal, glass, plastics, paper and combustibles, wood, etc.

One ojisan’s comments brought tears to my eyes. He explained that when the children and relatives of Rikuzentakata residents gather at family cemetery plots every summer at Obon, he couldn’t bear for them to see an empty town, defeated by the destruction. Even if only a couple of homes could be saved, it was worth it for the honor and legacy of the town. Equally endearing were the words of another satisfied All Hands client. This grateful ojisan was impressed with our mudding job, which removed the rancorous odor from his house. Despite being well over 60, he announced with renewed gumption to study English so that when All Hands went to respond to the next international disaster, he could step up and volunteer himself.

These stories remind me of the giving spirit and deep hearts all across Japan, who deserve continued support and encouragement in what will likely be a recovery process that takes years. I would love to answer any questions about my trip, or how you can volunteer on any All Hands Volunteers relief project. And soon, I hope to visit Ofunato again, to witness the advancements and success in its recovery. It fills me with great pride to say that I helped Japan rebuild. And we are not done.

A really terrific December edition of AJET Connect online magazine is now available for viewing at:

https://s3.amazonaws.com/AJET/AJET+Connect+DEC+2011.pdf

"This whimsical compilation of cartoons that appeared previously in JETAA publications worldwide is likely to hit the funny bone of both former and current program participants alike."

By Sharona Moskowitz (Fukuoka-ken, 2000-01) for JQ magazine. Sharona works at a literary agency in New York City. She is interested in fresh, new voices in fiction and creative nonfiction.

Flexibility and a sense of humor have long been predictors of a successful JET participant. And with good reason. After all, let’s face it: life in Japan for a gaijin can range from the frustrating to the absurd to the downright hilarious, often within the same day.

The malleable young JET is expected to smile and wear a variety of hats placed upon his or her head in the name of “international exchange.” For most JETs, it’s what happens in between the lines of the job description that makes the experience so meaningful.

Who better to capture the flexible thinking and sheer comedy of the JET experience than a former participant himself? JET alum and professional illustrator David Namisato (Aomori-ken CIR, 2002-04) showcases some of the more memorable aspects in his new book Life After the B.O.E. This whimsical compilation of cartoons that appeared previously in JETAA publications worldwide is likely to hit the funny bone of both former and current program participants alike.

Each cartoon presents a different familiar scenario. There is the moment of sudden awareness when it becomes all too clear to the ALT that he or she is more of an exotic show-and-tell object than a real teacher, a realization that can be disappointing, underwhelming, or just a huge relief, depending on who you ask.There is also an amusing rendering of an imagined meeting of serious Japanese bureaucrats deciding on the interpretation of Western holidays, wherein one decides that Halloween shall be officially sanctioned “a day to celebrate cute furry animals.”

With his bold colors and witty captions, Naimsato covers many of the universal experiences that stand out for most of us and he manages to remind us of some that we may have forgotten about—or conveniently repressed—for that matter.

Life After the B.O.E. the Book is available now at Amazon.com and CreateSpace. Read an exclusive JQ interview with David about the book here, and visit his homepage at http://namisato.org.

• “A New Framework for US-Japan Development Cooperation“ (PDF)  http://www.jcie.org/researchpdfs/USJapanPapers/Gannon.pdf

Click here for other JCIE papers in the series.

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Feature article:
Spotlight on… Captain Minami

Other articles this month:
POSTCARDS FROM JAPAN – A Message from Tohoku Artists
Films at the Embassy of Japan: Always – Sunset on Third Street 2
UK-Japan Music Society 20th Anniversary Christmas Concert
Tohoku students play at Wembley!
Japanese Food: Interview with award-winning chef Asuka Kobayashi
Japanese representatives visit London ahead of the 2012 London Olympics
New Centre for Japanese Studies at the University of East Anglia
Tokyo: “What is the city but the people” by Simon Wright
Supporting Tohoku through volunteering and tourism

Article from the Japan Times that mentions the JET Programme:

• Round table on attracting foreign students: Experts look at ways to entice overseas talent to study in Japan

Japan faces the serious issue of a dwindling number of children and a shrinking workforce. So far in this situation, not much has been done to make use of foreign students studying in Japan, who may become essential resources to relieve the labor shortage. Leading figures from academia and the business world were recently invited to discuss ways in which to attract more foreign students to study and work in Japan.

The speakers were Kenji Honma, president of the Hokkaido University of Education, Yohei Otani, a general manager at NEC Soft, Nam-Kung Sung Il, an executive director at the Tokyo YMCA, Larry Greenberg, CEO of Urban Connections, and Keiko Iwata, president of Heart Connections.

New submissions always welcome. Just e-mail it to Leah at jetwit [at] jetwit.com.

******

Kaijō!

by Justin Maki (ALT Osaka-fu, 2002-06), a writer and editor currently working at the Sports desk of Kyodo News America in New York City. He also writes about health and exercise science for J-Range Training (www.jrangetraining.com), a Denver-based fitness company whose method of low-impact weight training is under review for a US Patent. Justin’s short fiction, poetry, and essays have appeared in a handful of small journals. Contact him at makij408@gmail.com. 

“When you go to the kitchen to prepare dinner, be born in the kitchen. When you finish there, die. Then be born at the dining table as you eat your dinner and, when you finish eating, die there. Be born in the garden, and sweep with your broom. When you get into bed at night, die there. And when daylight comes, and you awaken in your bed, be born anew.”

These are the words of Soko Morinaga Roshi, the famous abbot of Daishuin Temple in Kyoto. Ten years after Morinaga-Roshi passed away, in the rainy season of my third year in Japan, I had the opportunity to move into Daishuin with his successor. Nobody was there except me and the monk, a wiry forty-year-old with thick glasses and a firm, toothy grin. I cooked with him, cleaned with him, meditated with him; at every meal I asked him questions and learned what I could, although he often left me puzzled. I was a total newcomer to Zen, more of a guest than a student, and far from fluent in Japanese.

And so my life began, every morning, in darkness. I heard soft footsteps in the hallway, followed by the dreaded “kaijō!” More dead than alive, I scrambled for my belt and ran to splash water on my face and fetch the bucket and rag. I was born in the hondō while lighting incense, and after we chanted sutras, I died. I wiped the temple’s long wooden corridors as the sun came up. Finally, with a sense of relief, I would go to the kitchen to make breakfast for myself and the monk, and be born anew.

At the time, I was commuting to work at a public high school in Osaka, and living in the temple thanks to a substitute English teacher who had been friends with the late Morinaga-Roshi. In order to leave for work on time, I couldn’t afford to spend more than twenty minutes on breakfast — but compared to the strenuous pace of our chores, these twenty minutes were a long and leisurely extravagance. I would set the table with two bowls of rice gruel and two sets of chopsticks, and on a saucer-sized plate for each of us, I would arrange a few grams of seaweed, a pinch of salty miso paste, and a plum so intensely sour that even the monk used to grimace while eating it.

I remember this particular combination of tastes more vividly than almost anything else from four years in Japan. These breakfasts gave me a powerful sensory cue, a link to what Zen practice made me feel: the much-needed shock to my system, the open passageway for intuition rather than the word-bound, cluttered “thoughts” that I had grown so dependent upon. Two months after leaving Kyoto, when the clutter began to overtake me again, I decided to re-create the temple diet as much as possible.

In the interim, I had gone back to Colorado for summer vacation and returned to southern Osaka prefecture to a new job and a new home. The apartment, selected by the rural board of education that now employed me, seemed fortuitously suited to my project. It had a hardwood-floor kitchen — perfect for the peaceful grounding ritual of wiping it down with a rag before dawn — and two completely empty tatami rooms, either of which would be great as a mini-zendō. I bought a huge jar of sour umeboshi, packets of miso paste, and seaweed as part of a simple diet.

But perhaps from the very first day, the project was more sentimental than a sign of any true humility or dedication. My new job involved teaching English in kindergarten and elementary schools, a wonderful experience, but one that required a lot more running, singing, and game-playing than working in a high school, and a full day’s exertion on a third-grader’s lunch of tonjiru soup and white rice. I often came home exhausted and starving. In the last hour that my local supermarket was open, I bought discounted sushi packs and box lunches. I would make quick sandwiches from ham or cheap tempura; I bought ready-made, single-serving containers of potato salad or tofu dishes; and for dessert I had red-bean-filled tea sweets without tea. As long as it didn’t require cooking, I was satisfied. The healthy foods I bought optimistically on the weekend, the udon noodles and broccoli and carrots, rotted in opened packages during the week and eventually had to be thrown away.

In the temple, we were not allowed to waste a single grain of rice. But this, obviously, was not temple life: not only did I never get up in time to wipe the hardwood floor, but I hardly got up in time to eat breakfast at all. Most nights I would set my rice cooker to begin cooking at 5:20 a.m., so that it would be done by 5:55 when I was supposed to get up. But with nobody yelling “kaijo!” in the morning, it could be 6:19, or 6:44, or even 7:02 by the time I got up and ate a quick bowl of rice and/or a slice of white bread before rushing out the door, biking furiously through the shotengai shops, parking illegally at a cram school behind the train station and sprinting through the ticket gate and up the stairs. Leftover rice was often the basis for dinner. Many times I would boil a bag of cheap instant curry to dump over the cold rice, and toss in a large package of tofu. My habit of eating sweets made sour plums unbearable. They too had to be thrown away.

One problem, I thought, was that I simply didn’t have the skills to cook healthy foods that were also satisfying. I enrolled in a bilingual weekly class called “Let’s Enjoy Japanese Home Cooking.” At every session I got hands-on practice making dishes like pork dumplings, grilled salmon with vegetables, various stir-fry meals and dashi-based soups. It was a fun and helpful class, but I still had trouble finding time to cook. My kitchen was not nearly as well-equipped as the class kitchen, and what implements I had were more often than not piled dirty in the sink.

As the winter progressed, my so-called meditation room fell into disuse as well. I had a profound appreciation for the benefits of Zen practice, but I wanted my own sort of practice, not necessarily locked into the culture of Buddhism. Therefore, my mini-zendō was actually a zendō-inspired reading room: by honing my concentration, I would learn to immerse myself completely in works of literature, to focus beyond the words until I could see the characters and situations take shape before my eyes. While sitting on the tatami floor, however, I had the same problem as I’d had while meditating in the zendō. My concentration wandered. My posture slumped. But instead of straightening up and persevering like I would have in the presence of a monk, in my private apartment I would slump further, lie on my back, or prop myself up on an elbow — none of which allowed me to concentrate for very long, and none of which were comfortable while shivering on a December evening. The hardwood floor I’d promised myself to wipe daily, as if wiping the stale, tangled thoughts from my mind, remained covered in teaching materials, dust, books, and dirty laundry.

Looking back, it is not hard to understand why this happened. One of my first questions for the monk had been to describe his idea of happiness. “When I have continued something tedious and difficult for a long time without giving up,” he’d answered. “That’s happiness.” Picking up a saucer-sized plate, he’d said that the top of the plate was tedium, the underside happiness. There was no dividing the two. But perhaps the attempt, this futile struggle to have it my own way, was a necessary stage of learning. Even Morinaga-Roshi describes the resistance in his young heart, the impatience with which he heard but failed to understand the words of his teacher. When Zuigan Roshi took him in at Daishuin, the very first lesson was this: “From the first, in people and in things, there is no such thing as trash.” Morinaga admits that it took considerable time and effort before he could put the meaning of this statement into practice. Similarly, I was not finding it easy to adopt the monk’s wisdom into my accustomed routine. The temple meals, apparently so simple and powerful, depended upon a much larger context that I couldn’t duplicate on my own.

And when I think of the best meals I had in the year after leaving the temple, I remember all the people who invited me into their homes and tried their best to speak English while generously providing homemade cooking and good saké. I remember my girlfriend making Sunday morning pancakes, and one day — a cool, fragrant day of sakura trees blooming in the rain — we’d made a big leafy salad with kiwi fruit and avocado, with cashews and raisins and orange chunks, with celery, spinach, cherry tomatoes — with the abundance and joy of springtime itself.

But most nights after work I was alone, and nothing went into my dinners but a hasty cash transaction. A thousand yen in the closing grocery store, choices made while trembling with hunger, happy at the weight of the basket against my arm. Cinnamon-raisin bread, some apples, seaweed with sprouts and tofu, a box lunch, a somen noodle tray. This is the way it happens: I rush out of the store and wait impatiently for the elevator to my fifth-floor apartment. There is no need to open my small fridge, because nothing of what I’ve bought will be left over. I go straight to eating the box lunch. It is a multi-compartment tray with take-no-ko rice, grilled salmon, a fried meatball, mashed potatoes, lettuce, seaweed, and a few other things. I do not look at the food very carefully before grabbing it with disposable wooden chopsticks and rushing it to my mouth. When I am finished with the tray, all I know is that I want more. I eat two apples quickly and dig into a packet of fried tofu. To make it more like dessert, I squeeze a layer of honey over the top of the firm, black-spotted surface. It cuts yet holds together as neatly as moist cake, and is just as delicious. Finally I take a long drink from a lukewarm bottle of tea that has been sitting in the apartment for several days.

I take a deep breath, the first one in quite a while. I am full, but far from born anew. A heap of empty plastic trays, dishes with neither tedium on one side nor happiness on the other, clutter the sink. “From the first, in people and in things, there is no such thing as trash” — and yet here I was in the rainy season of my fourth year in Japan, a year after my stay in Daishuin, reminding myself to get more trash bags.