Dartboard

I'm leaving for Okinawa today and I'm not sure I can post while away, so for the next 10 days if you don't hear from me--imagine me in sunny Okinawa, scuba diving and chilling at the beach!
Love, Sierra

I’m a damn good eikaiwa teacher. Not really, but I had a lot of fun tonight with Melissa and Vicky who joined our Aokata Eikaiwa. I taught them all about E. Coli 0157 and the Jack-in-the-Box and Odwalla outbreaks of 1993 and 1996. It was great to have two more natives there because I often feel like Mizorogi-san, the leader of the group, can “steal the show” (me being the show) and no one else can get a word in edgewise. At first it really bothered me that she’d just talk and talk and talk and the others who are quite a bit lower than her sit confused and bored and overwhelmed, but then I decided to embrace it because there’s no way I could reach out to everyone in the class—their ability gap is simply too wide for a one-person job—and did my best to make eye contact and ask direct question with everyone in the group and take advantage of her great knowledge of English. It’s impossible to dislike this woman anyway!

With Vicky and Melissa there—as I was wishing and hoping and praying—they were able to sit next to the other members and explain what was being said, and better yet, veer off into other conversations that are more appropriate for their English. It was great, but would not have been possible with out my Aokata girls! Can I get a whoop, whoop for Melissa and Vicky! Sankyu bery much!

And prison is spelled P-R-I-S-O-N so don’t go putting an extra i in there!

I also heard some very sad news tonight. Koichiro-san (my gas man) told me that last night a 69-year-old woman was hit and killed by a speeding car on the highway toward Narao.

Just read that sentence again.

Here, I’ll help you. Last night a 69-year-old woman was hit and killed by a speeding car on the highway toward Narao.

The driver, a 53-year-old man, was head of the Water Department in Aokata—a very well-respected, public official—was either falling asleep or not paying attention on his drove home to Wakamatsu as he hit the woman in the crosswalk. Koichiro-san said he was arrested and will probably be fired if he doesn’t “voluntarily retire” before that, but now my eikaiwa said he will not loose his job, he’ll just get a serious pay cut and loose his high position in the town office. There was no alcohol involved, if there was he would most certainly loose his job.

Of course, his job is probably that last thing on his mind right now.

I can’t imagine hitting a person with my car. I can’t imagine what it’s like to… kill someone. To kill another human being. Let that word pass over your lips. Kill. K.I.L.L. The guy must be absolutely frozen with guilt, remorse, and shame—and terror—wishing he could do ANYTHING to take back the last 24 hours of his life. To drive slower, to keep his eyes glued on the road, to have swerved just in time no matter what the consequences. To give his own life to bring back hers.

I don’t know if that’s what he’s feeling now, but I can only imagine if I were ever in that position I would be terrified. Scared of what my own hands were capable of. To have the death of another human being, an innocent mother, grandmother, and daughter resting on my conscience for the rest of my life. Cause that’s how long it would last. The rest of your life. To be responsible for death. She was killed. It wasn’t malicious or intentional or premeditated, but perhaps that’s even worse because you can only think of what you could have, you SHOULD have done to prevent it. To prevent… killing someone.

Needless to say, I drove incredible slowly on my way home tonight. At every crosswalk, intersection and curve I slowed to a near stop—imagining someone just behind that large truck, just around the tight curve, or crossing the highway in the darkened tunnel. As I drove over the spot where she was killed I thought again about that word.

Killed.

I tried to imagine what happened in that man’s car. Death is forever. Forever gone. My family, having lost my father just a few years ago, understands the meaning of “gone” as well as anyone—and to be responsible for that? Impossible. I’m not sure I would want to live after that. Every breath would be guilt-ridden. And he was just driving home like any other day.

I hope, however, that this man can survive this horrific experience and somehow forgive himself for what happened. I worry about the public pressure that will be put on him because he is a public official. Honestly I worry—more because I am in Japan where this is more common than any other country I’m aware of—that this accident may lead to his death at his own hand. It was obviously an accident. A very big mistake, but driving too fast and driving while tired is a mistake that too many of us make too often without thoroughly examining the consequences. I think about all the times I have swung around a corner, not aware of what was on the other side and how—simply—lucky I was.

How long will I be this lucky?

When will your luck wear out?

May this be a reminder to us all, to drive slowly and safely and to not forget how precious and fragile life is.

Now go tell your mother that you love her.

I love you, Sierra

I overslept today. I came into the office after the morning meeting and apologized to kyoto-sensei. He asked why. I said because I was late this morning. He says, “Is that so?” And Hatakeyama-sensei leans over to explain I was late and missed the meeting, but honestly he didn’t even notice I was gone. That makes it hard for me understand why it’s so important that I be there.

It’s no doubt Kyoto-sensei doesn’t know what’s going on. I’ve never seen someone sleep so much on the job. It’s not full-on snoring, drooling sleep, but occasionally it’s fast-asleep and unaware of what's going on around him. I wonder, as he sits at his desk, rocking back in his easy chair, head nodding and eyelids drooping, if he actually HAS a job. Sometimes I see him chicken-scratching away at his computer, but I never get a sense of urgency from this man. But really—not noticing that I wasn’t in attendance at the meeting when I’m just three desks away? It doesn’t make me feel very loved.

Speaking of love. And BEING loved, not NOT being loved. I love Nonaka-sensei. She’s a P.E. teacher at my school and although she doesn’t speak great English, she always makes me feel welcomed and important. I’ve always felt she was special but I really noticed it this morning when I was working on a computer next to her and I was having printing problems. I didn’t say anything, but 5 seconds later she leaned over with a “どうしたの？” and offered to help me.

Usually when I have a problem I must look at everyone in the office, try to gauge their current busyness and then weigh how comfortable they are talking with me, then courageously inquire—“if you’re not too busy!!”—for help with the computer or copier. Nonaka-sensei immediately knows if sometimes wrong by the error beep on the computer or the look on my face; she always asks if I feel better when I return from being sick or the hospital and wants to take my temperature (but isn’t pushy and standing over me while I’m doing it—she’s much too busy and gives me more space than that.)

She asks, “How was your summer? What did you do? Do you miss your family? Aren’t you homesick? Are you feeling better? Did you catch a cold?” And although there are others out there who ask me questions and show their concern for me, I especially appreciate it from her because she’s obviously too busy to be concerned, but is anyway. Not a tea lady who just wipes counters and empties trash and has that kind of time to spare, but a full-fledged, 18-classes-a-week teacher, a club activity coach, and department head.

I love the way she supports me: She actually comes to ME to ask if her track and field students have done MY English homework otherwise she’s suspending them from practice and the so-and-so competition next weekend!!! Unbelievable! That shows so much respect for me and I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate it! I don’t really feel like a “sensei” as I don’t have nearly the responsibility or class load as a “real teacher” but I do feel like my job is important—otherwise, what the H-E-double-hockey-stick am I doing here?—and I like it when other teachers think what I do is important. It makes me feel validated and like I could pull a little more weight if I have faith in my role.

(I swear this is the last paragraph!) She’s not just kind to me either, she’s sincerely concerned and thoughtful and caring to everyone. It’s amazing she’s got that kind of energy! She’s been at Nakako for six years (which is the minimum required at island schools) so I was worried she might be leaving in April, but she loves this school and wants to volunteer herself for another year (which is smiled upon at these wretched island schools). I, too, am very happy she’ll be here until I leave next August—‘cause what would I do with her? I mean, I bet SHE noticed that I wasn’t at the meeting this morning…

Loved (by at least one person in this staffroom),
Sierra